#can you tell I try avoiding using the prompt word directly

[thorneyes]

XIVWrite 7: Morsel

It used to be Rohesia could count on one dream to be her nightmare. The one where she drowned - that fear had supplanted all of her childhood terrors, and a few more besides. 

It’s not that the terror of the water has lessened. At times just walking the piers of Limsa Lominsa is enough to make her break out in a cold sweat. That fear she’s quite sure will never leave her. 

But there are other fears, now - not worse, perhaps, but more immediate, more gnawing. Ones that she cannot so easily dodge by avoiding boats and beaches - cannot so easily turn her mind from. 

Tonight in this dream - she knows in some way that she is dreaming, even though she can’t seem to escape it - it’s those other fears, nipping at her heels. 

At one point she was running the streets of her childhood home, winding the narrow corridors of sun-red stone and trying, desperately, to get away. Now it’s all dark, and she’s lost her way. Or maybe the way is gone now, the way it sometimes is in dreams. 

She can do nothing for that - not here and now, when everything in her still screams for her to run. Whatever it takes, only so she might get away. 

The shifting sound of her pursuer makes her shudder. She shoves herself back against a wall, and though she can’t feel her hands, can’t feel her breath panting, somehow in this dream, she knows this is the most panic she’s ever felt. 

Even so - she curls a hand into a fist, waiting for it to draw closer. There’s nowhere left for her to run. All that’s left for her to do is to strike out. 

The hissing voice of this nightmare thing drags over her like sandpaper. “Thorneyessss… it’s too late for them. Come here… let me devour you, too.” 

Rohesia clenches her jaw so tightly it must nearly crack. 

“Deliciousss, their aether… won’t you give yours to me, too?” 

Closer and closer the hissing, shifting form comes. Rohesia tightens her fist, and makes ready to turn the corner - 

And finally, finally, jolts awake. 

“Fuckin’ - voidsent,” she mutters, thrashing her way out of bed, in search of a light. She can’t stand the dark, not tonight. Not when, if she closes her eyes again, she’ll see the voidsent, wearing the corpses of her friends.

[3hks]

How to Avoid "Talking to The Reader"

A lot of people will often tell you to avoid talking to the reader, but why? How? And what does it mean? "Talking to the reader" is a technique used by an author when they want to specifically address the reader directly. Depending on your writing level and style, there could be several drawbacks to using this, such as a sense of informality and sudden awkwardness. However, I'm not saying that you shouldn't talk to the reader, because how you write is ultimately up to you!

But if you're genuinely looking for some tips on how to avoid talking to the reader, then I absolutely got you! As both a frequent reader and writer, I have advice based on experience and knowledge! These simple tips can seriously elevate your writing (especially if you're pretty new), or at the very least, make you aware of certain things and offer new ideas!

Replacing the 'you' with...

A VERY common factor in talking to the reader is using the word 'you' to reach out to your reader (dialogue from characters don't count). Although you should avoid this when you're trying not to talk to the reader, there is something behind it. Majority of the time, we include this word in a story when asking a rhetorical question. This creates a certain effect that reaches out to the reader while making them think, which can't be exactly duplicated.

Okay, so how do we fix this? Well, my advice is to simply replace 'you' with the word 'one'! Let's go a bit into depth, shall we? When dealing with a rhetorical question, the first step is to rephrase and reform the inquiry into a statement that answers what you're asking. Remember that this is a rhetorical question, meaning that there IS technically a right answer that you're looking for! Next, remove the 'you' and slap the 'one' on top of it! The replace-you-with-one method also works when you're not including it in a question, but instead a statement! Let's look into some examples, shall we?

Prompt: A lot of people will often tell you to avoid talking to the reader, but why?

Let's examine this example that I took from the top of this post, shall we? While this sentence is indeed in the format of the question, I am not directly asking you to give me an answer and there isn't really just one right answer. So how do we fix this? Replace 'you' with 'one' and boom! Done!

Fixed: A lot of people will often tell one to avoid talking to the reader, but why?

Alright, how about a much more direct question?

Prompt: The king's way of ruling was incredibly biased and unfair, wouldn't you agree?

For this prompt, we can see that 'you' is in "wouldn't you agree?" so it's pretty clear that we are seeking for an answer from the reader. In this type of context, the answer is almost always "yes," so we will have to take the longer route of rewording the sentence.

