#but i’d rather keep it short than let it drag on too long and be tedious

[exilepurify]

There aren’t enough sparkly Teru edits in the world and I’m here, one man on a mission, to change that.

Teru ain’t got time!

Song: I Ain’t Got Time! by Tyler the Creator

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Ten

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Later than usual, sorry! But I've been busy with a whole load of shit ngl, it's just been stress:) Let me know if anyone else wants to be added to the taglist though, I realise my updating is a bit sporadic? Maybe? Just a little? Lmao, anyway here's 10, hope you enjoy!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

Jacket potatoes were a fucking delicacy.

Any Brit back home would tell you that. You could top ‘em with all sorts; Chilli, Tuna, Cheese, Chicken, Stuffing, Coleslaw, Bacon, Gravy, Bolognese— some people even liked them plain. But my favourite, as well as the only real and true way to serve a jacket potato, was with an ungodly amount of butter and baked beans.

Being in the States, it was a rather hard dish to come by. But, seeing as Marshall always appeared to go above and beyond, beans (No, none of that shoddy American shit) could be found in the little basket he’d gone and gifted me the day before. A little wicker bowl full of goodies to soothe that little ache of homesickness. 

I smacked the can down onto the countertop and levelled Rosie with a long stare.

“You’re serious?” She asked me around a wary glance, extending her arm out cautiously to get a better look at the bright blue tin as though she thought the contents might just reach out to try and grab her back.

“Deadly.” I remarked, attempting to keep my smile hidden when I met her question with a raised brow, “You’ll love it.”

Rosie didn’t look too convinced about that fact and yet, she rolled up her sleeves and took a seat at the counter to watch me work, helping out with the few things that she could. 

She had waltzed in through the front door a while earlier, just a second after I’d made it up the stairs, and the grin she’d worn when she had spotted me had had my heart warming and the pair of us wandering into the kitchen, arm in arm and already talking at a mile an hour. 

I was sauteing some mushrooms in a pan after having peeled and diced them up, whilst she kept a keen eye on the warming potatoes. “So Dad’s finally found some inspiration then?” Rosie asked me after a while, peering into the oven.

I smiled when I peered over at her, seeing how the orange glow of it washed over the side of her face to softly illuminate her features. “Seems so, we got a lot done but he was on a roll by the end of it.” I told her in reply, shaking the pan again and blinking at the sizzle that sparked up, “What do you mean anyway? Finally.” I dragged out that last word in a small singsong which made her chuckle as she stood to her full height once more and turned.

“He’s been trying to write for a couple weeks now, I think. Or months.” She shrugged, stepping back to watch the mushrooms fry with a slight wrinkle of her nose, “Not sure, but he keeps complaining about it whenever he’s on the phone.”

With a small hum, my eyes flickered back over to her, then to the pan again, “He didn’t mention it.”

Rosie blew out a faint chuckle and leant back against the counter, knuckles wrapping around its edge, “Why would he? He hates jinxing himself.”

It was cute that she noticed things like that about him, something I’d begun to note in the short time I’d been staying with the two, but I didn’t know... A large part of me wished that Marshall would have said something about it before, or at least alluded to it. It made me feel a bit bad for bowing out so early now. 

Still, my mind was quickly recaptured by the task at hand and then the story that Z deemed to tell me about, apparently a teacher thought that one of her friends was a shoo in for these auditions that they had coming up soon. The familiarity of the scene made me think back to Lottie, to everything that was happening back home, and I wished, silently and not for the first time, that it could be possible for a person to exist in two places at once. 

The spuds took their time baking but soon enough they were ready and piping hot, fluffy on the inside and with a crisp exterior. Rosie gathered up the butter and cheese at my signal, face lighting up at the prospect of being able to drown her own in the latter, whilst I pinched the tops of the spuds with a clean tea towel and plated them up, spattering them with a small amount of herbs.

I was going to keep Marshall’s wrapped up in tinfoil, if only to save it from going all horrible before he had the chance to try such a delicacy, but thankfully he’d worked his way back up the stairs just in time. I wondered how he’d managed it.

“Hey, you’ve got table duty.” Rosie exclaimed as soon as she saw him bustling over the threshold, handing the cutlery she was already holding to him without a second thought, which caused Em to blink down at his hands whilst he struggled not to drop the sudden weight he'd just been shafted with.

“‘Scuse me?” Marshall prompted, brow furrowed as his gaze wandered about the rest of the kitchen. I wondered what he thought of the bubbling pot of red sauce sitting on the hob, as well as the absurd amount of butter both Rosie and I had already lumped onto our steaming plates.

“You can set the table, Dad.” Z explained as she jumped back to help me with the mushrooms, her voice edging the line of a whining lilt, “We cooked! So it’s only fair.”

Marshall stared at her for a second longer before he ultimately snorted, “Right.” He murmured, recapturing his hold on the silver he held and eyes finding mine, before he spun round on his heel and left the room once again with a small smirk. When he returned, his plate was almost ready and just about to be loaded up with– “The hell’s that?”

I withheld my snarky reply in favour of smirking when Rosie answered for me, her eyes widening in the face of her father’s obvious leery expression. “Beans, Dad. El told me it’s one of her favourite meals, she wanted to share it with us.”

It wasn’t hard to hear the undertone there, the kind that told him to keep quiet on how he felt about the bubbling bowl I was currently holding because Z obviously didn’t want me feeling disheartened in any way. It was adorable, as was the stern face she’d paired with it, the same face that her dad found hard to waver against. His shoulders slumped ever so.

“Right.” He repeated for the second time tonight, dragging the first syllable out a tad, “Looks good?” He tried. 

I had to laugh then, “That a question or statement, Mathers?”

His eyes flickered over to meet mine, but I motioned for Rosie to get a start on heaping the cheese we’d grated onto her plate, the girl’s responding grin was giant. 

“I–” Em appeared stumped for a split second before he eventually just pressed his lips together and decided to jump in on helping us. Although he did complain when he spotted the frying pan sat off to the side, “Mushrooms too?” But with Rosie’s short warning of Dad, Marshall only appeared to raise his hands in mock surrender and then moved over to grab the plates so that he could carry them off into the next room.

I shared a conspiratorial smile with the younger girl before we followed after him, the three of us settling into the same seats as we had occupied the day before. Marshall still looked wary, even with his beans being hidden beneath a thick layer of cheese that I figured he had reasoned to himself would mask whatever taste was under it, but Z, to my utter surprise, looked ready to dig in.

“Changed your tune there, lovely.” I mentioned with a sly smirk, my gaze lingering on her long enough to catch the sheepish reaction she bore before she just shrugged and dipped her head around a grin, fork already in hand.

“Smells good.” Was the excuse she used and so I softened my face into a smile too.

“Well you helped so of course it does,” I quipped easily, picking up my fork as well before nudging Em’s forearm, “Come on, you big baby. Just try it. If you hate it, I’ll order you whatever you want. On me.”

That had him rolling his eyes, but he picked up his knife and fork with a determined expression.

I bit back a round of chuckles I could feel bubbling in my throat and used my chin to getsure for the pair of them to get stuck in. Rosie was quick to tear into hers and I was silently thankful for the way the potato easily broke apart under her knife, its texture fluffy and golden.

“Oh wow, this is so good.” She blew out the second that she could, already moving onto her next bite whilst Marshall was still working his way up to trying his own. “When you first showed me those beans? I was so sure I was gonna puke.”

I snorted quietly at that image, perfectly content with the plate of home I’d gone and conjured up for us, whilst Em’s face wrinkled. “Well if you had hated it, you’d have only had your Dad to blame, he’s the one who bought them.”

“I jus’ looked up British shit, they were top five on every list.” Marshall defended before he finally took a bite, slow in the way he raised his fork to his mouth, his eyebrows raising a little as he let the taste settle in, “Shit.”

My eyes narrowed a tad around the smile that I was chewing on to keep hidden but I watched him cut further into the potato, beans and melted cheese puddling around the sides. “That a good shit or bad shit?”

“Three dollars.” Z acknowledged, voice muffled by the food she still had in her mouth.

I laughed at that and shook my head in fond amusement before I turned to Em for an answer. He took another bite, a big one, something I took to be a good sign, and just nodded. My brow quirked in hope. “So good?”

He hummed, one shoulder shrugging, “Ain’t gone die if I finish it.”

Snorting, I could only shake my head at him, hiding my smile behind my fist. “Idiot. You like it.”

Marshall rolled his eyes, though the gesture was obviously fond as he raised his fork to point at me, “Just grateful you didn’t burn down my damn house.”

Rosie’s giggles filled the room and with them we all settled in to enjoy. Marshall asked after his daughter’s day and the girl was all too happy to ramble and rant to him, face lighting up at the prospect of it. She mentioned her English lesson, the book they had started on and how her teacher had explained this one paragraph to her class, then she went into detail about the play that was set to happen just before the Christmas break. I chimed in here and there, putting in my two cents where it was worth, but in truth, I was perfectly content to simply listen and watch on. 

The clean up that followed was mainly made up of me and Z messing around and singing to the music Em had stuck on, never the type to linger in silence. The pair of us did manage to rope the man into joining us once he had loaded up the dishwasher though, something he thoroughly complained about but followed through on all the same. He was just a sucker for his kid's smile, I reckoned, went above and beyond for the girl and it was all too easy to see.

It was a lot later that we all fell into a comfortable silence around the tele, Rosie sat crossed legged on the sofa with her homework whilst I offered help whenever asked. Marshall had joined the two of us a little later, after his phone had rang and he’d stepped out to take the call, he’d padded into the room with only the explanation of ‘Royce’ before he’d fallen into the seat beside me. I’d hummed but was too distracted by Rosie’s newest question to prod him further on it.

By the time she had finished up, handwriting practically perfect, her books had fallen into a heap on the coffee table and she’d slowly but surely scootched her way further up the sofa. I kept my eyes on the tele when I’d outstretched an arm in quiet invitation but hadn’t missed the grin she’d given in turn before she’d settled into my side, head coming to rest on my thigh. I caught Marshall’s watchful stare from out of the corner of my eye but didn’t glance back over, smiling at the scene that played out on the screen whilst my hand smoothed over the girl’s hair. 

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed between us before Marshall’s quiet cough broke the peace we’d since created, but the sky was more of a hazy cast of dark blue now rather than the ruddy auburn that had lined it much earlier. I stifled a small yawn.

Rosie sniffed softly in my lap, twisting a tad to cast her Dad a quizzical glance. Throughout the duration of the film that Z had picked out for us to watch, the man had gotten close enough that he now only had to drop his shoulders to poke at her cheek.

“Bath and bed, kid.”

The scrunch that overwhelmed Rosie’s face at the order had me grinning and so I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before moving my hand to pat her shoulder. “Up and at ‘em, soldier. Heard what the old man said.”

“Do I have to?” Z huffed, just as a hand came up to rub at her eye. Marshall’s mouth ticked ever so slightly into an amused smirk, his fingers replacing mine in an effort to smooth the front of her hair. 

“School tomorrow.” He reminded her all too gently, dropping his hand lower to shuck the underside of her chin which only made the girl smile sleepily. “You know the deal.”

She sighed heavily in retort, but did eventually make the move to push herself up and out of my lap, legs stretching across the couch cushions before her feet found the floor. It was just as she went to stand that she turned to face me though, her expression a little meek but rapidly losing the residual somnolence it had just held. “Will you do my hair again for me tomorrow?”

I was caught by surprise at the question she’d asked. I wouldn’t lie, but I didn’t let the reaction show as I smiled warmly back at her, reaching out to tap a finger on the top side of her hand, “‘Course. Anything you want, lovely.”

Rosie’s little grin had her eyes squinting and forced the corners of her mouth to pinch upwards in a move that only deepened her dimples. She leaned over to give me a hug of thanks, whispering the word into my ear before she pulled away and rounded the sofa, kissing her Dad’s cheek on her way out.

“No messin’ about, Z. An early night, ‘kay?” Em reminded her, leaning against the back of the couch so that he could tilt his head far enough to see her, “I’ll be up soon.” He added, his words met by another charming grin whilst she shook her head in fond exasperation and slipped out of the room, leaving just the pair of us and the tv. 

It was a long while before Marshall disturbed the quiet once more, the film we’d been watching had finished some time ago and so now all that was playing on the screen was a couple repeats of South Park and the odd advertisement. “She’s different with you.” I heard him voice.

With a furrowed brow, I let my head turn to find him. He was perched in the same position he had been, but now with an arm stretched along the back of the sofa and a knee bent to fill the small gap that still separated us. “What d’you mean?”

When he replied, it was low and soft, a murmur if not for the sincerity behind it. “She don’t act like that ‘round nobody.” He told me, fingers jumping in a steady rhythm on the back of the cushion, his eyes peering between mine. “Me, sure. She’s a fuckin’ koala when she wants to be, but with other people… it’s something she second guesses.”

His words confused me. Or rather, threw me. “I don’t get it.”

He dropped his gaze, blowing out a small but mirthful huff through his nose, his thumb dragged along the edge of the sofa. “You known her what, three days? And she don’t think about gettin’ close to you. Sure she’ll be coy with it, sly even, but that’s ‘cause she don’t wanna overstep with you. Like that right there–” Em said, getsuring his chin out towards my lap, I followed the gesture, then blinked back up at him, remembering the way she’d approached me, “She don't do that with people.”

My face must have given away to the fact that I was still trying to process the weight of what he meant, because his smile was soft, warm even.

It made me think of Lottie, who was always so open with her affection, who gave it out without thought or focus, her smile always great, always there. Then of myself. I tended to avoid affection where it mattered, a reason as to why I’d never let many people too close to my heart, why I hadn’t had something fulfilling to divulge when Marshall and I had spoken about past exes, I supposed. It baffled me to see some of the same tendencies I’d shown growing up in Rosie, in a girl too sweet, too loving, too happy to be so aware of how to guard herself.

I looked to him again and let him have his fill, allowed him to see how his words, the sentiment behind them, had pierced through the armour I’d long since moulded around myself. 

One side of his mouth lifted and he used the hand resting on the back of the sofa to circle my wrist, leaning in a little closer, filling that previous gap. “Ro’s had her mom, her sister. They’ve been there. They love her, and she loves them. I know that. But with Kim, it ain’t always parentin’, it’s fun and games. It’s showin’ off, not showin’ up. It’s messin’ around until she finally grows–” 

He paused there, eyes flickering left and then right as his tongue swiped over his lower lip, almost as though he was resentful of the term he wished to use. 

He settled for, “Bored. Or maybe jus’ tired, you know? She’s there until it's her time to step up and do the job she’s ‘sposed to, til it's missed recitals and forgetting pick-up, that’s when she reacts. Pulls away.”

He sighed, gaze caught on his fingers, on the easy way they engulfed my wrist. His thumb brushed over the freckle that dotted the bone, and continued on through a slow exhale, “Ayla, she’s a lot older. She does her own thing, she’s got school, work, friends. Z obviously filters into all that, but there's always been a small divide. I like to think it’s just ‘cause of their ages– it’s how me and Nate worked growin’ up, you know? But there’s this whole idea that fuckin’ messes with my head, like maybe it's all down to me. Ayla’s my niece, but she’ll always be one of my own. I love that girl as much as I love Rosie. More than life itself. But I know I hurt her, havin’ her here, watchin’ me fail and fuck up whilst she was growin’ up. And jus’, maybe I can’t help but wonder if I ever let her know that enough, that I loved her, if it’s that that’s impacted her relationship with Z.”

I was quick in my attempt to soothe his doubts, the hand he didn’t hold jumping over to lay across the top of his own. “I’d call you an idiot, but I reckon you already know that.” I chuckled halfheartedly, though my smile was genuine when his eyes snapped up to meet my own, “You’re an amazing father, Em. I honestly believe that with my whole heart. And it doesn’t take much to see it either. I mean, I was here not even a day and was so quick to see the love you held for your daughter. I saw it in your reactions too when we called, when you spoke of them, however brief it was. I haven’t met Ayla but I don’t think I’d have to for me to see that your worries are just that, worries. I’m sure that girl loves you in the very same sense that I am sure that she knows you love her. That you see her as much more than just your niece.”

My thumb trailed over the back of his hand, skimming knuckles, taking in their slight discoloration, the faint white lines that could have only been age old scars. I dipped my head a tad so that my gaze could align with his shadowed blues, prompting him into lifting his eyes from off the floor.

“I’m also honoured that you think Rosie’s comfortable enough around me to mention the gravity behind it, that you’d trust me with her company, let alone her affection.” I said sweetly, gifting him another smile, it was close lipped but one that appled my cheeks. His stare caught onto it, fingers tightening around my wrist by a fraction in a squeeze that showed only his appreciation. So I squeezed back, fingers fastening over the top of his fist. “Z’s hard not to love, she’s all of your best parts and more. Sometimes…” 

I took a small breath, fretful over saying what I had intended to until Marshall met my flickering gaze once more, silently prompting me on. I swallowed thickly, feeling the force of it travel through my throat, but did follow through, “Sometimes it’s just hard raising kids, I guess not everyone’s made out for the harsher reality of it all. Of having to be a parent and not a friend. I mean, it was forced on me in a way, I’ve been raising my siblings since Danny the day came along, since before I knew what being a mum meant. What one was.” The weight of that admission had me reeling for a split second, at the truth it held. But I pursed my lips before allowing my eyes to find Marshall’s once more, “Kim, I’m sure she tries, I’m sure it’s more than my mum ever did, ever could do, but it’s okay for you to fear that it’s not enough for Z, too.”

Marshall worked his jaw, blinking for a second before he eventually spoke, voice rasping with the emotion he felt. “Kid deserves the world.”

I found myself grinning at that, the teary kind which glossed over your eyes but was strong enough that you couldn’t prevent the fluid motion of it. It was without thought that my arms came up to wind their way around his neck and I relaxed further in the gesture when I eventually felt his face come to rest against my shoulder.

“She does.” I murmured, hand cupping the back of his neck, fingers resting over the fine hair which lined his nape. “She does.” I heard myself repeat again as my eyes slipped closed. 

When we parted, I watched as Em knuckled the corner of his eye, grunting faintly to clear his throat and rid the room of any tension that then clouded us. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, but did look away towards the tele when he started to shift once more, giving him a sense of security that he hadn’t been caught out, that I wouldn’t dig too deeply into his reaction. 

“Thanks.” He murmured after a stunted moment and it was only then that I glanced back over to him. I smiled in turn.

“Nothing to thank me for.”

When we parted ways for the night, I chose to head on up to bed, mind so full of thoughts that I found it hard to latch onto a singular one, whilst Marshall stopped at the bottom of the staircase to gift me a quiet goodnight, eyes caught on the reflection of moonlight that crept its way across my cheek, the sight mirrored on his own face.

I didn’t know it then but I would eventually, he’d never felt so inspired.

So as I’d slipped beneath my duvet, my mind stuck on the words we’d shared, Marshall was back down in the studio, writing away once more. But this time, it was for a completely different reason.

[jolalibrary]

stockings and stars

javier peña x f!reader

summary: Still need the star putting on the top of the tree. ive got other plans for you Because I’m the star? yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back

from the late night texts world - but can still be enjoyed on its own. chapter warnings: allusion to/mentions of smut. no actual smut. javi undresses you, though. flirting. fluff. reader wears red lingerie and a dressing gown. javi flirting. sexy talk, romcom vibes ofc ✨ wordcount: 3k

an: to @goodwithcheese merry christmas from me, to you. thank you for everything, for the tuesday fun we have - i wanted nothing more than to have this out sooner, but life, you know? but, i adore you. and I'm so glad we found one another. ahuge thanks to @thetriumphantpanda who cheerleaded for me throughout.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Will I be seeing Santa Javi today? I want to decorate my tree.

one time I come to yours in a red shirt

You also had the tree under your arm and a bag of baubles, I’d class those as gifts.

keep talking baby and you can decorate your tree alone

Think I’m gonna wear that shirt you left here while I do it. Make sure I have to get up on my tip toes. Hope it doesn't rise up...

you don’t play fair

I think I’ll be in stockings too…

youre killing me

Maybe they’re white and red, and…

baby if i wasn’t putting this thing up for Pop, i’d be driving over right now

Hope you hurry up, I need someone tall to put the star on top of the tree.

how am I gonna eat you out when youre perched on the tree baby

The last thing on his to-do list from his Pop is to hang the front porch garland.

He had learnt there had been a huge difference in the front and the back porch garlands. A fifteen-minute-long difference when he'd timed the response given to his sarcastic answer.

Javi learnt there was not only one for the back porch and the front, but one which sat across the fireplace and one on the staircase.

He learnt that after he'd made a joke about mixing them up—earning himself a very pointed glare, and the task of the front porch.

Now, it’s a battle he’s losing.

Tremendously so.

While he’d never want his Pop to do the more challenging tasks, he did rather hate he hadn’t thought to trade this one in for the back porch at the very least—because that had looked fucking easy.

Holding the garland in hand, he’s suddenly hit with a second wave of nostalgia, the first having arrived when he'd pulled down the box and peered into it.

It did the same thing as it had done then, all but rushed over him, layering itself on his shoulders, sitting, nothing short of a comfortable weight on him. Letting his gaze fall out over it, he smiles at the tuffs of fabric, all the bows tied by hand, all in an array of sizes and shades.

Over time, he can see how they've become sun-dyed, remembering the first year they'd been sewn into the faux greenery by his mamá, memories of her all hunched over, humming carols.

Smiling, he rolls his lips, letting out a heavier sigh than he intended as he drags it to the post he’d begin at.

But, all he wonders is whether in the years he wasn’t here, whether it was occasionally hung—or if this year is just that special.

The mere hint that he was going to ask if you wished to spend Christmas at the ranch had sent his Pop into overdrive. Practically yanked him out of his chair like he’d been electrified, a bunch of orders being flung from under his white, wiry moustache that they needed to get ready.

He wasn't sure he'd get the image of his Pop suddenly scrambling around like a man half his age, to drag the decorations out from the cupboard, would ever be erased from his mind. Least of all the sound you'd made aww'ing down the phone when he'd given you a condensed version of the story.

Because he hasn't asked you yet, not properly.

Even though he's spent the last two days at the back of barns and spending a ridiculous amount of time at the hardware store—because we need to make sure the lights stay up, Jav.

He just hasn't found the right time to ask you. A promise each time he goes to see you left in the air. Not that his Pop remembers that, instead he's just busy thinking up ways to make it special: one of which includes decorating the trees at the entrance to the ranch.

An idea having sprouted with the newest ranch hand—one which, if Javi overheard correctly, involves rope acting like tinsel and a cowboy hat being the star on the top of the trees.

Feeling his phone vibrate, he temporarily ignores it as he begins to weave the beginning of the garland around the wood—already knowing, before he tries to move it around the spindles, that it isn’t going to be easy.

Because nothing ever fucking is.

Least of all when you’re waiting for him.

His mind begins to concoct images of you in bows and sheer material, lips painted, sat waiting, smelling nothing short of heavenly as you call out for—

“Fuck,” he shouts, dropping the garland to the ground.

It had pricked him, stabbed him right in the skin—hand shaking the pain out, face likely all scrunched. And, if it didn't have sentimental value, he's sure he'd have kicked its protesting ass with everything he had. Instead, he just narrows his eyes more than he had done moments ago as he begins again.

He feels his nostrils flare when it begins to undo itself. The sound of faux bristles on wood grates him before it will even attempt to do what he needs it to.

And it makes him want to quit, to throw it back into the box and tell his Pop it isn’t worth it. But he knows it is. Knows that his mama didn’t spend hours bent over under flickering light for it not to be seen.

Javi also strongly suspects you’d love it. Likely run your fingers over several bows asking who made it. He can even imagine the look of joy on your face when he tells you.

It’s why, if he didn’t already suspect it anyway, he’s pretty sure his Pop loves you more than him. Because even the first Christmas he was back, there weren’t this many decorations; not nearly as much need to have them all out, either.

Not that Javi really minds—or blames him.

There’s a notable shift in energy when you stay over. Even more so in him. He can see there’s a cheer and a glow to the place—one Javi hates watching vanish when he takes you back to your place.

It's why, when—and where—he can, he fights for you to be here. Practically finds convincing ways to do so, including, crossword puzzles, dinner, and two-person showers. But, at some stage, your clothing dwindles, underwear runs low, and he has to make the painful drive into town to return you to your place.

Your fingers in his hair, practically clambered into his lap as you whisper that you’ll be back before he knows it. His fingers on your chin, thumb stroking out the words he says right back—that he’ll miss you all the same.

Javier Peña. Texan softie—what will the world think?

He only thinks one thing when he drives back—a response which had been there on his lips. Guess they’ll see just how much I love you. A thing you know, comment on, say back to him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. An array of promises there, sometimes spoken at a normal level and sometimes whispered.

You always keep them, just like the one that you are always back before he knows it.

He likes it when you are. Enjoys it when you’re nestled beside him, arm across his chest, hand close to his ribs—strumming them, tracing lines and words he tries to understand before sleep takes him.

He still always sleeps better when you’re beside him. When his breathing can mirror yours, when he can feel for you in the night when he’s awoken with nightmares and things he knows won’t ever come true.

Now, he’s fighting a different battle. One to get to you.

Halted in his path to freedom by the garland which refused to be hung, and could be labelled as giving him more grief than the horses which had banded together. A phrase he never thought he’d admit out loud, never mind think.

You still fighting with the garland?

baby its torturing me on purpose

Do you want me to come and help?

will you come in the stockings

No!! Your dad is there.

then stay there actually lie down, but do not begin without me

Still need the star putting on the top of the tree.

ive got other plans for you

Because I’m the star?

yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back

Hurry then.

i’m hurrying

He does hurry—practically scratched up by the time he’s parking his truck outside your place.

As he takes the step up to your door, Javi realises how much he misses it here when he doesn’t visit. A place less frequent and often spent time in, even under your insistence of renting it.

It is always usually a stopping point, him parking up, letting you go in and grab what you need before you're back in his truck, heading back to his.

He does like your place though, likes how small it is, how cosy. Plus, it has all the things which make you, you. A thing his place is currently missing.

Although, as he steps through the door, and calls your name, he does have to admit it currently looks fucking ridiculous.

On a good day, he’d describe your place as crowded, but right now, it’s claustrophobic.

The tree you’d forced him to get is shoved into a corner, branches fluffed out, surrounded by the piles of unpacked boxes you’ve tried to discreetly hide. Your remaining floorspace is overtaken by a bit of rug, several piles of books (you have no room for, but continue to buy) and odd bits of furniture you find and attempt to restore.

For the most part, you’ve decorated. A thing you did inform him of.

You’ll be pleased to know when you get here your only job is the star. managed it all yourself, did you I’m a very competent woman, Javi. oh i know baby ive seen you with a crossword Does that do it for you? Me finishing a crossword. does something to me Get over here. im leaving now

There’s a warm, comforting glow spread out across the place from the fairy lights you’ve hung and the array of mismatched decorations—both bought and handmade—hanging from branches.

He breathes in the scent of orange which hangs in the air, his eyes finding the culprit on your fireplace, a garland—one not dissimilar to the one he’d been battled with—places there, mocking him due to the ease of which had been laid, with oranges and little beads all entwined within it.

Snorting, he glances back at your tree, spotting the things he's been with you when you've bought. And, as promised—and informed him through text—there’s nothing at the top of your tree.

“You finally made it!”

Spinning on his heel, he comes face to face with you, and fuck if the sight of you doesn’t make it all worth it.

Dressed in a red, silky dressing gown, all tied in the middle, you're a vision. Then, there's the fact your lips are painted a shade he’d now famously dub Christmas red, a colour he wants nothing more than to be stained with. A path of it from his mouth down to the space where his jeans meet his hips. A thought which seems to only make how tight his jeans are even more uncomfortable.

“Cariño, you’re…”

You sway a little, letting the fabric move—allowing his gaze to land on the stockings. The ones he’s been thinking about all afternoon. The ones he can’t wait to feel under his palm and know whether they’ll create friction when wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck me.”

“I’m kinda banking on it,” you say, biting your red-painted lip. “But first…”

His hand crawls around your waist, feeling the smooth, soft texture under his hand—swallowing, dragging his eyes up and down you, unsure how he could ever be so lucky—how something so good could ever be here for him to unwrap.

“I need you to hang the star,” you continue.

“Right now?”

Nodding, you ghost your lips over his. “I’ve been so good waiting for you.”

“You're never good. You, baby, are a menace.”

“I’m your menace.”

Snorting, he presses a kiss to your lips. “Damn right, you are.”

Moving from you, reluctantly, only to pick up the gold star he assumes you want to hang, getting a nod from you that he’s right.

“Need to ask you something too.”

And even though he’s only taken a mere short step from you, he’s floored all over again about what a picture you look like when he glances back. That you’re standing all for him, dressed in nothing but cheer and ribbons all for him.

“Go on.”

Turning to your tree, he flattens his hand to the wall for stability. “I wanted…”

His concentration slides in—suddenly aware he doesn’t want to knock anything from the branches. Doesn’t want to force things to be misplaced from where they were expertly hung.

He’s also sure he’s wanting to swallow the question. A part of him, all the way deep inside of him, having been bracing—and waiting—to hear you’d be apart for the holidays. A thing the two of you have rarely been since you moved here, not a day going by he hasn’t seen you for at least an hour.

“Wanted to know if you—shit—” the star almost sitting atop, before at the last minute protesting. “I wanted to know if you wanted to spend Christmas with me—with us, me and Pop. At the ranch.”

The star slides into place, sitting more comfortably with another shove, more branch supporting it.

But he doesn’t turn, not immediately. Not as the question hums around him, swirls in the silence of you not immediately saying yes. So much so, that it takes him a second to move on his heels, to face you—to read the answer before it’s delivered.

What he sees is something his heart couldn’t have ever prepared for.

You, grinning—a silly, almost goofy, smile spreading out as you bite down on your lip, forehead slightly crinkled.

“You… you want me to spend the holidays with you?”

“Of course—cariño, I want nothing more than for you to be with me.”

It all quick to leave his mouth, mirroring the movement to be back in front of you, fingers under your chin, lifting your eyes—those beautiful, fucking eyes—to his.

“Do… do you—wanna spend it with me?”

You pull a different face before you’re nodding. One more excited, one which begins to expel out over a smile and a bunch of escaping phrases such as I can’t believe you want me with you and of course.

“Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

Shrugging, you scrunch your nose—an act he finds just as cute as the first time he saw it. “Guess it’s a big deal. It’s… a thing people do with families.”

Pulling you close by your hips, your hand lands flat on his chest. “You are my family.”

“Javi,” you whisper, making each letter feel so individual the way you say it, that it makes his heart double.

“It’s true. You’re it for me, cariño. All I’ve wished for.”

Eyes widening, your eyes shimmer under the lights—more so than normal. Taking a deep breath, you lift your chin before pressing a kiss to his mouth. One which turns hungry, desperate—your mouth searing, a thing he’s craved since he woke up before the sun even rose.

“Baby,” you whisper.

And he hums.

It vibrates out, able to feel it from the way his fingers cup your cheek.

“Undo me.”

Releasing your lips with a pop, he opens his eyes, studying your eyes, moving from one to the other.

“Go on,” you urge in a whisper, more breathless, more tinged with something that makes his skin hot.

Sliding his fingers over the knot, he barely has to tug before it comes undone—unveiling you, like a curtain which wishes to part. If he’d thought you’d looked good before, he’s sure every bit of you is a sin now—a Christmas sin.

Red and lace. It’s all he sees. It sitting there, against you, hugging your breasts—sitting on your hips. His mouth is suddenly dry at the thought of running his tongue over the place it meets your skin before pulling it down.

Your fingers follow his eyes, sliding between the valley to land on the bow in the centre, twisting the edge of the tie around your index finger—palm skating over your stomach, allowing him more chance to take in how you’re stood before him in see-through fabric and promises.

“How’d I get so lucky?” he asks, more to no one, than to you.

His fingers teasing the fabric sat on your hip—marvelling, unsure how to think straight until you clear your throat, forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Hey,” you whisper, tightening your hold on his hands, bringing his arms more around your waist, pressing your front to him, feeling the heat from your skin through your clothes. “You’re all I wished for too.”

Smiling, he looks at your tree, before landing back on you. “You look so good.”

“I know. Could look better though?” His brow arches as you slowly begin to smile, the tip of your tongue sliding over your upper lip. “Everything is held in place by bows.”

Groaning, he closes his eyes, letting his hand slide down your lower back, over sheer material before his fingers find the ribbon on your hip.

“All for you.”

“Mine,” he answers, slotting his mouth over yours—staining the four letters to your lips.

His fingers slide around, brushing over soft skin, until he finds the first bow. Undoing it with ease, licking into your mouth, only to grunt against you when you whimper as the fabric falls to your feet.

“Yours,” you say back, your own hands beginning to undo him.

an: merry christmas, love you

[ficmashup]

Taken

Summary: You join TF141 after something happened on your last deployment. They take you in and while it takes some time, you find yourself warming up to them, and them to you. Perhaps especially to the Captain.

A/N: Nothing like a sprinkle of angst on Christmas Eve. ;) I will be doing a part two for this because I can't resist, but can't promise when I'll post it. Soon, I hope! Have a lovely holiday to everyone celebrating. :)

Warnings: SA mentions if you squint, crass language, death, stabbing, beating, shooting, torture, angst, trauma, overall I just decided to stab the characters in the feels. Just a bit. Happy ending though, imo.

Word Count: 4.7k

Masterlist

It’s not expected, but then again, these things never are.

What kills me the most is that Ghost had to be there, had to see it. I’d rather it had been anyone else just so I could spare him the pain of reopening old wounds. We’d been clearing a warehouse and stumbled upon more than we’d expected. We both realize our mistake at different times and I have a split-second decision to make. I’m ahead of Ghost by a dozen or so feet and hidden behind a pile of crates, so I see the group first.

There’s no time to warn Ghost and if he comes forward, he’ll be shot on sight. So I step forward first. I take out those closest to his entry point and my focus on keeping him safe leaves me vulnerable. Ghost moves in just as I’m grabbed from behind and I ram the butt of my gun backward into my captor’s ribs. There’s a grunt, but he doesn’t let go and I drop my gun to hang from my chest in exchange for the long knife on my thigh. I plunge the blade into his thigh and hear a string of curses spat into my ear as their grip only tightens on me.

I fail to realize that during the struggle, they’ve managed to drag me backward towards a side door. My last view as I twist the knife is Ghost’s wide eyes behind the mask before my head is slammed against the wall and all goes dark.

*     *     *

I wake up tied to a chair. I keep utterly still and take stock of my body. My head is heavy and I feel the tightness of the skin on the right side of my face from where blood has dried. There’s a sharp sting coming from across my collar bone and my right ankle twinges. A sprained ankle and a scrape, I’d guess. Possibly a concussion. Nothing too bad. My wrists and ankles are tied to the arms and legs of a chair and the rope chafes, but the ties are sloppy. Keeping me here like this was unexpected, then. An opportunity that they couldn’t pass up.

I keep my breathing steady and my head bowed with my eyes shut. All I do for a few moments is listen. There’s shuffling and voices, but they’re muffled and seem to be coming from a nearby room. Multiple people, but more than likely less than a dozen. I take a chance and open my eyes, looking up and finding the space dim and empty. It looks like a shack barely held together by the sand and dirt covering the floor.

“Awake.” A voice with a rough accent comes from behind me and my spine stiffens as he moves in front of me. He’s limping slightly and I get a brief moment of satisfaction at knowing this is the man who grabbed me and I clearly dealt some serious damage. With the dried blood on my face and him being able to walk after clear medical assistance, I’d say I’ve been gone a few hours. The fact makes what’s left in my stomach curdle.

The man says a few words that I don’t understand, then one that I do. “…bitch.”

I chuckle softly. “Unoriginal.” His fist darts out and the hit is harder than I expect. It leaves me dizzy as the weak chair rocks with the impact. Stays on all fours, though. The man grunts and spits at my feet before walking to the door, apparently satisfied with his revenge. He opens the door and shouts something down the hall before looking at me with ill intent in his eyes. I shift a bit in my chair, noting that they’ve removed my uniform and boots. I’m only in tight shorts and my tank top. It’s going to be torture then. Fine. I’ve already been through hell and lived through it, fashioned myself teeth from the mouths of my demons I killed, I can take whatever poor imitation these amateurs try.

Three more men come in and one steps in front of the others. “Why you here?” He asks in broken English.

“To kill people like you.” I answer simply, staring unblinkingly at him.