Fixed: The king's way of ruling was incredibly biased and unfair, one might argue.

As you can see, the phrase "wouldn't you agree" got altered into "one might argue." Why did I choose this? Well for starters, the sentence is now a statement, not a question, and it does indirectly answer our questions of "wouldn't you agree?" because it distinctly demonstrates that they agree with the opinion that the king's rule was unjust. Now, why did I choose "might argue"? Our previous question may have been rhetorical, but not everyone is going to say "yes, the king was unfair," so adding "might" and "argue" helps include the fact that it is indeed, an opinion!

Now that we have gotten the 'you' part out of our system, let's talk about another thing that can really help you improve on your writing (while avoiding talking to the reader)!

Stop Using...

Stop starting the sentences with "he/she is or has" (including past forms) when describing someone. I can safely say with first-hand experience that repetitive use of the sentence starter can feel a bit unnatural and too straightforward. In other words, you can most definitely do better!

When writing one's attributes, instead of starting with "he is" or "she is," try starting out with a possessive form of the pronoun, such as "his" or "her"! After that, it'll work itself out; let's look at an example to clarify!

Prompt: She had long, luscious, brown hair that fell over her shoulders in waves.

Fixed: Her long, luscious, brown hair fell over her shoulder in waves.

Simple, right? There may seem to be hardly any change, but this can seriously improve your writing when used correctly! Of course, continuous use of "his," "her," or "their" will also sound repetitive, but it's a good place to start! As experience follows, you'll get the hang of creating more varied sentence styles! Let's look at an example!

Prompt: He was new to the school. He didn't know how to interact with those his age because he was homeschooled his whole life. He was nervous even when thinking about his classmates and didn't know how he was going to survive.

Does it sound choppy? Too direct? Let's fix that!

Fixed: He was new to the school. Having been homeschooled his whole life, he struggled to interact with those his age, and even thinking about his classmates made him anxious. He had no idea on how he was going to survive.

Look at the second sentence; that's the most major change. As I combined a few different parts of the other sentences and rearranged them, it should seem much smoother now!

Be creative with how to form your sentences--that's all there really is to it! Experience will be your biggest guide and best friend when it comes to this!

Did this help? Keep in mind that my advice won't work with every sentence because a lot of it mainly depends on context! Happy Easter Sunday!

Happy writing~

3hks :)

[mysaintkitten]

Dolled Up | Kitten Braden x fem!reader

prompt: kitten does your makeup .. kind of (NSFW, no minors)(this was based off a suggestion that was sent to me !! i just had to hop on it i love any opportunity i get to write my horny thoughts about my wife)

WARNINGS: platonic relationship/hidden feelings, unprotected sex (p in v), overall pretty soft sex Lol, creampie

word count: 2.8k

also i just love this gif of kitten. it’s very similar to the other one i used, but she looks too cute.

“kitten, i can’t do it, i have no idea what i’m doing.” you whinged, looking at your self vehemently in kittens vanity mirror. you begin to tuck away your makeup palettes before aggressively grabbing wipe from your bag to clean off the mess you had just applied to your face. the two of you had plans to head out tonight, but judging by your now third failed attempt at doing decent makeup, you felt like maybe staying in was the better option for you.

kitten steps out from the bathroom, all dressed up. she’s dressed rather tame, she’s in high waisted emerald green pants and a black jacket, the simple pieces complimented her figure so well. her outfit wasn’t what stood out though, it was her face. her own makeup looked flawless, her having a gorgeous face underneath that makeup probably aided in it, though. you stare at her through the mirror, watching her body approach you. once behind you, she makes eye contact with you through the mirror.