He gives me a smile. “Coincidence. That is why we here as well. To kill people like you.” It’s a struggle not to roll my eyes. That’s the base of every conflict in the history of the world. He pulls his handgun and aims it at my forehead while I go completely still. “Tell me more.”

*     *     *

Hours pass. The torture is easy enough to sit through, nothing unexpected, nothing skilled, nothing I haven’t been trained for. The true killer is waiting with my own thoughts. Like thinking that they aren’t coming for me. Stupid. Utterly stupid. Yet the persistent feeling of being unworthy lingers in my chest. And I know that the longer I’m here, the more nagging those thoughts will be.

They can finally be rid of you, no trouble, no hassle, just a lost soldier, happens all the time.

I gasp as a soldier lands a particularly well-aimed punch to my gut and the chair finally falls over. I feel the arm crack at the impact while the group laughs, but the ropes around my right wrist and ankle are now free. My fingers slowly curl around the splintered piece of wood hidden under my body. One of the men waves his hand and another steps forward and yanks the chair back up. I use the momentum of the sudden movement to plunge the long piece of wood into his throat and get my free leg up under me to keep me from toppling over.

The man’s eyes go wide as he chokes on his own blood and everyone else in the room is frozen with shock. I take advantage of that and take the gun in the man’s thigh holster and manage to shoot two men before they draw their guns and one more before they manage to shoot. I use the body of the man I stabbed as cover, but I can barely hold him up. I grunt under the impact of a bullet hitting his dead weight and feel another bullet graze my shoulder before the door straight across from me bursts open. I take advantage of the distraction and shoot one more while the other gets a bullet between the eyes from the intruder’s gun.

I turn on instinct and level my gun at the intruders, stopping my finger just in time when I see the distinct, pale skull mask. “Fuck.” I lower the gun and let the body drop to the floor as Ghost pushes in, but I don’t miss the way he looks me over.

His hand grabs his radio before anything. “Clear, I’ve got the package.” He slings his gun over his back as he reaches me and I don’t realize that I’m trembling until he guides my hand to his shoulder to keep me upright as he unties my other wrist and ankle. My fingers cling to his tac vest like a lifeline.

“Confirmed. If package is secure, move out.” Price’s voice comes over the radio and my heart squeezes at the sound of his voice. I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and my hand still holding the gun twitches before I recognize Soap moving into the doorway to watch our backs.

“Clear, LT.” He reports before looking me over with wide eyes. I must really look like shit then.

“Affirmative.” Ghost responds over the radio with a wave back at Soap to tell him the same. “How bad, G?” He asks gruffly once the flimsy chair falls to the floor behind me and he stands up, keeping his forearms within my reach so I can use him to stand. His fingers graze my arms too, not gripping or grabbing, simply guiding.

My head shakes as I stare at him. “Not bad. Nothing broken.”

He nods in return and pulls out my uniform shirt and pants that he must have collected from the other room. My boots too. “Then let’s go. Can you walk?” I take my clothes gratefully and he keeps to my side while I slide the top on with only a slight wince as the fabric slides over the open wounds covering me. The pants are a little more difficult, but I manage before nodding to Ghost that I’m ready. He wraps an arm around my waist and I lower his hand to my hip as my ribs ache with protest. He corrects his grip and we limp out with Soap leading, gun up.

A few more bodies litter the narrow hall and the room beyond, but the true relief is when we walk outside and I can see the stars. I hadn’t realized how stale the air was in that shack and how the metallic smell of blood had stained my nostrils. I gulp down the cool air before I press my lips together as I hold in a laugh. My shoulders start shaking and Ghost’s pace falters before I shake my head. “It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s just the shock and exhaustion.” Laughter taints every word and I swear Ghost’s eyebrows furrow with concern before we keep moving.

“You get scarier all the time, G.” Soap comments ahead and I can’t hold back a low laugh even as I shake my head at myself.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.” I breathe as the giggles make every word waver.

Ghost’s grip tightens as we carefully scale down the side of the rocky hill. “Not sure what you’re apologizin’ for. You fuckin’ got taken watching my ass and I’d rather have you laughin’ than anything else.”

My head shakes, the laughter fading as I struggle to keep my feet moving while my body starts to shut down. “I’m sorry for thinking you wouldn’t come for me.” Ghost comes to a full stop now as I look between the men and Soap has shock scrawled over his face.

“Course we did, lass. The hell you talkin’ bout?” Soap’s accent gets a little thicker, betraying how deep my words hit.

Ghost starts to move again and I stumble after him even though he’s practically carrying me on his hip. “Keep movin’.” He grumbles and regret lingers in my chest as we fall silent the rest of the way. At the bottom of the rocky path sits a car and my heart beats a little faster at seeing the two figures waiting there for us. Ghost picks me up and carries me the rest of the way before immediately handing me to Price once we’re close enough. He holds me close and tight for far too brief a moment before sitting me on the hood of the car. The moonlight is just bright enough to make out each other’s features and I can’t get enough of his eyes, even with the worry filling them.

“You broken?” He asks quietly and I can hear how the words drag and crackle on the way out of his chest. His hand perches on the side of my neck, his thumb brushing lightly over my pulse point to feel my heart beating.

I give him a weak smile. “Just a bit chipped. Nothing permanent.” I promise and it’s a gift to see a little tension leave his shoulders. “But I’ve lost a lot of blood. I need to be kept conscious as we head back.”

“Still the medic, hm?” He teases dryly but the attempt at humor soothes me more than anything else. “Gaz, let’s go. Fast and steady.” Price pushes the keys into Gaz’s hands as he passes by with a wink, pushing something small that crinkles in my hand. A real smile tugs on my lips. A candy. We pile in the car and it’s a surprise to find myself pressed tight between Ghost and Price with Gaz driving and Soap in the passenger seat. It’s as if everyone traded seats.

“Did…did either of you grab my med kit?” I ask as my head gets a bit dizzy and I pop the hard candy Gaz gave me into my mouth. Soap turns in his seat with a half-grin, holding up my kit. My hands reach for it, but Ghost intercepts and pulls it into his lap.

“What d’ya need?” He asks as he opens it and looks over the contents.

I shift the candy into my cheek. “Bandages. My ankle’s fucked. Need to wrap it at least.” Ghost glances at Price and they instantly come to a nonverbal agreement as John shifts me closer to him while Simon gingerly lifts my foot into his lap. I frown. “I can do it—”

“Let him. That’s an order.” John’s voice in my ear and the command in it has my body stiffening for a moment, then laxing a moment after. My back is pressed against John’s chest with his arm thrown across my middle, his hand heavy on my hip to use it as a steadying point rather than put any pressure on my ribs. He must’ve noticed how Ghost was holding me earlier. Doesn’t miss a thing, my Captain.

Ghost eases my boot off and my hands clench at the pain, but he’s careful and the steady ache of the rest of my body makes it easy enough to sit through. Once my sock is off too, he takes out a small flashlight and I grimace as the light illuminates just how bad my ankle looks. It’s red and swollen from all the activity I forced it through after the sprain. Ghost starts wrapping and I nod when he looks at me to make sure he’s doing it correctly.

When he’s finished and I’m satisfied, I move to pull my foot away, but he keeps a firm hold on it. He gives me a deadpan look. “Keep it elevated.”

I give him a look back that I’m sure is a bit lackluster given my current condition. “It’s supposed to be elevated above my heart, but that’s not happening in the car.”

“Better this than nothing.” Ghost responds without a second of hesitation and his eyes don’t budge from mine. My mouth opens again, then shuts when Price gives my hip a soft squeeze. My lips purse, but I don’t say another word as I relax into John and try to keep my eyes open. I rest my hand on John’s knee and my thumb slides back and forth as I breathe in his scent.

“Give me a list of injuries.” He says and I nod, fighting through the fog of my mind to think clearly.

“Uh, sprained ankle, head wound, possible concussion, multiple lacerations, bruised ribs on my right side, a bullet graze to my left shoulder, and some bumps and bruises.” I go over the list twice in my head before nodding slightly in confirmation. The car is silent for a few beats and I feel a weight settle over all of us. The weight that comes with caring for someone else and hurting when they’re hurt. I swallow, struggling to accept the feeling rather than struggle against it and feel guilty for inflicting it on others. In truth, it’s a choice they all made. I choice I made too, when I let them in.

“Don’t think I ever asked how you are when you’re the one who needs to be treated.” John barely breaks the silence, but the tension lessens when I hum a tired laugh.

“Oh, I’m sweet as sugar, Captain. Naturally.” That gets chuckles from most of the men in the car.

“Liar.” Soap accuses, grinning back at me and I give him a smile in return. Also, I show him my middle finger. He returns the gesture instantly and happiness flits through me at the simple banter.

“You’re not gonna be difficult for me, are you, sugar?” John whispers just low enough for me to hear and I smile, wincing as it stretches a cut on my cheek.

“I like to think I behave better than most of you do when you need care.” I give Ghost a pointed look since he’s the worst of the bunch and he grunts, shaking his head while Soap and Gaz make noises of dissent.

Price shifts and my grip tightens on his knee until he settles again. “I remember being pretty docile last time.”

“After some convincing.” I return, my eyes shutting for just a moment before I feel light flicking at my nose. My eyes open and see Ghost pulling his hand back, head shaking with eyes on mine. I nod once. Got to stay awake. It goes on like this for the rest of the drive. One or all of them keeping up a conversation with me while Ghost taps my nose, pulls my ear, or annoys me in some other way when I start to drift. When we arrive at base, I can barely give one-word answers because I’m so exhausted.

The men rush me into the medical tent and I hate being set on the bed, hate being the one who needs treatment, hate the starchy feel of the sheets, and hate being poked and prodded. There’s a deep frown on my face as I allow the medics to do their job and they give Price the same list of injuries that I gave him earlier. Only after they hear that, and that I’m going to be fine with rest and treatment, Price dismisses the others and they reluctantly go. Although Gaz slips me another hard candy before he goes and gets a smile out of me.

Price stays. Even after the medics pull me aside and push me into a sterile bath to clean all my cuts after I practically showered in that man’s blood, I return smelling like chemicals and find Price waiting. I give him a look and the corner of his mouth lifts, but I can’t bring myself to verbally scold him. His presence settles me as it always has and that’s something I’m especially grateful for while I’m here.

There are a few places where I need stitches and I sit through it silently, Price and I just looking each other over. Seeing that we’re both alive and safe. The medics wrap my ankle again and lay me down in bed with it elevated while I try to keep my grumbling to a minimum. I’m exhausted, but this place, this position, keeps me on edge. But it’s getting harder to resist.

“Just sleep.” John says with a hint of humor in his voice as he sits in the chair next to me.

I heave a breath, nodding. “I’m not fighting it. Just hard to do in a place like this.” He moves a touch closer and breathing comes a little easier as his fingers slot with mine, the tips of his fingers sliding over the length of mine. He understands more than most why I’m having trouble.

“You’re not going to be alone here. Not for a second.” He promises with nothing but sincerity in those lovely blue eyes. My lips press together.

“I can’t ask you for that.”

“You’re not. I’m giving it to you.” He returns instantly and I can’t help but melt. Can’t argue with that. “Sleep.” His other hand raises to slide over my head, his fingers twisting a few locks of hair between them. My eyes flutter closed at the feeling and I don’t mean to fall asleep, but his gentle touch lulls me into peace in seconds.

*     *     *

I wake up feeling a slight weight settling on top of me and I’m on alert in a split second, my eyes flashing open and my hands darting out to grab what I can. The person freezes and I end up staring into dark eyes with their wrist in one hand and the collar of their shirt in the other. “Just me, G.” The voice takes a few moments to sink in, but I relax a second later with a grimace as the sudden movement tweaked my ribs.

“Ghost.” I breathe and slowly release him while he lets go of my wrist that he grabbed to keep me from choking him. “Gotta stop meeting like this.” I tease and he hums as he sits in the chair next to me, moving it as close to the bed as he can. I settle back down and note that the slight weight was another one of his jackets laid over my chest. A little smile pulls on my lips at the sight.

“Think I’d have learned by now. Especially since you still have my other jacket.” He flicks his chin towards the one covering me and I smirk while my heartbeat slowly calms. He’s only wearing the cloth that covers his face tonight and there’s no black smudged around his eyes. It’s as close to being Simon as he allows himself to be on base.

“I always meant to return it.” I say honestly, thinking fondly of his jacket hanging in my closet back home. “Think I like it too much now. I’ll get you another one.” That earns me a rare chuckle as he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Sounds good.” He agrees and there’s that little glint in his eye that tells me he has something to say. He’s either waiting until he’s ready to say it, or he’s still mulling over the words in his mouth. “Took me a solid ten minutes to get Price out of here.” I smile, imagining the soft argument followed by Ghost shoving Price out of the infirmary.

“Thanks for relieving him.”

He shakes his head. “Not a problem.”

“And you wanted to talk to me.” I help him along a bit with amusement in my voice as his fingers knit together and his gaze steadies on mine.

“I did.” He confirms and now I wait, letting him decide when he’s ready to talk. My hands slide over the jacket he laid over me, grateful for the lack of chemical smell emanating from it. It just smells like him. Like bitter tea leaves and a small citrus tang that usually taints his clothes. Probably his detergent. “I don’t forgive you.” He starts and my attention immediately shifts to him and his dark eyes trained on mine. “I don’t accept your apology for thinking we wouldn’t come for you because that’s bullshit and I won’t forgive you until you never fucking believe that again.”

My eyes widen when I hear the heat in his tone. It’s not that odd to hear Ghost get riled up, especially around Soap, but I’ve never had him take that tone with me. Not seriously. “I know it was stupid.”

“Damn right.” He grumbles and I give him a pointed look for rubbing it in. “Say it. Tell me you know we’ll always come for you.” His gaze is unyielding and I know he means it.

“I know the team will always come for me.” Even to my ears, the words sound hesitant. Ghost’s eyes narrow.

“You say that every day ’til it feels as natural as your fucking name. And I’ll ask you to say it every once and a while. ‘Til it’s a reflex.” I sigh, but his tone is insistent. After a moment, I relent with a nod and he pins me in place with his eyes before nodding back and relaxing again in his chair. “You don’t get to save my ass, then think we’re not coming after you. Never believe that, G.”

“I get it, Ghost. I’ll do it.” Because it’s important to him and because he’s clearly trying to do something good for me, even if it’s something I hesitate to do. “And when I can stand without falling over, I’ll give you a hug for being such a pain in my ass.” The mask twitches and his eyes crinkle so I know he’s smiling.

“We’ll see if you can catch me to do it.” He returns and I smirk, knowing he’ll let me. “Now, go on and pass out. Price’ll have my hide if I keep you up.”

“Mmhmm.” I smile and let my exhaustion catch up with me, falling asleep a little easier with his scent in my nose rather than the chemicals that cleaned my body.

The next time I wake, Soap has taken Ghost’s place and morning light is seeping into the tent. “Morning, lass.” He greets and I give him a bleary grunt in return. “Cheery in the morning.” He quips and I’m about to tell him what he can do with his cheer before he points to a tray beside me. “That’s for you, if you’re up for it. Will ye let me help you up without bitin’ me?” Soap gets up and I nod, grabbing onto his arms as they slide under mine to pull me up into a sitting position.

A long breath leaves me as pain echoes through my body with every movement, but Johnny is gentle and makes sure to stack pillows behind me before moving back. He pushes a glass of water into my hand along with some pills. “Nurses said to give those to ya.”

I raise a brow and take the pills despite how my face hurts. I bet I really look like shit. “They trusted you with a task? I’m shocked.”

He smirks. “At least your spirits are still high.” Soap reaches over and pulls the tray closer to hover over my lap. “Eat up. Took everything in me not to steal your applesauce.” I hum amusedly, picking up the small container first and happily digging into the sweet treat. Soap flicks my ear. “Cruel lass. Careful, I might rethink my offer.”

I pause and raise a brow. “Offer?”

Mischief glints in his eyes and I take a deep breath to prepare myself. “You’re coming to Scotland with me.” He says with a smug grin. “The group we took out last night were the last few we were after, so we’re on leave starting the day after tomorrow. Since you’ve got no one waitin’ for ya at home, I’m takin’ ya with me to see my family. So I can keep an eye on ya.” He winks at me while I blink a few times to make sure I heard him right.

“That’s…that’s not necessary, Soap. I can take care of myself.” I frown as I think of myself laying on his couch surrounded by his family, just taking up space. “I couldn’t possibly impose on you and your family.” Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve met someone’s family. Parents…I haven’t been around parents in at least a fucking decade.

“Too bad.” Soap answers instantly, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ve already told my Ma and she’s excited to meet ya. If you resist, I’ll carry you there slung over my shoulder.” I pout, setting my food down on the tray as I try to think of a way out of this. “Come on, lass, it’ll be fun. You only have to stay off your foot for a little while and I’ll be there to entertain you in the meantime.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I look at him and if anyone can pull off a puppy dog look, it’s Johnny. After a few moments I sigh, pressing my fingers to my temple. “You’re sure your family doesn’t mind—”

“They’re fucking thrilled, G. Come on, just say you’ll come without a fight.” He leans forward and nudges my leg gently.

A smile tugs on my lips and I’ll admit the thought of seeing Johnny at home is a tempting one. “Yeah, okay, I’ll come.” His face brightens immediately and his big grin makes accepting worth it.

“You won’t regret it. One minute in Scotland and you’ll never want to leave.” He assures me and I nod along, listening with a fond smile as he tells me about his sisters, his mother’s cooking, and his father’s terrible jokes. To my own surprise, I find myself actually…looking forward to it.

Taglist (hello, lovelies, hope you enjoy. Lmk if anyone wants to be tagged):

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas @cherry-blosom-tree

@thriving-n-jiving @jinxxangel13 @emsstuff1 @missmidnight-writes @thereeallink @younggirlgenius @1wh4re1nova @ghostslillady

[sunnynwanda]

Done: Part 2

Part 1

Warning: This got more suggestive than expected. Minors DNI. 

It was quiet. Alarmingly so. Not a step broke the serenity of the library; not a page was being turned along the long rows of bookshelves, and not a shadow crossed the aisles. Villain let out a content sigh and returned their attention to the book on their lap. They were particularly fond of this secluded spot. They would visit the library every day when they were not yet known as Villain. Now that they had left the criminal life behind, this place seemed the best start for their new life. 

To their utter surprise, the citizens were worried for them when they did not show up for the regular battle in the middle of the week. They even started a mob leading to Hero’s headquarters to demand answers. Things were getting out of hand at an alarming speed, so Villain had to make an appearance and announce that the two parties had reached an agreement and would be ceasing their confrontations. 

Many still suspect that Hero did something to them. Well, to be fair, Hero did do something to them. More precisely, Hero did them. Except Villain could not get up there and say that. Not when the idea brought vehement colour to their face. It didn’t help that Hero kept teasing them too. When they made the announcement claiming to have reached a consensus, Hero chuckled. They then proceeded to inform everyone there were many disputes to discuss, to which Hero wiggled their eyebrows suggestively. Villain had to cut their speech short for the risk of exposing themselves. Their cheeks were burning brighter than the sun.

“I knew I’d find you here,“ Hero’s voice drags them out of their thoughts. They are standing across the window sill where Villain is seated, meaning they had to cross half of the library to get there. And Villain heard nothing. Shit. 

“How?” Villain wasn’t avoiding them. They were not. They might have needed time to think about what happened, because banging the enemy once was bad enough. Spending an entire night with them was worse. Finding it hard to leave in the morning because they crave more... was unthinkable. To say the least.

“I might have noticed you before we started the whole power play, ya know?“ Hero waves their hand vaguely, not pointing at anything. Or rather, at everything. “Back in uni.”

The thought sends a pleasant shiver down Villain’s spine. They shift, sliding their legs off the sill to sit upright. “Not funny.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.” Hero takes a few steps forward, blocking their way out. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not.” Villain has to squeeze the words out. Their throat feels tight, which has nothing to do with the memory of Hero’s mouth against it. Nothing at all.

“Yeah, right,” Hero shakes their head in disbelief at such a blatant lie. They lean against one of the bookshelves and cross their arms over their chest. “That’s why I haven’t seen you for a week.”

Villain huffs, unamused. They are not prepared for this conversation because anything Hero says will correspond with their desires, and they do not have enough arguments to counter them. Shit. “We agreed to stop meeting, remember?”

“No, we agreed to stop fighting for the city none of us needs,” Hero corrects with a patient smile. “We didn’t agree to stop seeing each other.”

“Hero, we can’t keep doing...” Villain breaks the charade, finally meeting their gaze. Hero doesn’t move, meeting their eyes with determination, “...what we did.”

“Why?” Hero’s voice is calm as they speak, yet they shrink when their nemesis remains silent. They know they are done for and that this idiot is to blame for that. Hero only needs to convey that much to them. “I thought you wanted it as much as I did.”

Villain cannot handle the dejected expression on their face. “I did.” I do. God, I do. They want to say it, and they almost do but stop a second too soon. “God, I... this is insanity!“

“No, it’s not.” Something about the way they speak encourages Hero. They move forward and slide their hands up Villain’s thighs, spreading their legs to stand between them. 

Hero is too close for Villain’s brain to function. Yet they make no attempts to distance themselves. “What are you doing?”

“This place always makes me think of you.“ The statement catches Villain by surprise. They are speechless for a good moment, staring at their ex-nemesis in wide-eyed wonder. “Or the things I wanted to do to you here.”

“W-what?” Villain’s breath hitches in their throat. They swallow. Hero’s eyes are locked on their neck as they pull their shirt to the side.

“You were always so quiet, sitting here with your books and those glasses you wore,” Hero’s lips meet their collarbone, feather-light and short as if testing the waters. They pause, lips parted in deep breaths, waiting for a reaction.

“Shit, Hero,” Villain can’t exactly articulate anything at this point. They grab the sides of Hero’s face and lean down, kissing them intense and deep. 

Hero lets out a low growl, pulling them closer by the waist. “Let’s see if you can stay quiet now.”

“Fuck it, Hero, the library...” A part of Villain’s conscious mind attempts to reason. But, as another kiss is placed on their collarbone, they find themselves unable to form coherent sentences. “Oh god... It’s... about... to open.”

“You think I care?” Hero whispers into the skin below their ear, then presses a kiss against their pulse. Shit.

“Bad Hero.” Villain’s words contrast the way their arms wrap around Hero’s shoulders, drawing them closer.

“For fuck’s sake, I’m not a dog,” Hero chuckles as their eyes fall shut when Villain’s hands run through their hair. They take a deep breath to steady their mind and add with a crooked smile. “Although I do know how to bite.” 

Villain hisses when Hero actually bites their jaw, then proceeds to kiss apologies into their skin. They lean back to look into Villain’s eyes, who finds it increasingly more difficult to focus on anything that doesn’t involve their nemesis on their bed. “You’re sweet, you know that?” 

“Fuck, stop with the teasing, will you?” Their impatience earns a satisfied grin from Hero. Smug bastard. 

“Mhm,” they look up with such longing that Villain’s head starts spinning. They know they are about to lose it, but what Hero says next is what sends them. “Tell me what you want then.”

With a shaky exhale, they clutch Hero’s collar and crush their lips in a starved kiss. “You. Fuck. You. I want you.” The heated whisper makes Hero’s knees buckle. 

They are wrapped in each others arms and panting heavily when the doors swing open, letting the librarians in. Villain’s entire body goes rigid in panic when Hero peels off of them. They struggle to fix their clothes, then escape through the window when someone rounds the corner. 

“Now that’s an adrenaline rush!” Hero exclaims in agitated excitement when they land in the safety of the roof.

“You are sick, you know that?” Villain exhales, still processing the implications and possibilities of getting caught. “Fucking bonkers!”

Hero laughs at that, dropping their head back and enjoying the blush creeping up Villain’s neck and cheeks. “You love it. Admit it already.” 

“You wish,” Villain retorts, leaning against the chimney for support. Their legs are weak from stress and arousal, but they won’t admit the second one in a lifetime.

“That I do,” Hero confesses with a sly smile, their lips swollen from making out. “Wanna know what else I’m gonna do?”

“If you say me, I’ll punch you,” Villain almost snarls, trying their best to look displeased. The warning earns a chuckle from Hero. 

They shake their head at how worked up Villain still is. “That too, but I meant taking you out to dinner.”

Villain’s eyes narrow in suspicion. They watch Hero approach them step by step. “No adrenaline this time?” 

“None if you wish so.” Villain knows for a fact Hero is lying. They can’t be over the fact that Villain called their confrontations boring. Hero’s eyes sparkle dangerously as they take the last step. They are going to give Villain a dinner to remember. “But that can wait.”  

They press their body flush against Villain’s, nailing them up against the chimney on top of the public library. “I’m not done with you just yet. I doubt I’ll ever be.” 

The claim earns a soft moan from Villain’s lips, but before they can process what that promise entails, Hero kisses them again.

Part 1

Masterlist

Tags: @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune

As promised :) I hope you like it!

[updownlately]

you don’t have to be sola (you don’t have to be here alone)