“oh, angel.” she says in that sweet little voice of hers, “don’t get so defeated.” she begins to walk over to your side, kneeling down slightly so she’s at eye-level with you. “i’ll do your makeup tonight, then tomorrow i’ll teach you some things, sound good?” she adds, a small grin appearing across her lips. god. her lips. you think to yourself.

you and kitten had been friends since the end of grade school, you knew her before she was kitten. but within time, and you by her side, you watched her blossom into a beautiful woman. a woman who you’ve now found yourself deeply attracted to. it’s bittersweet, kitten is every sweet thing under the sun, all wrapped into one singular person, but you doubted kitten would ever view you in that way as well. she liked you, of course, but as a friend. you assumed she was straight, the two of you had never really spoken too much about exact labels but when kitten would tell you about her interests or sexual encounters- other women never really seem to come up.

you’re dragged out of your thoughts as you feel kitten tap your shoulder, “come, let’s do this on my bed.”

you rise to your feet and grab your makeup bag, bringing it along with you as you walk over to kittens bed. she crawls in and sits with her legs crossed, waiting patiently for you to join her. you follow her soon after, sitting parallel to her with no choice but to look directly at her face. kittens beauty made it hard for you to stare directly at her, you shifted your gaze around the room, trying to avoid her whole also trying to not come off as strange.

she laughs, “look at me, sweetheart.” your eyes drift back to her face, her eyes locking with yours. you feel a pang in your brain, your anxiety wants you to look away, but you dismiss it as best you can and maintain eye contact.

“first, we’re gonna start off with a nice base.” she says, squirting some primer into her hand. she rubs the liquid between her fingers briefly before bringing them to your face, spreading the product around evenly. her hands migrate past your face and begin to massage the excess primer into your neck, the slight pressure she was causing made your mind start to wander a bit. you’re thinking about her slender fingers wrapped around your throat, her kissing you, her touching you. no, no no. you say in your head. she’s your friend, don’t think of her like that.

“now, you don’t really need any foundation. you’ve got gorgeous skin, but a little concealer will make your under eyes pop.” she continues, rummaging through the bag, yeah yeah she was talking about your skin but the fact that she used the word gorgeous while talking about you made your heart flutter, just a little bit. once she locates the concealer, the places small dabs on your under eye and buffs it out with her middle finger. as she’s focusing, her hand has made its way to your thigh. she’s using you for stability, but all you can think about is that her hands are on you, and those dirty thoughts begin to sneak up on you again.

she applies some powder and blush and moves to the next step, “how do you want your eyes to look? simple? sexy?” she asks, scooting herself forward slightly to get a bit closer to you. “uh, hm, i think just simple for tonight.” you reply, almost tempted to go with the sexy option, just to see what that would’ve been like, but you ultimately don’t.

“simple it is, i think you’ll look better this way. your eyes are too pretty to be all covered up.” she says sweetly, her eyes scanning around your face before glancing back down to the makeup bag. you almost feel like you could drop dead, her kind words fuelling your delusions. you’re enjoying this in the moment, you know yourself too well and you know later tonight you’ll be wide awake thinking about what she said to you. reminiscing on the fact that she called you pretty.

“you think my eyes are pretty?” you mutter, almost in disbelief, “i think all of you is pretty.” she coos, “you could walk into a club and pick up any man you’d like, makeup or not.”

you chuckle, “i don’t really think i’ll be too worried about what the guys think of me.”

she furrows her brows slightly, a small smirk creeping across her lips, “not looking for love?” she questions, bringing mascara up to your lashes and swiping the wand through them gently.

as she moves to coat the other eye, you feel a bit hesitant to tell her, but you know she won’t judge, so you let it come out.

“no, i’m looking, just not .. with men .. you know ..” you nearly whisper, your voice trailing off. her expression changes, surprise, yet joy, appear on her face.

“you’re joking, dear! i can’t believe i never knew!” she giggles, placing the mascara down beside her, “you’re too pretty for men, anyway. i wonder if we’ve ever liked the same girls.” she adds before grabbing some lipstick.

wait, huh? this changes basically everything in your eyes

“you like girls?” you ask, your voice nearly cracking.

“mhm, a lot, really. much more than men. they’re sweeter, feel nicer ..” she counters, gripping your chin slightly as she glides the lipstick across your bottom lip.

feel nicer? you sense a slight heat forming between your legs, imaging kitten all hot and bothered underneath some faceless woman, her caressing kitten in all the ways she liked. all wet and needy, that’s a sight you’d do anything to see for yourself. the idea that was, moments ago, so taboo to you has now been flipped completely on it’s head.

“i guess it’s just cause i had never heard you mention it ..” you mumble, your brain turning to mush at the pandora’s box of lesbian hypotheticals that continue to spring to the surface.

“i kept those relationships close to me. i was open about my encounters with men because, really, i saw them as quick fixes. use them to get off, then move on. but with women .. i wanna hold them. and touch them. and love them .” she begins to whisper, her face inching closer to yours as she covers your top lip in lipstick.

you swallow hard, kittens face is so close to yours, you can feel her body heat radiating off of her, you can smell her perfume, it’s all too much. without second thought, you lean forward and peck kitten on the lips.

as you pull away, her eyes are wide.

oh god. you went too far. now she’s gonna ask you to leave and you guys will never speak to each other a-

your thoughts are interrupted by kittens lips returning to yours. she’s providing more than a peck this time, a full fledged kiss, her hands make their way back to your thighs. so far, not with any sexual intentions, she just wants to feel you.

she pulls away just enough to mutter, “such sweet lips .. wonder what else on you is sweet ..” before sliding her tongue into your mouth, what started as sweet pecks have progressed into messy eager kisses. your hands finding their way to kittens side, testing the waters on how far she’s willing to go. with slight nudges, you push kitten back, watching how quickly she submits. she leans back with ease, her cheeks tinted red and pupils blown out.

“i’ve liked you ..” you say, leaning on top of her and kissing her cheek, “for so long now ..” your lips creeping down to her neck, she lets out a sweet little hum

“should’ve let me know .. we could’ve explored each other so much sooner ..” she purrs, running the tips of her fingers down your back as you continue to plant kisses down her body. eventually, you’re met with her clothed chest. you wanna rip her clothes off and kiss and grip each part of her body, but you refrain, deciding that maybe some over-the-clothing touches are better suited for right now.

you place your hand on one of her tits, watching her expression and body language attentively, “is this okay?” you ask in nearly a whisper, she places your hand on top of yours and forces you to apply pressure while rolling her hips up into you gently, moaning softly.

you’re undeniably wet, and you can feel kittens arousal grinding against you.

she wraps a leg around you and begins to get handsy herself, her warm hands sliding up your torso to grip and knead at your tits, “oh kitten ..” you moan, rutting into her slightly. you kiss around her neck, stopping to lick and suck on the areas that make her breath hitch.

while keeping a gentle grip on your tit, her other hand makes it’s way between your legs, slipping into your pants and past your underwear. you groan as those delicate fingers of hers play with your folds while becoming absolutely drenched in your slick

she lets out a breathy laugh, “goodness, dear, this wet? all for me?”

you feel a bit embarrassed, “i told you i like you a lot ..” you huff, hiding your face in her neck as she continues to toy with your pussy. “poor thing.. can’t believe you get this wet all for me .. if i had known i would’ve helped you out, sweet thing.” she coos, “i’m wet myself, dear, you wanna touch?”

you nod eagerly, desperate to feel how worked up she is. with a smirk, she slides your hand into her pants. god, she’s pulsing, as your fingers sneak up to her tip, you feel her slit is slick with her arousal.

“kitten .. shit ..” you moan, your brain and body completely overwhelmed. earlier you were adamantly convinced that kitten would never feel the same way about you, now here the two of you are, flushed with your bodies pressed together and your hands down each others pants.

you’re both moaning, and whining, and basking in each others embraces. the desperation of it all almost makes it feel dirtier than full on sex.

“it would be a shame if this wet pussy wasn’t put to good use ..” kitten sighs, furrowing her brows slightly while glancing at you. she doesn’t need to be more direct than that. you remove your hands from each others pants and aid each other in stripping one another of their pants and panties, along with taking of your shirts by yourselves. as you both discard them into the floor, you peak over and notice both you and kitten had small wet spots within your panties. the sight of it makes your stomach burn.

“on your back, doll ..” she hums, directing you gently onto your back, your eyes are fixated on kitten. you look at the lipstick marks on her cheek and neck, where you had been previously kissing, you decide to add a few more. as she’s collecting herself between your legs, you lean your body forward and place some kisses on to her chest,

“oh!” she moans out of shock, you turn your head and suck gently on her nipple, feeling her body twitch slightly. when you pull your head back, you look at the cluster of lipstick stains.