| alessia russo x reader

~~~

“For someone so eager to come to this party, you aren’t partying much, hmm?” Your eyes trace the striker's body, concerned at Alessia’s position, her sat on the floor, back against the wall.

“I just needed a minute y’know?”

You hum in agreement, leaning against the wall and sliding down to join her.

Wordlessly, you wrap your arm around the taller girl, the height difference unpleasant until she slides down further to comfortably rest her head on your shoulder.

“Wanna talk about it?” You murmur, quietly pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

Alessia takes a deep sigh, snuggling further into you before speaking. “Everything’s just moving too fast. It’s almost the end of the season, my contract’s ending, and I don’t know…it’s…” she trails off, mind drifting into worry that you could practically feel radiating off her in deep, powerful waves.

“It’s stressful?” You finish, already knowing the answer to your question. You feel the blonde nod, too caught up in her mind to verbally respond.

The two of you stay there a little while longer, letting the thumping of the music from a few doors down envelope the room, filling the space between you, both wrapped up in each other’s embrace. You knew that Alessia needed this. Between contract negotiations, the race for the WSL title and UWCL qualification, plus press for both United and England, the poor girl had been exhausted, tension clear on her face. These few minutes were probably the longest break she had in the past few weeks.

It's a short while later, however, that your peace is interrupted, none other than Alessia quietly speaking into the air in front of the two of you, her insecurities loud.

“You don’t have to be here you know? I don’t mean to drag you away from the party, especially not when I’m being such a downer...”

You hum in acknowledgement, knowing that you weren’t going to be leaving regardless of how anxious your girlfriend got.

Your lack of verbal response causes her to continue. 

“I mean it though. The girls must be missing you, I don’t want to keep you away from them. And I’m okay. I just needed some quiet but I’ll be okay, you can go…” she continues.

It’s then that you smile softly to yourself, pivoting ever so slightly to face Alessia.

Gently reaching out, you place a soft hand to her cheek, carefully turning her head to face you, waiting until her sky bright eyes meet yours.

“Less, my love, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Got you by my side and I’m good, I swear. Plus, you know you don’t have to be here alone right? Not when I’m around. It’s you and me pretty girl….us against the world.”

You place a tender kiss on her forehead, lips lingering just a hint longer than usual, hoping she’d get the message. 

“You mean it?” Alessia mumbles and you can hear the nervousness in her voice.

“Never meant anything more Less,” you whisper. “I don’t mind slowing down a bit, following your lead. Tell me what you want, I’ve got you. Wanna love you for as long and as good as I can baby.”

You can physically feel Alessia relax at your words this time, her shoulders deflating, the tension in her jaw dissipating for the first time in weeks.

“I love you.”

“I love you too pretty girl.”

And as Alessia settles down again, head this time resting blissfully on your shoulder, you close your eyes, basking in your little bubble of tranquility. The pair of you stay sat a while longer, with the other in your arms, content with not being alone. 

You knew from the start dating a footballer, much less a teammate, wasn’t going to be easy, but here in this moment, nothing felt easier. Nothing felt lighter. Finally at ease, you hoped your presence told Alessia everything your words couldn’t.

[ghostieeeee]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐: 𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐓

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Possible spelling errors? :D

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

The day had passed by fairly quickly, you spent your breaks cooped up in the library with your friends and Eunchae, and although classes were basically a death sentence, you managed to survive till this point at least. The last ten minutes of the day. But despite the reasonably short time, every minute seemed to drag on to become an excruciatingly tiring sixty seconds.

The classroom has become your penal institution, keeping you locked up for good as a consequence for your naivety and lack of knowledge. It felt restricting, but this was one of the limited classes you share with a friend- your dearest Kim Chaewon.

“I hate this” There she goes again, complaining about the class- she's only complaining because of her lack of understanding over the topic you're currently covering. “I don’t understand why we can’t just study this ourselves, Sir has almost sent me to sleep with this lesson multiple times!” she whisper-yells, avoiding all eye contact with the teacher himself as she jots down notes into her personal notebook.

“It’s school, Chae, most things about school are bound to get boring sooner or later” You feel yourself smile at her annoyed huff, shaking your head lightly out of habit. “There isn't that long left until you're home free”

“Huh? Where are you going after school?”

“My english partner invited me to a coffee shop so we can start our assignment together”

In the corner of your eye, you notice the sudden stop to her note-taking and the turn of her head to face you,”Wouldn’t you have started that in class with them?”

“We were planning a few things. We still need to research more and actually begin to type it out or whatever” you explain, ignoring the strange look Chaewon was giving you.

“Mmhmm… Who’s your partner this time?”

“Aren’t you nosey today?” You stifle a small laugh,”If you must know, I'm paired with Kang Haerin”

“As in the shy popular girl, Haerin?” Her voice was laced with an undertone of uncertainty and concern,”You know this could bring attention to yourself, right?”

“Yes, I'm very much aware, but at least she wants to do the project. I’d rather face minor attention than have to do a whole assignment again. Chae, I was extremely sleep deprived last time, I became almost erratic” You let out a gusty sigh,”It’ll be something quick. We agreed to get the project done as soon as possible, and that's that”

"I'm just looking out for you, you know how much I love you"

"I know, Chae, but I know what I'm doing"

You listen to her sigh. You're almost certain the only reason she hasn't pummelled you to the ground yet is because you're her friend. You have too much of a backstory together for her to just bury, quite literally and figuratively. Three years has certainly been a show in the making when it comes to you. "If this comes back to bite you in the ass I'm here for you"

"You always have been, and I appreciate it a lot. I appreciate you a lot…" You pause to glance at your friend, sharing a gracious smile with each other,"get back to your work"

"Yes ma'am," Chaewon nods, turning her attention back to her note-taking as her wrist goes into immediate overtime.

The next seven minutes dragged on by, making your every movement feel slugged as a result. Students were evidently done with the Monday hassle as most flickered between the clock on the wall and the clock on their phones. They were desperate to leave and confine within the comfort of their homes- preparing for either an early night's worth of sleep or none at all.

However, after what felt like three hours worth of agonsing torture, the same mellow ring of the school bell radiates the air, completely sending the class to carnage. Students hadn't even waited for the teacher to dismiss them. They hadn't even waited for him to finish his sentence before they were already out the door and very well down the hallway.

“Free phone?” Chaewon speaks up, nudging you slightly as she nods to the seat on your left. It was completely empty, the boy you sat next to had vanished,”I guess someone was in a rush”

“That doesn’t mean we should take it though. Who knows what's stored on that thing?” You speak with a slight disgust, putting your notebook into your bag.

“I suppose,” she grins, “but that won't stop me!”

“Hey, hey! That's not your phone to take!” You complain, trying to block her sight of the black cased device.

“I'm not going to keep it, you make it seem like i'm the villain” Chaewon rolls her eyes, her grin having transformed into a misleading frown.

You shake your head, walking past the forgotten possession,”maybe you are the villain, maybe you're not… who knows?”

“That's cruel”

“Maybe?” You stop outside your classroom, hand tightly gripping the material of your bag’s strap. “Time to socialise” you sigh, having already spotted the girl you're meeting with.

Has she told Minji?

“goodluck Y/n, you might need it”

“Thanks Chae” You're both quick to separate- with Chaewon taking off in a hurry to find Kazuha, and you staying to meet with Haerin.

It wasn't uncommon for Chaewon to scurry off to meet Kazuha, they are neighbours afterall, but you're still stuck in the state of wishing someone you know would join you to help ease your mind a little.

Friend or alone, you're still going either way.

“Are you ready?” Turning your head to the meek voice, you find Haerin already looking at you with her same stoic face. That sweet voice had almost no correlation to the way she presents herself outwardly.

“Yeah, i'm ready”

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

Pushing past the glass door, a fresh ambience of crushed coffee beans rade your nose. The warmth from the heaters attacked the chill you had brung in with you. The late October air stood no chance here. The exterior was cloistered and closed, so many tables and such little space, but you suppose that only added to the acquaint charm of the business.

Slightly trailing behind Haerin, you make your stop at the partly busy counter, where a female from your chem class stands, her hands occupied with retying her coffee stained apron. “Hello, welcome. What can I get for you today?”

It was Jiwoo- one of your sister's other friends- they are perfect friends in all honesty, them and another girl called Sullyoon. The three of them are almost always in other people's business for no clear reason. Like you said to Chaewon earlier, you were certain they were working against you with their weird spying techniques.

���Y/n?” You hum to Haerins call, eyes connecting with the barista's apron in front of you as your throat squeezes itself shut momentarily. “I’ll just get whatever Hearin ordered” You almost squealed out.

“Very well,” Jiwoo nods, placing your order through “That’ll be eleven-thousand won please”

“I’ll pay,” Haerin declares, having already pulled out her card and inputted the pin. You had no chance to even get a word in before she had already paid for the order.

“Thank you, we’ll bring your coffees over to you when they're ready”

“Thank you” You and Haerin surprise each other alongside yourselves with the sudden synchronisation to your words. While it was a generic response, and literally anyone could have done that, it was still surprising. Unbeknownst to you both, however, was that Jiwoo had judged this with narrow slitted eyes, her mind booting and reeling in any possibilities of your strange outing. Never has she ever seen you both talk- let alone in unison. As far as Jiwoo knows, this could even be a drug deal, and obviously, you're the sourcer.

Taking your seats at a round, plastic top, table- located somewhat close to the counter- you pull out your laptops, your hand also moving to unsheath the sheet from earlier. You kept the paper in case you ever needed to use her email again- fortunately, for now, you have not.

“What part do you want to follow up on?” Haerin questions, without looking away from her screen, her mouth left to hang slightly agape.

“That sounds creepy” you mumble, pondering over your options. However, your focus lifts at the sound of a small chuckle.

Was that Haerin?

Looking up only confirmed your suspicion. It really was Haerin. Her little chuckle was a first with you, and her widening smile only made her look all that much more like a cat. The corners of her eyes were pinched as she smoothed out her shirt.

“Not in that way. I don't think you’d be able to follow a printed sentence home”

Feeling yourself smile at her lighthearted attitude, even if it may only be temporary, you respond in the same demeanour “Doesn't it technically follow me home?”

“Because it’s in your bag?”

“Yeah” you observe the girl opposite you as her nose scrunches up.

“Maybe you have a stalker…” she almost whispers.

“Should I report it?”

“Maybe… I wouldn't want some random stalker if I were you”

“Two iced americanos?! A third voice intrudes, a voice you’ve heard so many times coming from your sister's room late at night when she's on facetime with her friends. Jiwoos' other partner in crime- Sullyoon. Of course they would both work together in the same establishment.

“Yes, that's us” Haerin responds as her smile retreats back into the shadows of her more introverted personality. “Thank you”

“Thank you” you repeat Haerins' words after Sullyoon places your own drink in front of you. “So… an iced americano, huh?”

Haerins face flushes a dusty red,”I know it’s not everyone's favourite, sorry if you don't like it”

“That's alright, I’ve never had this order before” you speak, holding the beverage between your fingers and palm as you evaluate it through the glass cup provided. You rarely ever hang around long enough to stay inside of a coffee shop, so having a glass container is certainly new to you.

“Oh… well, I promise it isn't as bad as the students at our school make it out to be”

“It’s okay, I trust you, i’ll try it in a minute." Haerin nods, shifting herself back on the purpose of your meeting- the english project.

“That’s good to know, since we’re doing a project together and what not”

“I suppose I have no other choice but to trust you”

“Possibly…” Haerin trails off, quickly glancing at you before she's completely immersed in her own world.

“I’ll start on the words of Shakespeare” You finally answer her question, earning a hum of approval from the brunette.

“Okay, i'll start on modern literature then”

Was it really a necessary idea to give a bunch of high schoolers a project based on the evolution of english literature and the culture surrounding it? Probably not. But are you going to try your best to get the best result possible? Absolutely… with a little help from your new partner, of course.

You just hope nothing bad comes from this…

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

: Dating in a high school full of love thirsty teenagers was never really something you wanted. But of course, things change- and you learnt that in more ways than one. Kim Minji, one of the more popular students. Hong y/n, probably the most invisible person alive. They couldn't possibly be dating… or maybe they could be? You never know what goes on behind closed doors.

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓

ᶜᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ✄-----------------------------------------

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: [𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍]

@jeindall777 @feisrants @thefckghost @everydayiloveyves @nasyu-kookies @justdelulumeh @feb14-kid

@ehcyps @imjeyjjey @winteresss @haechansbbg @urwyf3

@idkwhatim-doinghere101 @imahallucination11 @sserajeans @lesleepyyy @jennasluma @kaypanaq

@petruchiosstuff @pandafuriosa60 @haexrin07

[marshmallowsqoosh]

[Ghost (Band) | Learning Curve (Ficlet)]

Written for @ominouscrypt based on these two [ one / two ] pieces, transferring from twitter :3

Gerbil prompt was “ i have a question, tho: do you think the ghouls have scars from kissing? like, horns nicking each others’ foreheads, etc? “

So I did a short Swiss/Mountain thing cuz. Swiss/Mountain. (This is actually more than what was posted to Twitter cuz I was super sleepy/brain mushy that day, but it was cute and I was determined to do more)

Swiss/Mountain, background Aether/Sodo and brief Swiss/Rain

words. ~1.100 warnings. headcanon, fluffy, fluff without plot, swiss wants all the kisses from all his friends

♥

Most of their band mates exit the second Swiss comes in. He's not too terribly offended. Rain lets him get a quick kiss as he's leaving, even as he's determined to keep his face against the mug of tea, either trying to absorb the steam or just inhaling the soothing scents; but, all three Ghoulettes exit the living area before he can even say hello to them. Stratus tries to wave at him from where she's been put over Cumulus' shoulder. He hears Cirrus mumble something about him having terrible ideas, but he still doesn't pay it much mind. He figures most—if not all—of them are still recovering from drinking so late into the night.

Sodo almost definitely is, considering the only thing he does is raise his head long enough to look over the back of the couch; scowl; and promptly throw himself back down on the cushions and try to tuck into as tight of a ball as he can, even when Aether sleepily makes his way over with a large cup of… what smells suspiciously, and deliciously, like chicken broth and his own cup of coffee.

Before he can decide whether or not it's worth trying to steal a sip—and maybe see if there's still bones at the bottom of the mug—he sees Mountain drag in from the same way the Ghoulettes just left and completely forgets he has any intention of antagonising Sodo. He's about the only other Ghoul that doesn't look… too terrible from the drinking adventures. Or, maybe he just hadn't been drinking as much as the others, Swiss lost track of him pretty early in the night.

Still, he slides up to the drummer, purring as he presses into his personal space and carefully nuzzles up at his neck, mindful of his horns. "Mornin', Mounty~"

He's not surprised he only gets a sleepy pat on the head and easily steps out of the way so Mountain can rummage around for coffee. Despite still being… mostly still asleep, Mountain's dressed to go out. Still shuffling around without his shoes—Swiss prays he's building up enough static he can get Sodo shocked—but dressed in… oh.

"Mounty, did you, like… sleep in your clothes…?"

"Mnngh? Oh. Yeah, I got up to my room and just passed out. Sorry."

Swiss blinks at him, slowly; he glances back at Aether for input, only to find his attention completely on getting Sodo into a somewhat sociable mood. The smaller Ghoul is still tucked in on himself, but at least sitting up, legs pulled tight to his body, tail coiled around his legs, and occupying Aether's lap, while his attention is fixed intently on his mug of broth. Aether simply offers gentle skritches while he's trying to work tangles out of the long hair.

Not getting any help from either of them, he turns back to where Mountain's finally managed to pour himself coffee and is already look substantially better. Still mostly asleep but less dazed than he was a moment ago.

"Sorry for what?"

"Hmm? Oh, leaving early. I ducked out after like two drinks."

That definitely explains why he's looking better than most of the others did. But, Swiss just laughs and puts himself back in Mountain's personal space, tail swishing behind him in a content manner. "That's no reason to apologise. If you were tired, I'd rather you get some sleep, yeah? But if you did want to apologise…"

He's ridiculously pleased Mountain turns enough to give him a chaste, gentle kiss and a soft nuzzle that causes their horns to bump. Soft affection that Swiss insistently returns—a little bit more aggressively to show he still wants attention—until Mountain finally laughs and gives him a less chaste kiss. A kiss that lingers and Swiss sighs happily—between the gentle fragrance of nature that followed him around and the taste of coffee—and doesn't fuss when Mountain gives him one more nuzzle to say that's enough for the moment.

Doesn't fuss immediately—not until Mountain tries to pull away and Swiss realises his horn got hooked in his hair.

Swiss manages to catch Mountain's jacket before he stands up all the way, standing on his tiptoes with the slightest wince and nervous laugh, "Hang on, Mounty—lean back down."

He waves off the hasty apology with a relieved sigh as he's able to stand with both feet flat to the ground again and carefully reaches up to swat Mountain's hands away, "I got it, just hold still a minute..."

Eventually they'll learn. Even if kisses didn't end in the tiny pricks and nicks and clashing of horns, the nuzzling almost always ensured someone was getting stuck. Usually Mountain catching his horn in Swiss' hair. Especially when it was pulled back.

But, easy enough to work free and Mountain catches him with an arm around his waist before he stumbles backwards, even as Swiss simply laughs, "See? No harm done!"

"Sorry..."

"Mmmm... gimme one kiss and we'll call it even—"

"For Lucifer's sake, will you two go back to one of your rooms, we all know you're just doing this to get naked, Swiss!"

Swiss immediately throws a scowl towards the couch. Sodo's still on Aether's lap, but returns the look with a narrowed glare. Mountain's turning a few pretty shades darker from the sudden flush to his skin, as Aether nearly chokes on his drink, coughing and quickly setting the coffee aside before he spills it on himself or the Fire Ghoul.

"Sodo!"

"What, it's true."

Swiss hums and shrugs, "I mean he isn't wrong... soooo... my room—aw." He's not surprised Mountain quickly exits the room the same way he came in. "Damnit, Sodo... why'd you have to remind him you guys were here?""

He doesn't get an answer. Aether gets one hand over Sodo's mouth—ignores he's getting bitten after the initial wince—and simply carries Sodo out the opposite door before the two can dissolve into bickering. Swiss sighs and turns his attention to following Mountain and trying to figure out how to get this to work in his favour.

He doesn't have to go too far. Mountain's hanging a little bit down the corridor, still a pretty shade of flustered and Swiss' immediate desire is to tease him more for a darker flush. But, he pushes the urge down and just leans on the wall, probably an arm's length away, and just clears his throat a little bit.

"Sorry." It doesn't get an immediate response. Swiss almost assumes he should leave—he starts to, even… but gets stopped by Mountain's tail twining with his and giving him a gentle pull back.

There's another stretch of silence. Swiss isn't really used to not knowing what to say; but, Mountain fills in for him before he can think of anything.

"... One more kiss and we'll call it even?"

It's the only permission he needs. Their tails are still twined together when Swiss presses up against him, arms loose around Mountain's waist.

A sweeter kiss. Floral and light. Worth the small bit of embarrassment.

[formeandmyfics]

AGAIN

JUGENEA SNIPPET

While on location in Palm Springs filming ‘Girl, Crazy’ , Gene and Judy make a decision 

Palm Springs

May 1943

Gene took off his baseball cap and wiped sweat off his forehead, his eyes squinting from the bright sun.

"Jesus, Johnson, it's hotter than Satan out here."

"Eghhh, quit your bitchin'," Van replied before hitting his golf ball off the tee with a hard, sharp swing.  

"When I let you drag me out here, I didn't know it'd be a 120-fucking-degrees.”

"It's almost summer, in the middle of the desert, what the hell did ya expect?”

“When I came out here, I didn’t think I’d be on a golf course roasting like a Christmas ham.”

"What did you come to Palm Springs for anyways,” Johnson asked as they got back into the golf cart.

"To get away from the bullshit and lay by the pool and study my scripts in peace."

"You know, you're worse than Evie," Van said as he drove the cart down the hill to the turf.

"Look, bud, I’m glad I ran into you, but I came to relax. This is not relaxing to me. You get what I'm sayin'?"

"Loud and clear. But listen, you can relax tonight with some cold ones at Rooney's get together."

"What get together?"

"Mick's here filming and he's having a little get pow wow tonight at his cottage."

Gene's curiosity peaked, "What film?"

"Ah, that 'Girl, Crazy' one, the one he's doing with Judy. She's here, too."

Gene tried to hide his surprise. He had heard that they had gone on location to film but didn't know it would be here. Even though he had only seen her a few weeks ago, suddenly the sound of her name, and knowing she was here, gave him a kind-of anxious flutter in his stomach.  

He had seen her around the studio, and nightclubs, but they hadn't spoken much, at least nothing concrete since they ended their tryst back in January. When they decided to call it quits, Judy had suffered physical exhaustion and taken time off from filming. Also, at this time, she and her husband were on the brink of calling it quits. He, on the other hand, was gaining more responsibilities at the studio now and had a new baby. Their lives suddenly became polar opposites. They both mutually decided to keep their friendship, but end their physical relationship, which had started during pre-production of 'My Gal'.  