“sweetheart, if you keep that up, i might finish before we’ve even started ..” she groans ardently, and you feel her tip teasing your opening, sliding your slick around with the head of her cock, “now, i just can’t wait any longer .. i gotta see what such a pretty girl like you feels like ..” she breathed, slowly slipping herself inside you. you groan at the slight stretch, kitten wasn’t huge, but a perfect size, or at least she was perfectly curated for you and your pussy.

once she bottoms out, she doesn’t start thrusting immediately, she holds you close, looking lustfully into your eyes and lips, proceeding kissing you passionately. as you kiss her back, she moves her hips out and slowly back in again. though she felt amazing inside you, you weren’t exactly in the mood for love making at the moment, you more less wanted to be fucked.

“kitten mhh!” you whine, “faster .. please ..” she chuckles, biting at your lower lip as she fucks into you harder, almost as if she read your mind and knew the exact pace you wanted to be fucked at. she moans into your mouth, one of her hands reaching down to grip your hip.

“so warm .. so snug ..” she praises, she wants to talk, she wants to tell you you’re the prettiest thing she’s ever been inside of, but your cunt has her at a loss for words. you’re in the same boat as her, so you feel no judgement.

“i feel so ..” you grunt as she hits your spot inside you, “full, god!” you moan, rubbing your clit desperately, “that’s it, touch yourself angel, such a perfect filthy girl.” she growls, beginning to fuck you harder. you feel breathless, you’ve never heard kitten speak so crudely, you wondered what else goes on in her brain while she’s getting doused in waves of pleasure.

without much thought, you blurt out “i want you to come inside me” as kitten relentlessly pounds into you, kittens shoulders drop slightly from that statement. her body going partially limp while maintaining her pace, “i’ll fill you up, sweet thing, with such a pretty pussy like this i don’t think i’ll be able to come any other way ..”

you look at her expression and cup her face with one hand, she’s so fucked out. with a hand on your hip and the other placed above your head for stability, kitten is flushed and sweaty, her own lipstick was smudged at this point and her makeup was smeared. you think about how pretty she looked when her makeup was fresh, and how you believe she looks even prettier now with it all messed up.

she gulps hard before moaning, “but if i come in you .. you gotta come on me, can you do that, pretty girl?”

you could’ve creamed on her cock from that, but you hold back, nodding feverishly, “yes yes yes!” you mumble mindlessly, your mind processing absolutely nothing else besides the sensation of kittens cock sliding in and out of you. from the foreplay to kittens skillful thrusts, you knew you were gonna come soon. and kitten was exactly the same.

“baby, shit, ‘m gonna come!” she whines, gripping your hip painfully hard, you don’t mind at all though, knowing she’s gripping you because of how good your pussy feels around her made your brain process the pain as a separate form of pleasure. mental pleasure.

“come for me, pretty, come on ..” you whimper, feeling her thrusts become weaker and irregular. as you feel her about to come inside you, you reach your peak at the same time. her thrusts mixed with your eager clit rubbing was a lethal combo, you knew you’d be coming fast and hard. you convulse and clench around her as she hits her peak, moaning loudly at the overwhelming sensation. she pumps into you lazily before pulling out, her softening cock feeling now overstimulated by your warm, tight walls. she leans back and watches your pussy. knowing she’s looking, you push a bit, and you feel the mixture of both of your orgasms spill out from inside you, she groans.

“gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.” she purrs, running her finger tips along your thighs. you both sit in silence for a few moments, collecting yourselves, regaining your composure, before she breaks it by saying,

“when can we do this again?”

—

i love writing about kitten. my wife for life 💗

[joeyalohadream]

i loveeee soft vulnerable gale and how you’ve been writing him in ur fic about his rough landing + when he’s sick in the stalag. could i request a little drabble on the heels of one of those situations where he needs bucky’s help to take a shower and it’s hard for him to accept it? i just think that’s so sweet and intimate but no worries if not!

Thanks for this prompt (soft, vulnerable Gale is my jam!)! I really enjoyed writing it! Continuation of my story, 'Another First' on AO3 (now a prequel to Part 2: their trip to London) Hope you enjoy reading it!

Also, I mentioned how I can't really write drabbles because I need more words... well...

Word Count: 2,157

Bucky dropped his bike outside the barracks door. He’d come back and secure it later after his excitement waned to a more manageable level and he’d shared the good news with Gale.

Three days in London. No missions, no responsibilities to a greater cause, no sneaking around, no sleeping sharing space with ten other men snoring away into the night. No, his only responsibility would be making sure Gale had the best time, whatever he chose for that to mean, whatever he was or wasn’t ready for. The only sound he’d fall asleep to after tonight for the next two would be Gale’s soft breaths, quiet even in slumber, sharing the same damn bed for the first time since they’d started this wonderful thing between them.