"Finish the rest of the holes with me, then you can go hop in the pool, and then I'll pick ya up at your hotel tonight around 8 and we can chill at Rooney's. What do you say?"

"I guess I have no choice," he sarcastically groaned before smiling.

"That'a boy," Van smiled back with a pat on the back.

Judy plopped down into her director’s chair, an umbrella over her head, and watched with irritation as all the camera men set up for a new angle. They were rehearsing their ‘Could You Use Me’ number. The scene was going so well, she was sure they could start filming it now, but then Norm wanted to try it with a different direction.  

Sighing, Judy grabbed her heavy, Chinese fan and started fanning herself with gusto. Nothing was helping the heat.  

“Any faster with that fan, there, honey, and you’ll be able to start a fire,” Mickey said walking up next to her.

“I feel like I’m sitting in one. I swear they’re gonna send me back to Metro looking like burnt chicken.”

“Juicy on the inside though,” he teased with raised eyebrows.

When Judy just gave him a raised eyebrow as she stopped fanning herself to take a drink of water, he whistled with his eyes wide. Usually, she responded gleefully to cheeky comments like that.

“You know, for as hot as it is, boy you’re blowing cold.”

“I’m sorry, Mick, I’m just not in a good mood. I love Norm but now is not the time to try improve camera angles.”

“Would you rather Buzz be here?”

Judy nodded, as ‘Uncle Buzz’ had worked them so hard she had collapsed on set during beginning of filming, “You have a point.”

“Yeah, by this time we’d both be dead.”

“At least you’re wearing shorts,” Mickey exclaimed looking down at his long pants.

“At least you’re shirtless,” she teased back as he was indeed topless.

“You can be, too,” he teased back.

“Stop it,” she giggled.

“There’s a big fan up by the camera wagon. Go stand over there for a little, darlin.”

“I suppose. It’s better than this shade, anyways.”

“I’m going to get lemonade. Do you want anything?”

“No, I’m ok. Thank you.”

As Judy walked away, Mickey walked down a way to the refreshment tent. The lady working there poured him a glass of lemonade topped with ice.  

Gene leaned towards Mickey from behind and said in his best John Wayne accent, “What, no vodka in that, partner?”

Mickey turned to see Gene standing there, “Say, what on earth are you doing here, old boy?”

The two gleefully shook hands.

“I just came to town for a few days to relax, you know, away from ‘star life’,” Gene teased with his hands.

“After how successful you’ve been so far, there’s going to be way more of that for you.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“It’s lucky they let you have time off. That’s rare.”

“I just finished post-production for ‘DuBarry’. I’m back to work Monday.”

“Nice four-day weekend. Is the Mrs. With you?”

“Her mother is in town to see the baby. I’m letting them have their girl time.”

“Good for you.”

“I had no idea you guys were filming here. Van told me earlier.”

“Yeah. And they couldn’t do it in San Diego or Pasadena, could they? They had to pick the desert.”  

“Hot. I can’t imagine what it’s like filming in this. I was out playing golf this morning and I was complaining so much Johnson called me a chick.”

Mick laughed, “Should’ve called you Judy. That’s all she’s been doing so far.”

“Oh, the starlet's in a bad mood?”

“I’ll say, but maybe you being here will cheer her up some.”

“I’m no better in a good mood than she is, so we’ll see.”

“She certainly laughs more with you than she does with me lately. I think I’m getting a little rusty. I’ll go get her. Find a seat.”

“Aye, Yi, Captain.”

Judy put her hand up over her eyes, squinting to see the other camera’s process, as she stood by the large camera wagon with the fan blowing on her.

“How much longer,” she asked one of the stagehands standing behind her.

“They’re nearly finished, Miss Garland.”

“How we doing over here,” Mickey asked walking up next to her.

“Still hot.”

“Still grumpy?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, maybe I know something that will get you un-grumpy,” he said in a baby voice while taking her chin in his hand as if patronizing her.

“An air-conditioned cabin,” she playfully remarked with a smile.

“No, but we have a surprise visitor.”

“Who,” she asked looking around.

“Gene Kelly,” Mickey quipped happily and pointed to where Gene now sat in Judy’s director chair under the umbrella across the way.

Her mouth opened a tad looking completely shell shocked as she placed her hand on the bar next to her and the other on her hip. She then mumbled to herself, “How on earth did he find us here?”

Suddenly, the two turned their attention to the set when the cameramen all made some loud commotion.

Mickey placed his hands on his hips, “Looks like we’re starting soon, babe. Why don’t you go say hi and then let's put on a great rehearsal performance for him.”

Gene readjusted the umbrella to his liking when he noticed a shadow walk up next to him. Before he could respond, or see who it was, the umbrella was lifted a bit as Judy peeked underneath.

“That’s my chair.”

Hearing her voice, Gene immediately smiled and sat back comfortably, showing her he had no intention of getting up.

“It’s quite comfortable.”

“Mm hm. May I sit, please,” she said sweetly.

Gene tapped his upper legs but she giggled and swatted her hand. He chuckled and stood up so she could sit.

“Mickey tells me you’re in quite a mood.”

“Mickey tells me that you’ll make me un-grumpy,” she replied impishly.

“Judy!”

Judy turned to see Norm waving her over. She had so many questions for Gene rolling through her mind, but she knew she didn’t have time to talk to him.

“I’m sorry, but we’re about to rehearse a number.”

“It’s alright. Heard you were in town and wanted to stop by the set.”

“Judy, sweetheart,” Norm’s voice yelled more insistent.

She gave him a ‘1 minute’ finger gesture before turning back to Gene, “Will you stay and watch?”

“I would love to. Would you like me to?”

Judy smiled and nodded, “I would like that very much.”

“Fun scene at least?”

“It’s very fun, just too many changes. I’ll see ya in a bit,” she said before she turned to walk to where the car prop was with Mickey already sitting inside of it.

Judy and Mickey rehearsed their ‘Could You Use Me’ number and both gave it their all. In fact, Judy felt positively giddy knowing Gene was watching. She knew she wasn’t showing off, she just genuinely felt good knowing he was there. It had been a while. After getting through a few rehearsals, the set took a break so they could get in costume and film. Judy noticed Gene waving her down to get her attention. When he did, he pointed behind him and waved goodbye. Judy was so flabbergasted about him leaving like that she just held her arms out as if saying ‘what the heck’ but he ignored it and left the area, disappearing behind rows of trucks and trailers.

B.J. Baker was laughing as she walked over to the mini bar where Judy sat on one of the stools. She was nursing her apricot sour as she stared out the window looking a tad bored.

“What’s the matter, doll,” B.J. asked as she grabbed the vodka bottle to make another cocktail.

“Nothing,” Judy said sounding chipper as she turned to face her, putting on a happy smile.

“Could have fooled me,” B.J. said glancing up at her with a mischievous smile.

“She’s upset with Gene,” Mickey said stepping in between the girls.

“Gene who?”

“Kelly.”

“Gene Ke--” B.J. looked a little surprised, “Aren’t you two friends? He’s such a sweetie pie.”

“A sweetie pie, huh,” Judy asked as she took a sip of her drink practically rolling her eyes.

“She’s been like that all day,” Mick said leaning into his future wife.

“Why are you angry with him?”

“I’m not angry,” Judy stated in defense.

Mickey let out a smiled snort, but when he caught Judy’s evil ‘sister-like’ glare, his smile immediately dropped, “Sorry.”

B.J. smiled and gave Mickey a quick peck on the lips, “Don’t tease her. She’s having a bad day.”

“Hey, toots,” Mickey said draping his arm over Judy’s shoulders, “At least you’re in air conditioning now.”

“This is true.”

B.J. took a sip of her fresh vodka tonic turning to look back at the small gathering and her eyes widened a little before she turned back towards Judy, “So, does Gene know you’re mad at him?”

“I’m not mad at him,” Judy repeated, “And...even if I were, he’d have to stay around long enough for me to tell him, wouldn’t he?”

“Well, now’s your chance, baby.”

Hearing a little commotion from the front door, all three looked and saw Gene walk in with Van Johnson.

Judy immediately flicked the back of her hand on Mickey’s arm, “Did you invite him?”

“No, I didn’t know he was coming. But, good, more the merrier.”

“Let’s go say hi,” B.J. said grabbing Mickey’s hand.

“You two better go do that before he disappears. Lately, it seems like he comes and goes like Houdini.”  

Judy grabbed her drink and headed for the sliding door to the pool area.

“No air conditioning out there,” Mickey teased after her.

When the sliding door shut, BJ fanned herself, “Oo, I’ve never seen her like this before.”

“Well, life’s got in the way of their friendship. She told me not long ago that she missed him.  Then today he just randomly showed up on our set, but then when we were working, he just left without a word.”

“I wonder what happened.”

“He left her grumpier than she was before he got there,” Mickey said as they walked up towards the boys.

After small talk with some people and grabbing a beer, Gene was starting to get nervous, and felt extremely disappointed when he hadn’t seen Judy around. He hadn’t even heard her laugh which you could hear distinctively from another room.  

Gene walked around a bit again, in case he missed her, and walked into the back kitchen. There Mickey and B.J. were grabbing some snacks.  

“Mick.”

“Yeah?”

“Say, is Judy here?”

Mickey and B.J. both shared a sly glance which Gene noticed.

“Yeah, she’s around here somewhere.”

“Oh, good. I want to talk to her.”

“About your Houdini act?”

“My what?”

“That’s what she’s calling it,” B.J. giggled.

“Judy’s calling you Houdini...you know, popping up out of nowhere then disappearing.”

Gene closed his eyes and sighed, “Which means she’s pissed.”

“She specifically told us she is not angry,” she said confidently.

Mickey bit a piece of his carrot, “She’s pissed.”

B.J. playfully hit Mickey’s chest.

“Great,” Gene said his arms falling to his sides, “Where is she?”

“She might still be out by the pool.”  

“Take this door and the porch wraps around to the back by the pool, honey,” B.J. motioned with her hand.

“Thanks.”

Gene stopped abruptly when he turned the corner of the porch. The view took him back a moment. Judy was sitting down on the edge of the in-ground pool, her back to him, and she had her legs in the lit-up water. The full moon bounced off her strawberry blonde hair and the muggy air made it look as if she had an aura-type glow around her. The scenic view in front of them were mountains and houses on the hills lit up like stars all around.  

“You’ve sure created a habit of showing up to places unexpectedly.”  

Gene made a face, not knowing how in the hell she knew he was standing back there, when she hadn’t turned around.

“You mean in Palm Springs, on set earlier, or here at this party?”

She turned to look at him, lurking in the shadow of the porch, “Pick.”

He smiled and walked over to her.

“I’m beginning to think you’re following me,” she teased but her tone was anything but playful.

“I wish I could say that’s true, sweetheart, but I didn’t know you were out here filming,” he said taking a seat on one of the cushioned lounge chairs.

“Did you know I’d be here at this party?”

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Judy couldn’t help but smile at that truth as she pushed herself up off the ground, “May I sit?”

“Are you going to bite my head off if you do?”

“Why would I bite your head off,” she motioned for the towel that was on the arm rest next to him.  

He went to hand it to her but withdrew on second thought, “Because you’re angry with me.”

“Oh, nonsense,” she said sitting down on the side of the chair, “Why would I be angry with you?”

Gene lifted one of her bare legs, in her cute, little white shorts, and started drying them off gently, “My so-called Houdini act.”

When he didn’t hear a response, he looked up at her with a cautious eyebrow. She let him dry the second leg off, but she looked irritated, “Well, you didn’t have to come and go like that. We barely said two words.”

“You were working, baby,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice.

“You could have stayed, *darling*,” she emphasized and took her now dry leg away from his hand.

“I was planning on it, but I remembered I had a conference call with the Freed unit. I barely made it back in time. I knew I was going to see you later tonight, so I didn’t think anything of it. I waved goodbye.”

“But I didn’t know you were coming tonight. That’s not fair.”

“Why are you being so defensive? I came and watched you work and we’re here together now. What is the problem,” he said getting a little impatient.

Judy looked at his eyes back and forth before her shoulders relaxed and she looked away from him, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Judy,” he took her chin to have her look at him gently.

She bounced her leg a little, in an anxious manner, while staring at him almost like getting up the courage.

“I just missed you, you know,” she said in a whisper.

“I missed you, too,” he softly said back and reached forward to kiss her on the cheek.

“You know how things have been for me and when you showed up out of nowhere, I felt...just better. And then you left so quickly. It just upset me. I’m sorry.”

“No, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would affect you like that.”

Judy sighed and smiled, “You’re here now.”

“I’m right here,” he reiterated.

They both smiled, but his wide smile, with his prominent crow’s feet and tan skin glowing in the moonlight, made her nearly blush. With him, she never concealed that.

“Golly, you’re so handsome, you know that?”

“I’m surprised you think so,” he said looking at his arm.

She looked at him shocked, “What? Why would you say that?”

“No, I don’t mean that,” he quickly retracted, in reference to them being lovers so she obviously was attracted to him, “I meant, looking like a lobster.”  

“A what,” she giggled.

“Van had me out golfing with him today. I thought I was gonna get sun poisoning.”’

“You don’t look like you’ve got sunburn,” she said pressing her fingertips against the skin of his forearm.

“No, but you’ve got a little color to your cheeks,” he said rubbing a knuckle over the rosy skin.

“That’s not from the sun, pal,” she said this time plenty of playful in her voice.

“Ohhh, she flirts,” he said amused and pulled her arm to him.

Still on the same lounge chair, he let her lay back against his chest, and they cuddled comfortably.  

“What are you doing in Palm Springs?”

“Relaxing.”

“You’re doing an awful lot of that now.”

“Mm, hm. I had a break from work and wanted to get away by myself, but not too far away. I was really surprised to find out you guys were here.”  

“To get away from Los Angeles and then you run into a movie set and a bunch of co-workers.”

“Exactly,” he chucked, “But it was a nice surprise. I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately.”

“You have?”

“Worried, actually, you know, with what you’ve been through the past few months with work and...Dave...”

“I’m alright.”

“Are you really?”

“Buzz is no longer on this film, and I’ve moved into my own place. I’m feeling better.”

“Good,” he said, and she noticed his hold got a little tighter, more protective-like, “How’s it like living on your own?”

“It’s an adjustment, but it’s not entirely different than where I was with my husband gone touring all the time.”  

“There were always people in and out there, though.”

“Yes. I’m way up in the hills now. No one comes by unless I invite them. Well, of course there’s mother, who shows up whenever she wants.”

“A visit from her is better than having to live with her.”

“Oh, golly, yes. Maybe you can come see my place sometime. It’s really a beautiful, little house up there.”

“I’m one of your invites, huh?”

There was a pause for a moment, then Gene felt her nails circle the hair on his arm, “You’re always invited.”

Suddenly the air felt thicker.

Gene was disappointed that she wasn’t facing him because he had the strongest urge to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her until she whimpered, a sound he missed. It was one of the guilty pleasures that went through his head from time-to-time. On the other hand, he was relieved that she wasn’t facing him because he knew that kissing her was wrong.  

Wasn’t it?  

He had agreed to their ‘platonic’ friendship after all. He had his marriage to get back on track. Of course, kissing her wasn’t anything new. Maybe he could simmer down his urge by kissing her a little bit. Oh, who was he kidding. Kissing would most definitely lead to other things. And she was single now. Would she want more from him than just sex? He knew she must be vulnerable. He didn’t want to lead her on. He wasn’t in denial of his feelings for her, but he couldn’t give her more than what they had shared before: a meaningful friendship and fun sex. God, he missed that.

Gene sighed audibly. He still loved his wife and he had a kid now. He didn’t want to jump into hot water with Betsy or down the very deep rabbit hole with Miss Garland.  

“What are you thinking about?”

Gene flinched slightly as Judy’s voice brought him out of his head. He didn’t even realize that she had sat up out of his arms and was looking at him now.

Gene scratched his cheek, which didn’t itch, as a distraction, to look away from her big, searching eyes, “Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

Her voice told him that she knew exactly what stuff he was thinking about but wanted him to say it.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he said sitting up, swinging his legs over the side of the lounge chair.

“But if you were thinking about me, I think I have the right to worry about it.”

He looked at her, the vein in his temple flexing from his jaw working overtime. She could see that he had a lot to say but was almost afraid to.

“Am I right,” she insisted softly with an innocent voice, yet her eyes were seductive, “Were you thinking about me?”

He ignored her question as he stood up and reached into his pocket for his carton of cigarettes.

“Hm,” she asked standing up with him.

Gene placed one between his lips, “I’m always thinking about you, Judy,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You’re changing the subject.”

“Do you have a light,” he asked.

“I don’t. Are you going to answer me?”

Gene took the cigarette out of his mouth and his voice got a little irritible, “What do you want me to say, Judy?”

“Gene, Judy baby!”

The pair both looked towards the corner of the balcony and saw Mick standing there in the dark, “Come inside. Bob’s made us all shots.”

“No, Mickey, I can't,” Judy said with her hand on her tummy shaking her head.

“Just one,” he insisted, “It’s that SoCo shooter. Just one, come on,” he repeated before disappearing back around the corner.

“Just one,” Judy said rolling her eyes.

Gene smiled and urged her to go ahead.

The two went through the balcony doors into the house and stepped up to the mini bar where everyone was crowded around passing the shots around.

“Here ya go, honey,” Van said noticing them and handed Judy one then one to Gene, “Gene.”

“Thanks,” he said, and he did a double take as he smelled it, “What is this?”

“Amaretto and Southern Comfort,” she replied.

“Alright, folks,” Bob said over the chatter which immediately died down, “Raise your shots! Here’s to...lots of wealth and good health, lots of checks and good sex!”

They all cheered and took the shot. Gene’s eyes had met Judy’s at the last statement. He didn’t meant to, but like a magnet, their eyes just met. Hers burned through his and her little smirk spoke a thousand words. Without his eyes leaving hers, he took the shot. Nonchalantly, and a little naughty, she poured the content of the shot into the potted plant behind her.  

“It’s not nice to waste good liquor,” he said quietly towards her.

“It’s also not nice to work the next day with a hangover,” she said taking his empty shot glass from him and placing it on the bar.

“Touche.”

“Darling,” she said sliding his arm through his as they started walking across the room in their own little world.

“Darling,” he mimicked.

“Do you ever think we’ll work together again?”

“I do.”

“Really?”

“I certainly hope so. You’re one of the most talented people I ever met. Plus, working with you on screen is easy.”

“That’s chemistry.”

“And timing.”

“And trust.”

“Respect.”

“Patience.”

“Fun.”

She let go of his arm as they found themselves in an empty den just off the living room where everyone was still gathered.

“It’s rare to have all of those things not just on screen, but off screen as well.”

“Yes,” he simply said and watched as she looked around the small den and noticed a door in the corner.

“The cabin I’m in is identical, but it doesn’t have a door like this,” she said and walked through the sliding door which led to what looked like a secret, little hallway leading to an outside door.

Gene followed her and shut the door behind them. It was dark except for light coming from the porch.  

“Do you think we still have all those things?”

She leaned against the wall and he leaned back on the opposite wall, his hands in his pockets.

“You know I do.”

Just the sounds of the crickets were heard outside as they fell silent. He could see the side of her face illuminated as she looked away from him. Even in the dark, she looked beautiful.

“Isn’t it funny that we both ended up here in Palm Springs?”

“Coincidence.”

“I don’t really like that word.”

“Serendipity,” he corrected.

“Will you tell me what you were thinking earlier?”

“Judy.”

“Please. I want to know.”

“Why do you want to know so badly?”

“Why is it bothering you so badly?”

“Because if I say it out loud, then it’s not just in my head. It becomes reality and I’ll have to follow through with it and I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re going through a divorce and physically recovering, and I don’t want to get you all mixed up.”

“Mixed up how?”

“Mixed up with how we feel about each other and what you might expect from me and what I cannot give you.”

Judy kind of smiled, “Will you let me decide that, please?” Her voice was so calm and determined, he immediately relaxed. “What do you think I expect that you can’t give me?”

“A real relationship. I know you want a happy marriage and a family and security. You deserve all that, but I can’t give that to you.”

Judy immediately stepped up to him and hugged him around the waist, placing her cheek on his chest, “I love you, you know that.”

“I love you, too, kiddo,” he said back and kissed the top of her head.

“I love how much you want to protect me,” she lifted her head to look up at him, “And you’re right, I do want all that, but I would never ask you to leave your family.”  

“What *are* you asking,” he said, sweeping some hair behind her ear.

“I’m asking you to tell me what you were thinking about earlier.”

He smiled, “I was thinking about kissing you and what that might lead to and what that would mean.”

“Well,” she said backing off of him and leaning back on her opposite side of the wall, “It would mean that we were just two friends who were already comfortable together in that way, with no strings attached, who would have a good time doing things we both miss and still think about.”

Gene felt himself start to get aroused knowing they were going to do exactly what he had thought about. His stare at her was alluring and sexy, his eyes reflecting off the light from the porch. It made Judy have butterflies in her tummy...good ones...very good ones.

“Would you like to kiss me now?”

Her voice was innocent, but her expression mirrored his. He found it beautifully amusing.

Gene took a step towards her, “I’d like to do a lot more than just kiss you.”

Still, he hesitated. Judy reached forward and grabbed his shirt gently bringing him up against her. Gene exhaled through his nose as he lifted his hand flat against the wall above her head, staring down at her.  

“Please,” she whispered, sliding one hand to the back of his neck while the other slid around his waist.

Gene leaned forward and barely kissed her before whispering, “We’re doing this again, aren’t we?”

Judy gave a nod before his mouth fully closed in on hers.

[ryanleonitus]

It feels like I’m shedding a layer every time I think back on past relationships.

First marriage: Fake News. And I think what I learned most about this was how easily someone can do you dirty and make it your fault. She was cheating on me with multiple dudes before we even got married. Once I found out, she flipped the narrative. Cried in my face but the whole time she was planning how all of it would be my fault to her friends and family. She knew I wouldn’t air her out. Not even in therapy together. Til now, I never really spoke on it. Truth be told I was embarrassed to even say it. Her mom died not long after I left. I always felt a bit of tension from her mom. But the most telling thing was she knew her daughter and she knew we should have never been married. Her disdain wasn’t for me, it was for what she knew: Her daughter went looking for love and attention from anyone that was willing to give it because she (mom) withdrew all of that after taking care of a man she didn’t love until he died.

I left everything I owned except a few totes full of clothes. Still paying off debts from a lucrative business that she "runs." Don't care. It's over.

The Relationship After: I brought baggage because at this point I’d never experienced any relationship without deceit. I talked about this right up front because one thing about me, I’m going to be blunt about my shit if I feel like it’s going there. I know this risks me being set up for manipulation but I’d rather be honest than drag out the inevitable. And guess what happened? Me being transparent lead to a “therapist” trying to frame their every misstep into my doing. It worked for a short time because I fought to keep something I now realize I didn’t even want. And you know how they say hindsight be. I raked through every lie and act of deceit and I could kick my damn self for not leaving when I said it the first time.

Don’t get me wrong, everyone has their shit but I’m realizing a pattern with myself that needs to be addressed. I’m over therapized and I think sometimes I let my boundaries up too damn much for the sake of humanity or being “too hard on people.” But boundaries are there for a reason and most of mine are because of how self-aware I am. I can’t front on people for leaving their boundaries intact.

Though trauma bred hyper vigilance, it can also be viewed as a superpower once you can discern what’s chemically fucking you versus seeing through some shit and knowing you’re spot on. I don’t deny myself that privilege anymore.

Current Marriage: Well…in the words of Omar from The Wire - "A man gotsta have a code."

[cpanther]

The last call had been to his son. “You what?” The twelve year old asked shocked to hear the strain in his fathers voice.

“I left your mother. Don’t bother going back to the house.” He’d sighed leaning back in the small booth he’d picked to eat his fast food at. “I’m filing.” he added though his son might not really care.

“And what about me?”

Kalor smiled. His son was the only good thing to come out of that union. “Already have it in the papers that I want custody of you. Unless you’d rather stay there.”

% snorted. “You mean with Mom? Fuck no.”

“Watch you’re language.” Kalor corrected. He’d love to blame * for the boys mouth but he was as much to blame.

“Fine, pretend I said hell no.” % retorted a hint of a smirk in his voice.

Unlike * Kalor let some things slide. * would have punished him for his language demanded that he change his tone, even refuse him food if he didn’t grovel promising never to slip again. Then she’d turn on Kalor barking that it was his fault that their son knew that sort of fucking language. Kalor on the other hand only asked that he not use it, or at least pretend he didn’t use it. “Didn’t think you’d want to.”

% sighed. “And I can’t come with you?”

“No.” He glanced out the window as his meal was placed before him. “I’m already out of town if I came back for you she’d call kidnapping.”

“Bi…ah I mean brat.”

Kalor smiled. “I agree.” Lifting his burger he took a healthy bite moanign at the flavor. “been ages since I ate.”

% sighed. “So what’s the plan Dad?”

“I’m heading to my parents. Lawyer is already been contacted. I took care of that last night. He knows where you are. Can you have them call me, see what we can arrange to keep you safe?”

“Sure. Or I could just hand them my phone. Their up.”

* hadn’t bothered to learn any of his friends. Hadn’t cared what he did as long as his room was neat and he wasn’t under foot. When % had been small she’d been far more attentive, but then when he started walking well that changed everything. “Sure.”

He grabbed a couple of fries eating them quickly before the soft voice of the woman of the home filed his ear. “Kalor, what can I do for you?” Filling her in took next to no time. “Oh good. I was hoping you’d leave her. Of course he can stay here until you have a place. You do –?”

“Yeah. He’s coming with me as soon as I’m sure she can’t touch him.” In ther words it might have to wait until the divorce was finalized.

“Of I’d say hurry but… I know these things take time.”

Kalor nodded. “More than I’d like.” He added. “Thanks.” A moment later he heard his sons voice. “You heard all that?” % confirmed he had. “Good then you have a rough idea of the plan.”

Another confirmation. “Dad? Any idea how fast?”

“I wish. We’ll move as fast as we can but don’t count on it being this year. She’ll drag this out as logn as she can.” And even if the lawyer could prove she was an unfit mother * would do anything in her power to prevent Kalor from getting him.

“Right. Another year or two.” %sighed. “She does realize that I can run away right?”

The snow elf doubted it. “If she could see past her own nose maybe. I need to get going. I’ll call you later. Love you.”

In a soft voice % responded in snow elf. “You too.” % could speak both dark and snow elf perfectly as well as the more common language everyone used. Kalor had insisted that he learn snow elf. When * realized he could that she’d taken the time to teach him dark elf if only to ensure that his father didn’t have the upper hand.

A short exert of a completed work I hope you enjoy

[crazybigredlove]

10th November 2013

Dear Pete, 

Coffee. Because Saturday coffee is only beaten by one thing: Sunday coffee. 

Holly and I met at that cute little cafe down the river - the one your mother loves and that you and I like to make fun of. All those people whose lives are shinier than ours like to meet there to discuss how fabulous they all are. They pull-up in their expensive cars; they walk like the world is their oyster; tossing immaculately groomed hair and laughing loudly because society never views them as an inconvenience. Life works out for those people. Made a concerted effort to blend in and it paid off because Holly greeted me rather enthusiastically. 

"Liv! You look amazing! Look at you with your hair all done!" Nearby latte drinkers looked amused; likely noticing that I was still a touch below their standard and probably garnering from Holly's excitement that my sub-par aesthetic was actually an improvement. 

"Well, no need to fuss. Shall we sit down?" As we sat it was hard not to admire the view. It was even harder to ignore the overly animated way in which Holly was enquiring about my love-life. Or lack thereof. "So who is the latest guy?" "Holly..." My eyes rolled so far back that for a second I wondered if they would get stuck there, or worse do a full lap. Wait, is that possible? "Oh you know I don't mean anything by it, but you're husband- ready and I want you to find someone." 

"Well, there was someone for half a second, but it seems he's happy to leave it at friendship and honestly, so am I." It felt good to admit it. "What? Who? Spill!" Leaning in so close parts of our body were almost touching, it was the first chance I'd had to really talk to Holly in months so with excruciating attention to detail I relayed every second of the history I'd shared with Big Red, Will, and Dylan. For the most part she stayed silent and let me speak. As you can imagine, it should've been a short tale but I managed to drag it out for close to an hour. "So what's his deal?" She said as my account of our interactions drew to a close. "Which one?" "The Czech. Forget Big Red. Whether you like him or whether he likes you is completely irrelevant. He has a girlfriend. You don't want a man that would do that to his girlfriend. You want a man who knows what he wants. That isn't Big Red. He's a mess. Leave him. They'll fall apart soon enough and then hopefully he'll sort himself. Then once he has his act together you can decide whether or not he would be worth the stress and heartache. Tell me about Will though. What's his game?" "I guess he wants to be friends. With benefits," I hurriedly add. "But only friends." "It's still early days." "It's been two years." "It's early days for you realising you like him." "He hasn't called." "You keep telling him not to." "Still..." Holly softened. "Liv, give the man a chance. Tell him how you feel. Find out if he does feel the same or not. He hung in there for a long while." "Holly." The empathy in her eyes was too much and I found myself blinking back tears. "Don't give me that look." "Can I give you some advice? Liv, you don't need the uncertainty crap. You need a man who is ready to commit. You surround yourself with all these guys who only want friendship or who don't know what they want. I mean, I love Christopher, you know that, but even he was trouble till you set some ground rules. How are you supposed to know what it looks like when someone comes along who wants the real thing when you have so many people doing it by halves or faking it? Maybe Will only wants friendship, and maybe that's because he's not looking for more, or maybe it's because all anyone knows about you is that you're the girl with all the guy friends. When we worked together your phone would go off constantly with all these men ringing who weren't yours. You let yourself be everyone’s girlfriend and no ones commitment. Where did that get you? You ended up alone. You deserve more. You need to demand more." 

The words hung as their full weight rested on us. All those guy friends... 

"I know. Big Red is done though and at the moment there is really only two guy friends. Christopher and Dylan. I'm happy with friendship from both of them. With Will... I don't even know what I want there. I like him, but I don't know what that means. That's the only thing I know beyond a doubt." 

"That's okay," she said, reaching out and patting my hand. "It's okay to be at a different point in time to someone so long as you aren't making excuses for them, or trying desperately to hang onto something that isn't there, or drag them to where you are." "But I'm always at the wrong point in time." This was where I struggled to contain it and I hadn't even known that it was building inside me. 

All those months of back-to-back disappointments had piled up and now it felt there was no more room inside me to contain it. The sadness wanted to explode out from within me and spill itself all over the table; coating it black and thick like tar it would cover it in a hot, sticky mess. 

Ruining Holly's dress and staining the furniture wasn't he most productive way to cheer myself up though, so it seemed best to compress it and push it down like all feelings that needed to remain hidden. 

"It doesn't matter. There will be another one, right?" I faked a smile. "Liv, don't get disheartened. You know what will happen once you find him? You won't have as much time for things like this. 

For travel, for you time, and for making the most of every second because your priorities will change and coffee dates will move down the list to somewhere below attending swimming carnivals and sports days." I must've grimaced because she laughed. "It won't be that bad, but make the most of this. Find out what it is you want. Who it is you want. If you and Will or you and Big Red are meant to be, then give whichever one it is time to get to you. He might not be all that far away. It's not completely unheard of for it to take a man more than a week to get his shit together. They don't all fall in an instant. If they did, you would hate that. You wouldn't want to hand over your independence in an instant, would you?" "Of course not." "Anyway, would it really be fair for someone to fall in love with you when everyone knows you're still hoping that Will or the Big Red guy will come back and declare their undying love for you?" 

And I thought I hid it so well. 

Holly talked some more: the inspirational spiel of proud singles everywhere (despite her being engaged. WTF?!), reminding me that with so many men hanging around there was no chance I could give my all to one guy anyway. When I finally left I had a renewed motivation and positivity. There was almost a spring in my step. Almost. Optimism that had escaped me since well before PT Patrick was rediscovered and I strutted from that snooty cafe ready to tackle the world, and as a first step, to cook myself dinner. 

It is now 8pm on a Sunday night. Dinner was delicious and the dishes are washed, dried and put away. Joshua Radin is playing on my iPod. I'm writing you a letter. 

This life really isn't so bad. 

Liv x 

[waitingx2xdie]

There was no telling her. ── At least there was no chance of Kat Jennings actually listening to you without bitching you out in equal parts. She’d find a new excuse or simply tell you to mind your own damn business and not tell her how she feels. That was the long and short of it. Kat Jennings had a very microscopic understanding of her own emotions and how they influenced her actions—actions that had previously been so carefully manipulated and curated to forge a woman who valued results more than her own personal satisfaction. She’d trained herself to see career growth as satisfaction in and of itself, believing that to be the only way any woman could ever get ahead in such a cutthroat business. A creed she’d apparently long outlived if you believed Death Himself and that stupid list of His. She let out a sigh, her tongue lashing out to wet drying lips at an anxious pace.

“Yeah? And did you see any of them helping me when I was pinned by that goddamn tree?” She raised her brow, shaking her head in question, daring Nora to answer. “No, they got EUGENE out. They got EUGENE in an ambulance. So pardon me if I don’t give a shit about them.”

That… She stunned herself, falling into a quiet silence, hands bunching up, eyes closing. It was time for a deep breath before she spilled every bean in her increasingly shriveled little can.

“Only for what? For me to die instead?” Tears pricked at her eyelashes, and she was quick to blink them away, turning her head to the silence and taking another deep breath. “So I just let you die?” She shrugged, her tongue now licking at her teeth, and she clacked it.

“As if you weren’t the one that saved me in the crash? As if you hadn’t come THIS CLOSE to throwing yourself at Tim in an attempt to save him?” She snorted and shook her head. “As if you wouldn’t have saved Emily like I did?”

That was a sore spot. But it was something Kat would never let go of. She’d been put through HELL for saving Emily’s life, accidentally dragging her into Death’s list, as if she herself hadn’t been the one that dropped the match that acted as a fuse for the explosion that saw Rory dissected into tiny little giblets. As if Nora could’ve had it in her to sit back, watch, and hope Emily saved herself.

“If this… thing… is gonna get us… I’m not just gonna sit back and watch. Wait. Like fish in a barrel. I’m… I’m not gonna be that dumb cow in the field just grazing, waiting for the day the farmer comes to put a bullet in my brain and strip my carcass for Sunday’s roast.” She fell quiet again, swallowing hard and letting out a pensive exhale. “And you shouldn’t either. None of us should. Saving you keeps me on my toes. I’m sure Kim feels the same way about Thomas. And y’know, I’d say I wish I had someone who’d do the same for me. But I already do.”

Her name was Nora. And not only was she a giant hypocrite, but she was also a royal pain in the ass.

Hesitation. Prudent eyes observed Nora, analyzing her every feature and movement, training herself on how to read her body language and self-expression. She stepped forward, reaching for Nora’s hands where they clutched at her throat and gently pressed their foreheads together.

“It’s okay…” she whispered, helping to steady her fidgeting hands and guide them to that Holy Cross. Giving her hands a comforting squeeze before pulling away and planting a kiss where their foreheads had met.

“Yeah? Then why do you do it for me?” A glaring question, perhaps even a projection of her own existential crisis. ‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much,’ sprang to mind. Or, rather, ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks,’ as the actual quote went. Yes, she was that bitch. One didn’t reach the top of her sector in risk analysis by being wishy-washy with paraphrases and quotations.

“I don’t?” She snorted again, smiling. “Weren’t you paying attention? You gotta bite the dust before I do. I keep you alive, I keep me alive.”

And that was as far as Kat had gotten in understanding exactly why. Perhaps she, like Nora, just needed someone, something, to protect. In the wake of a career, she lacked a real cause to keep living for. The problem with facing down Death? That thing they say about your life flashing before your very eyes? Turns out that part, at least, is true. And boy, was Kat’s life empty as it flashed on by. Passed her by…

“Yeah, and then you choke on a peanut, I have no idea, and my laptop blows up in my face. No thanks.” Brow raised, perhaps she’d finally found an angle. A reason. Forewarning of when Death was after her. It wasn’t a watertight explanation, but it would do.

“Seriously, you ever read up on the Flight 180 deaths? Or Evan Lewis’s death? One minute everything’s fine, the next your microwave explodes, your kitchen’s on fire, you’re climbing down the fire escape, slipping on spaghetti, and BAM. Ladder eyes.”

Poor Evan Lewis. Kat found it far too easy to speak of him, considering they’d only really known each other in passing. Shit, he wasn’t even interviewed with the rest of them. It was like talking about a starving African in Ethiopia.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Nora. But I don’t trust you to be okay on your own. Maybe that’s why I look after you.” Still lying, huh? “Besides, it’s nice to have someone to keep me from choking, too.”

Focus finally turned back to her emails. “Besides, I’m almost done. Only a few more to go.”

A few moments passed in silence, and Kat shuffled in the cloying quiet. “Nora?” Head turned back to her, and all that training was starting to pay off. The way she could see the pain etched in Nora’s face, like the telltale signs of a puppy having a nightmare. The way she curled into herself, almost fetally, as if to… was it chasing away the pain? Or clutching it closer to make it hurt that much more?

Didn’t matter. One last sigh. “Fine. My emails can wait.” She closed her laptop screen and moved over to Nora’s bed, crawling in beside her and wrapping her arms around her, holding her close.

“See? It’s okay to breathe. I just did. Come on. Breathe. …Breathe.”

WHO WAS GONNA TELL HER? ── Saving Nora's life would do nothing to protect Kat. Hell, it was far more likely to put HER in harms way, seeing as she was NEXT in line. Who was to say that if the other, say, pushed her out of the line of oncoming traffic, it wouldn't just skip her and kill Kat immediately after? This was the same woman who had been JOKING AROUND only minutes before Nora had been trapped in that elevator about how "Nora had to bite it before her anyhow," while the mourning mother clutched the teddy-bear Tim had received at the dentist's office before he...just thinking about it made her stomach twist violently, bile crawling up her throat. Her chest felt like it might cave in at the thought. Burning at the tonsils. She couldn’t shake the image of her son—her baby—splattered across that cold, unforgiving concrete. The memory flashed too vividly behind her eyes, and she dry-heaved, body convulsing. She pressed a trembling hand to her lips, fighting the urge to vomit. Breathe. Just breathe, or you’ll be sick. “Yeah, well, I don’t see you rushing to help anyone else on this list,” she said, her voice laced with pain. “Besides, who’s to say you won’t save me, only for…” HARD SWALLOW. This whole concept was still a lot for her to wrap her head around. The only solace she found in it, was that if death existed that meant an afterlife existed, which meant when she died she would be back with her son and husband. “…for IT to get you right after?” Why was she pushing Kat away? Honestly, because there was a part of her that was still ready to die. A part of her that was tired of fighting. Maybe she was even hoping that Kat would stop trying to save her... that she'd just LET HER GO.

(Only in that elevator, she'd screamed she didn’t want to die.)

Nora’s fingers traced absently along the bruises on her throat, a reminder of how close Death had come for her. The bluish marks were fading, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before new ones marred pale skin. If she was lucky, bruises would be the worst of it. Her hand trembled as the thought struck her, a chill of anxiety shooting down her spine. She clutched her throat, searching for something... HER NECKLACE. It had belonged to Eric before he passed. & She'd worn it, along with her wedding ring every day for the past four years. Her way of staying close to him. Just as she now carried around that teddy-bear in her purse. Whenever the world grew too heavy, she'd grip the necklace, reminding herself of the weight Christ carried, of the suffering he endured. If God had a plan for her, then surely, when He decided she'd suffered enough, she would be reunited with her family... FINALLY... “Of course, I would’ve done the same for Tim. I’m his mother.” She paused, the past tense stinging. She still couldn’t bring herself to fully accept it.

Was his mother.

“But you... you don’t owe me anything, Kat. I’m a total stranger to you. You don’t have to watch over me.” Okay, so that wasn't entirely true. The two of them had gotten closer. She still wouldn't go so far as to call them FRIENDS. Trauma-bonded was a better term for it. Nora let out a shaky breath, sinking deeper into the cushions. She was exhausted. When was the last time she slept? When had ANY of them last slept? “I’m sure you’d be more comfortable doing those emails at your place,” she added softly, her voice thick with fatigue. “I’ll be okay…” She really WOULDN'T. The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, and the shaky sigh that escaped only confirmed it. Her eyes fluttered shut, lids heavy with exhaustion, but her mind wouldn’t stop racing. The fear, the guilt, the grief—it all swirled together like a storm.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Power Play.

Based on this ask.

Pairing: Yandere!Zhongli x Reader x Yandere!Childe (Genshin).

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Sex-Doll AU, GN!Reader, Possessive Behavior, Slight Dub/Con Towards The End, Overstimulation, and Spit.

“Is that all androids are built to do, these days?”

You’d never heard Zhongli so angry – which was to say, you’d never heard him angry at all. He’d only ever spoken to you in gentle tones, delicately, like you’d break if he ever raised his voice or failed to coo in a way that didn’t leave you nodding along and melting into him, but Childe must’ve failed to earn the same luxury.

From where he was sitting on your bedroom's loveseat, you could just barely see his expression, all narrowed eyes and downturned lips, all the same little, jealous tics he didn’t bother to hide whenever you talked about anyone you’d slept with before him, anytime you lingered a little too long on any android that wasn’t him. You were surprised that he hadn’t intervened, honestly, that you hadn’t been slung over his shoulder or dragged across his lap as soon as you came home with Childe clinging to your arm. There was probably something in his programming holding him back, a safeguard to make sure androids didn’t tear each other apart as soon as their eyes met. That, or it was a holdover from his days as a Morax model, and he just wanted to see if he could still make an enemy unit squirm.

Childe, however, seemed unaffected by Zhongli’s hardheartedness. “Master seems to like it,” He sang, letting his head lull to the side as his glassy eyes flickered over you, over your body, limp and exposed underneath him. He was still fucking into you, but his pace had slowed into something repetitive and lethargic, more for your sake than his. For as exhausted as you were, he was still grinning, still in full control of how much force he used and how tightly he held your waist as he dragged you a little farther down the mattress, as he leaned down just close enough to speak directly into your ear, the low edge to his voice sending an involuntary shudder down the length of your spine. “This is… what? The third time you’ve cum for me? If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone’s a little jealous that Master has a new favorite.”

“You don’t—” The air caught in your throat as he rolled his hips, the head of his cock brushing against something painfully vulnerable inside of you. He was less collected than Zhongli, less willing to take long hours to poke and prod and edge your body towards its inevitable breaking point, but Childe still seemed to know just where to press, just how to keep you hot and sensitive and in the palm of his hand. “You don’t have to call me—”

“Oh? Hear that, Xiansheng?” He knew just where to aim, too, which area to target as he let his lips brush against the side of your throat, as his hands drifted from your waist to your chest, taking careful lengths to avoid anything you wanted him to touch with a softened kind of sadism. “Does Master ever make such cute noises for you?”

Your mouth fell open, an unsteady whine escaping in place of anything intelligent you might’ve said, but it was quickly cut short by the sound of sharp footsteps, by Childe’s form being jerked away from yours too suddenly not to catch you off-guard. It took you a moment to process the sight of Zhongli above you, standing next to your bed, one hand tangled in Childe’s hair and the other grasping his jaw, his expression caught between schooled stoicism and blatant hostility. “Open your mouth.”

It was a demand, not a suggestion, issued in the same voice he used when he was telling you to get on your knees, or take off your clothes, or ordering you to give him anything he'd rather take than ask for. Childe’s grin only widened, sharpening into something nearly dangerous. "As if I'm going to listen to such an outdated mo—”

Without waiting for him to finish, Zhongli forced a thumb into Childe’s mouth, prying his teeth apart and again, with no trace of reluctance, spat onto his tongue, a vapid misuse of self-generating artificial saliva. Childe jerked back, more out of shock then revolsion, but Zhongli's grip was iron-clad, only growing tighter as his patience waned. “Can you swallow on your own, or do you need someone to show you how to do that, too?”

Childe hesitated, but not for very long. You could see his throat move, his eyes flicker from you to the bed to Zhongli, his shoulders slumping as he relaxed in Zhongli’s hold. Zhongli, for his part, clicked his tongue, releasing his jaw and carding his fingers through Childe’s hair, allowing Childe to lean into his palm. “That’s it,” He started, allowing himself a small smile. “See? Doesn’t it feel better to do as you’re told?”

Quiet, small. Almost embarrassed, if you were willing to give Childe so much credit. “Yes, Xiansheng.”

“And you’re ready to behave, now?”

“Yes, Xiansheng.”

“Good boy.” With a low sound of approval, Zhongli pulled away, kneeling beside him and placing a hand on Childe’s lower back. “Tease when you start, not after Master’s—” You cringed at the new petname, but couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. “—already so pent-up. Decide how much force you’re going to use and use it, don’t be so sporadic. And don’t let yourself get distracted so easily, either. You have the most important person in the world directly in front of you. There shouldn’t be anything else on your mind.”

Childe nodded, still subdued, still eerily vacant, and Zhongli hummed, watching on as Childe began to move, again, to thrust into in calculated, powerful kind of way – in a way that couldn’t be more divorced from his earlier, erratic pace. You let out a breathy groan, cool pangs of overstimulation instantly turning into a hot, persistent burn. “Wait, I— I think I’m already—”

“Just like that,” Zhongli encouraged, just loudly enough to speak over you. He leaned back, resting against the headboard and crossing his arms, a broad smirk now painted across his lips.

“And don’t stop until our precious Master is satisfied.”

[tittyblade]

tumblr etiquette 101

a list that is nowhere near exhaustive, from yours truly.

First off, welcome! Whether you’re a twitter veteran looking for anything but whatever twitter is, or a new user just done signing up, glad to see you in our ranks beloveds! Welcome home. Refer to this quick tour to make sure your fandom experience (or tumblr experience in general) is a positive one!

Disclaimer: I know it’s long, but please try to read or skim through til the end if you’re new here! This is by no means meant to be a rule book (for the most part lol), only a guide to help you get settled easier!

1) Your blog

This is where people will see and interact with you, so put some effort into it!

Try to choose a name (url) that’s simple. You can see it as your brand, it’s how people will perceive you and remember you. If you’d like to interact with other users here (and not use the site just for the content) it’s better to have something short and sweet, preferably without spaces. (Of course, these are only suggestions.) Rest assured, you can change it literally any time you want.

Have a theme. Utilize the tool that lets you edit your blog’s color or the font of your bio! You can make it match your profile picture, or your blog if it has a theme of its own. Make it feel homey :]

Fill in your bio. People will be checking out your profile probably more often than you think. Don’t leave it empty! Put in any information you’re comfortable with sharing and isn’t too personal (like your age if you’re a minor, or other TMI that can be found on other people’s carrds). It’s always better to add a name/nickname people can use to refer to you by, but feel free to use your blog description to shitpost still.

You can have an intro post. More often than not, you’ll see a blog have a pinned post, a post permanently appearing at the top of a blog until you pin another post or unpin it. You can make one of those, if you’d like to introduce yourself in more length, link any other socials or a carrd, and show others visiting your blog how you tag things so it’ll be easy for them to navigate. Not an obligation.

Keep your anonymity and your safety. It should go without saying, but there’s no harm in repeating it just in case. Your comfort, privacy and safety has the utmost importance. Don’t share any information you don’t want to. Don’t share your age if you’re a minor, or any other incredibly personal info. I’d encourage you to go by a nickname that’s not your real name, (blog name, your brand, remember?) since there’s safety in anonymity, and that’s lowkey one of the big deals of tumblr, but that’s up to you still.

Choose what you want to be visible. Your liked posts and who you follow are all things you can set to keep to yourself and hide from the publics eye, how handy! You should go through all the setting while you’re at it, set it to your comfort.

Side blogs are a thing. You can have multiple blogs that you can use for different things (see: different fandoms, art blog, etc) to keep them organized or away from your followers. Just remember that the replies and off-anon asks you send will be from your main blog, as well as where you follow other blogs from.

2) Interacting with others

You’ve set up your account, now comes the fun part!

Follow to your heart’s desire. If you care about others seeing who you follow, fear not! In tumblr, usually only two types of blogs keep their following visible to others: newbies, and big blogs using it to point people on other good blogs’ direction. Just turn it off, and go ham following people.

Customize your dashboard. Gonna mention just two things here: this is another reason why it’s really important that you follow blogs without sparing, your dash will collect dust otherwise; and you should turn off “best stuff first” in your dashboard settings, to have a better community here and all.

Follow tags. You can set it in your settings that posts with your followed tags appear on your dashboard.

You can check the og post for edits and context. When you see a reblogged post you don’t understand the context of (or don’t recognize the character in case of fanarts), click on the profile so it will take you to the original post. From there you can check the original poster’s tags to get the context, or see if there have been any edits made to the post, since when you edit a post it doesn’t update any past reblogs.

Send people asks... This is how you make mutuals, people! Do it off-anon if you’d like them to know your blog, or anon if you’d rather not! (You can still end your messages with a signature to show you’re the same person, -[name] is one example.) Send them nice messages, ask their opinion on something, discuss things, or just straight up shitpost lol. Go wild. The sky’s your limit and it’s definitely more than 280 characters.

...and let them ask you! You can set your preference in the settings, do it on desktop tumblr to access more settings tho! What you can customize on mobile is limited (like letting people ask you things anonymously, that’s only on desktop settings). In my personal opinion, it’s always better to tag their username (or a nickname you give them, if they’re a friend) on that post, since you wouldn’t want your interactions with your friends to get buried in your blog forever.

Comment on posts. If you have something to say but don’t want the post to appear on your blog you can add a comment. The owner of the post will get a notif for it, but for anyone else you need to tag them.

For the love of god, reblog. People will only see your liked posts if you have it visible to public and they specifically go on your blog to look at them. You like something? You reblog. It’s already hard for posts to circulate properly, if you don’t reblog them literally no one will see them. If not for anything do it for the artists. Just hold and drag on mobile to fast rb.

3) Your Posts

Finally here! Don’t be a lurker, post and engage!

Make use of “read more”. If your post is long, add it. That’s what you clicked on earlier to expand this post. On desktop leave an empty line and you’ll see three dots appear, and on mobile type :readmore: on that empty line.

Draft a post to come back to it later. Pretty self explanatory.

Queue your post. Whether it’s your own post or you’re reblogging, make use of the queue feature to a) not spam reblog and fill up the dashboard of people following you and b) keep your blog active while you’re gone. Mess around in the settings, it’s fairly easy to set up.

Schedule your post. Same as queueing, the only difference is you get to choose the exact time your post will go up. Handy if you want to schedule a post for certain dates like april fools, or 5 years in the future for some reason. 

Format your texts. You can do all kinds of fancy stuff here (that’s a link, try pressing on it). Twitter doesn’t have this, make use of it. Changes depending on whether you’re on mobile or desktop. (Desktop has less features.)

Check your stats. If you’re trying to understand the algorithm better or want to look at some pretty graphs you can get your data on that on desktop tumblr.

@ people in comments. You’ll get all the notifs when people comment on your posts but they won’t see your reply unless you tag them in your message.

4) Tags, and tagging a post

This is where my earlier statement “this isn’t a rule book” stops being applicable. It’s not a war crime to go against these, I won’t come chasing you (don’t take my word for this) but you’ll work up a bad rep. Just saying lol.

Do NOT crosstag posts. It’s really tempting to add unrelated tags to increase your posts’ interaction, I know, but that’s not what tumblr is about. Don’t be a dick and make other communities’ experience worse for them.

Always tag your posts with “crit/critical/discourse/etc” if it calls for it. There’s no exceptions to it. This is the reason you see people migrating to tumblr. Let people enjoy things.

Don’t main tag a critical/negative post. If your crit post is about “Thing”, you add the “Thing critical” tag, but not the “Thing” tag. People block crit tags if they don’t want to see it, don’t shove it in their faces by main tagging it. 

If you don’t want to see something, just block it. Another reason why people are able to survive on tumblr. You don’t start discourse, you don’t make call-outs, you block. You can find something for every community you can think of if you go looking for it. The worst of the worst probably won’t ever appear on your dash, but if you’re worried or feel the need for it, you know where the block button is.

Feel free to shitpost or ramble. More often than not you’ll see people rb a post with a comment, and their elaboration will be in the tags. The tags are only visible on your profile and the notifications of the owner of the og blog. Just a thing people do.

Reblog artists’ posts with nice comments in the tags! Commenting on a drawing is usually done through the tags (Not an obligation, again, just a thing people do. Feel free to add your comment on the rb itself if you’d want other people to see it tho!) and leave nice messages for the artists! It’s a win-win for everyone involved. 

If you have more than a single follower, always use the common tw warning tags. You don’t need to tw everything, but tw’ing some common things is the bare minimum human decency. Keep it safe for others. 

Tag a post “long post” if it’s really long. Pretty self explanatory. Don’t make people scroll through all that please lol. 

You can use them to organize your blog. This is more of a pro tip, if you’d like to not miss a post in your blog, cause they will start pilin’ up soon enough.

#Liveblogging is pretty fun. If you’d like to talk to people during streams, don’t forget to add the relevant tags still! Again, you won’t show up on people’s dash otherwise.

Whew! That got out of hand. Hopefully I didn’t bore you too much. Check out blogs like @heritageposts and @hellsite-hall-of-fame to honor our past o7. @mcytblr-hall-of-fame too maybe :eyes:. Anyways, don’t forget the most important rule of them all:

Enjoy your stay! You’re meant to have fun on here while also making friends (if that’s your thing). Just be kind and respectful of others, you’ll get the hang of the rest! <3

[thebeautyoffanfics]

Idk if you already made this but Hanako, Kou and mitsuba jealous Hcs with their girlfriend that is quite popular among the students pls? thank u!!

hanako x f!reader, kou minamoto x f!reader, mitsuba sousuke x f!reader

a/n: sure thing!! No worries, I haven’t made it yet :D you’re so very welcome, and thank you so much for requesting!! I love jealousy headcanons tho I don’t think I’ve ever written them? I hope these turn out alright, and I’m so sorry for the time this took!

warnings: jealousy?

word count: 1,936

Hanako <3

Oh boy- can I do anything but wish you luck?

Hanako is already a fairly clingy and jealous guy, that’s practically canon. He’ll stand between you when you’re talking to anyone, and I mean aaaaanyone. He just can’t risk losing you!

(It’s got a whole lot to do with his insecurities, of course- while he wouldn’t admit it, not wanting to drop his “ah? I’m just an innocent little boy, free of issues and perverted thoughts <3” attitude, he does struggle a lot. He’s a ghost, a murderer, and imperfect in more ways than those. You’re popular for a reason. You’re so pretty, so kind, so lovable- you’re alive, and probably have morals. What are you doing with a dead murderer?)

Wow, ANYWAY- we’re here for jealousy, not Hanako’s issues, though they will probably resurface shortly.

Seeing everyone around you… always wanting your attention, always complimenting you…

You deserved it! He thought all of those positive things and more-! But… at this point, so many people admiring you, why were you still with him?

Even if you explain to him constantly that you love him dearly, and wouldn’t leave him for anyone else, he still gets somewhat possessive. Eventually putting the “but why does (Y/N) still love me,,” aside, he just wants others to keep their hands off you :((

It’s no fault of yours, and he acknowledges that! But it’s the fault of others getting so close to you >:((

Though they can’t see him, when people go up to you, talking joyfully- he’s standing there, arms wrapped around you, head on your shoulder as he glares daggers into their souls.

BRO IF SOMEONE FLIRTS WITH YOU OR TOUCHES YOU??

You’ve never seen him super angry, much less murderous. He doesn’t want you to see him that angry normally- but holy moley is he about ready to beat someone.

Yet, he’s still just a ghost- plus if he did something Teru would exorcise him, booooo. So, he settles for continuing to glare, standing between the two of you, hitting their arm if it’s resting on your shoulder. Once again, they’re completely unaware of it, but you aren’t!

“Hanako, you know I won’t leave you for them. They’re a classmate, I barely know them, really.”

“But they want to know you. And I don’t want them to know you… they’re gonna try and take you from me, (Y/N)!”

“I won’t let them take me, you big dummy. So, if you could please let go of me so I can get back to class?”

“No :((“

Not only does he cling to you, of course- though he hugs you bunches and squishes your face just because you’re cute- you can also expect a lot of kisses. Ranging from quick “hey, I’m here, and please don’t choose someone else over me”, “hey, my kisses are better than theirs!! Here’s proof!”, “you’re my girlfriend, not theirs, and if they keep treating you like you aren’t taking I’m going to stabby stabby (but I can’t stab cos Teru’s here, but I would if it wasn’t upsetting)”, etc, etc. It’s… almost strange how easy it is to understand what he means from the way he kisses you- but, I digress!

Overall, he gets jealous fairly easily, and gets very clingy when jealous. He’s not amazing with words, so he wants to show you that he loves you with actions!! However, those actions, more often than not, end up just being… clinging to you, and glaring at people who try to get too close to you.

(RIP Akane, Kou, and Nene for bearing witness to you walking around the school with a visibly angry Hanako. Though the worst the others get is the feeling that someone is staring at them, they get to witness his jealousy from off to the side.)

Kou Minamoto <3

He’s nearly completely opposite from Hanako, actually! He doesn’t get jealous very often, trusting you to actually tell him if something were wrong in the relationship. And, when he does get jealous, he does his best to not show it.

He’s not fond of being jealous. It makes him feel like he’s betraying you…? Like him being jealous is the same as him saying that he doesn’t trust you. But, similarly to Hanako, he trusts you. He just doesn’t trust others quite as much. Not with his very cute and very pretty and very sweet girlfriend :((

While it takes a lot to get him jealous, two things that really can make his temper cut short are (similarly to Hanako) when someone outright flirts or touches you. Especially if they touch you and the two of you aren’t at least friends-

If someone flirts, he’s going to casually slip into the conversation, if he wasn’t there already. A quick “hey, (Y/N)! Wait, sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking-“, then he’ll stand next to you, grabbing your hand lightly. One thing about Kou is, he does his best to be gentle all the time! Even when he’s jealous, he’d never ever hurt you intentionally-!!

If someone’s touching you, he’ll hop into the conversation as he does when someone flirts, adding a “I need your help with something, when you can.” This time, or any time really, if you’re uncomfortable you can use it as an excuse to get away!! Kou’s got your back!!!

If it’s been a day where people just constantly seem to be needing your attention, he’ll start to let his jealousy get to him a bit. It’s not even that some people like your attention- heck, he gets it! He likes having your attention as well. It’s more that… they constantly need your attention. Someone always needing something, even when he just wanted to have a conversation with you :((

In that case, he’ll be slightly clingy, and slightly pouty. Almost like a young child. His lips will be pouted slightly, eyes looking a bit lower to the ground than usual. His hand will be secured in yours, and your shoulder will be lightly pressed against his.

“Kouuu, tell me what’s wrong~,” You spoke, poking his cheek with your index finger. When he was like this, it was easy to tell he was embarrassed about whatever he was pouting over, and not upset over something too serious. It was the perfect time to mess with him.

His face would flush as it usually did- and he’d look away, pouting a bit harder as his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “It’s nothing, (Y/N), really.”

“You’re pouting. Come on, now, you really can tell me. I promise I won’t think of you any less!”

“…it’s just… well- well, seeing all those people around you all day, and I couldn’t really… even get to talk to you. You even had to leave early during lunch-! I’m not angry or anything- it’s dumb, it’s dumb, really-“

“Awwwwh, Kou! Don’t be jealous, sweetheart! It’s not dumb, I actually find it sweet. You know I’d choose you over any of those people. I’d much rather spend time with you than them, but it’s not exactly easy to say no… but, if it makes you feel bad, I’ll make sure they know that, at least, lunch is off-limits.”

“Y-you don’t have to, but… that’s up to you.” (AKA “I want you to, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to do something just for my sake.”)

Overall! Kou’s going to be a sweetheart, even when (not very often) jealous. He doesn’t want you to think he’s silly or not trusting of you when he does get jealous- so he does his best to hide it? Still, he fails, since he can’t help but want to be at least a little closer to you!! Plus the way he pouts- he’s easily read in most situations, and that type is no different.

Mitsuba Sousuke <3

Ahh, where to begin… I suppose the same way I’ve been beginning the other two-

Mitsuba is… a complicated jealous boy? He gets jealous rather easily- and… doesn’t admit it, but makes it painfully obvious. He thinks he isn’t being obvious, but it’s practically plain as daylight.

As he does all things, he masks his jealousy in insults at first! Making his way into whatever conversation or interaction your having, offering an ‘uninterested’ “what’re you doing?” After that, he criticizes every little thing the other person does- his levels of mercy depending on how much the person deserves it.

A quick question? Minimum amount of insults. Maybe one, two if they drag it out.

Just having a normal conversation? More than a short question, but not an excessive amount. If they drag it out too long, the insults go up.

Flirting? Lays the insults on THICK. Plus, after a moment, an annoyed and rather cocky sounding: “why haven’t you gotten lost already? Can’t you see I’m (Y/N)’s boyfriend? You idiot. Moron. Pervert. Who talks to a taken girl like that??”

Touches you? Doesn’t even happen. They reach for you, and he’s smacking their hand away. “Idiot. What right do you have to touch my girlfriend?? That’s invasive. Gross. You’re so weird, trying to put your sticky little hands on her.”

But! If it’s a situation he can’t interfere with, be it because he’s dead and the other person’s alive, or in which the people needing your attention goes on for too long- he enters Sulky Mitsuba Mode.

Don’t get me wrong, Sulky Mitsuba is still full of insults, just… sad. In those times, as a ghost, he can’t help but wonder if you’re content in the relationship. Look at you… popular with other students- other students who could leave the school, buy you things, and such. He was a cute ghost, but he was a ghost. He wasn’t even really Mitsuba- he wasn’t the classmate you once knew. How hard was it for you? Yet, you gave it your best to get to know him again-

Luckily, Mitsuba has the ability to tell himself “if (Y/N) did that much for me, she must at least care.” However, it won’t get rid of all his doubts- and he’ll still sulk once you finally catch up with him.

“Hey, Mitsuba! Sorry, I’ve been busy!”

“Mh? Have you? I’ve barely even noticed you were gone.”

Terrible acting skills, Mitsuba. He looks annoyed, his voice sounds uninterested, but… it’s still somehow easy to see through his little act. He’s jealous, and you’re bound to be aware of it.

Take a seat next to him, and he’ll scoot away. Be patient- when he’s jealous, it’s like approaching a stray cat. No sudden movements or you’ll scare him away!

“I’m sorry, Mitsuba. I know I’ve been caught up today, and I’m really sad that I haven’t seen you much until now. Did you have anything you wanted to do? I’m all yours now!”

“Tch, whatever. I don’t have anything I want to do, so just leave it be.”

Ah… do I even have to mention that he’s stubborn. Apologize a bit, he’ll dismissively forgive you, and go from there. Lighthearted conversation, asking him about his day, talking about yours- slowly move closer to him, and! Next thing you know, his heads on your shoulder as he rants about something that happened.

Overall, Mitsuba does get jealous rather easily! He’s stubborn as always, partnered with his insults constantly ready to be fired- it’s interesting when he gets jealous. He never outright admits that he trusts you, and doesn’t consider much more than “I’m feeling a bit jealous since this person keeps taking (Y/N)’s attention, but he’d never put the blame on you. Just… like I said, be patient, and don’t get too offended.