He smiled to himself as he pushed the door open slowly, trying to avoid the squeaky hinge he knew always echoed through their sleeping quarters just in case Gale had decided to take his advice and get some sleep after he’d eaten.

He huffed in fond annoyance when he fully entered the bay and saw Gale sitting up on his cot, still in the same clothes he’d had on for the mission. Blue eyes met his and he watched a small smile break out on the other man’s face when he noticed him. Bucky couldn’t help but smile back, especially when he saw his sheepskin draped over Gale’s lap like a blanket and his hands were folded under it.

They seemed to have the barracks to themselves, most of the men had been showering and getting dressed for an evening at the Officer’s Club when Bucky had left Gale with some hot food and the promise of returning with passes to their weekend getaway.

“Hey you,” Bucky greeted as took a seat on his own rack, directly across from Gale’s. Close enough that their knees touched in the space between.

“You secure us a victory Major?” Gale asked him, amusement clear in his eyes. Hope too, Bucky noticed.

“Sure did Buck!” He couldn’t contain his grin, not in the mood to tease or delay the good news. “Told you I would, didn’t I? Harding was three whiskeys deep when I caught up to him, and he accused me of riding the coattails of your aviation skills, but he agreed. You and me, three days in London. We can catch the first bus tomorrow morning at 0800!”

Gale just stares at him for a moment and Bucky watches as his words sink and a full smile, pearly white teeth on display and his favorite little dimple appearing on his cheek at the news.

“That’s great Bucky,” he tells him sincerely. “You did good.”

Bucky feels his face heat at the praise. He reaches his hand forward and covers Gale’s knee with his palm, gives it a squeeze.

“You and me Buck,” he tells him. “We’re gonna do it all right.”

Gale blushes, but the smile stays on his face, and he nods. “Sounds perfect, John.”

Bucky can’t stop smiling, anticipation a heavy feeling in his gut. He takes a moment to give Gale a once over and feels his smile slip a bit. He’s sitting rigid, holding himself still and Bucky doesn’t think he’s seen him move at all since he entered the barracks. The lines around his eyes are tense, despite his smile. When Bucky looks closer, he can see fine tremors wracking his slight frame and his smile drops completely.

“Hey now,” Bucky says. Gale’s smile has faded as well at the noticed change in Bucky’s expression. “Thought you said you’d tell me first thing if you started feeling worse Buck?”

Gale furrows his brows. He’s adorable, Bucky thinks.

“My heads fine Bucky, I promise,” Gale sounds genuine, but somethings wrong, Bucky can tell. “I ate every bite you brought me and I’m not nauseous. Ain’t dizzy either, so don’t even mention going back to that damn doctor.”

“Alright feisty,” Bucky laughs. “Cool your engines tough guy, I’m not planning on taking you anywhere except London.”

The sigh that Gale released was one of relief, but Bucky wasn’t done with him yet.

“Your head might be alright, but what about the rest of ya,” he squeezed Gale’s knee and ducked his head to catch the blue eyes. “You’re sitting real tense and I ain’t gonna lie Buck, it’s making me feel a little tense myself just lookin’ at ya.”

Gale looked back at him, an expression on his face that Bucky had seen many times before. It was a look that meant Gale was searching for something, trying to convince himself of something that he wanted to be true. Bucky hadn’t figured out all of the details of it yet, but he made sure whenever it was directed at him, he kept his expression open and let the adoration he felt for the other man shine in his eyes. It usually worked in his favor, and this was no exception.

“Feel dirty,” Gale admitted, his eyes slid away, gazing now at where Bucky’s hand was still covering his knee. “Smell like my fort.”

Bucky nodded but he knew his confusion was showing on his face.

“Okay,” he spoke softly, trying to be encouraging but missing the connection. Gale looked like he was in pain and that’s what Bucky had been trying to assess. Hygiene doesn’t seem like the most important topic when he’d just left the infirmary a couple hours ago.

Gale huffed, sounding frustrated. “I just want to go to sleep Bucky, forget about today. I’m tired John.” He tried to hunch over, but the action pulled a wince across his features and Bucky leaned forward.  

Bucky knew he was exhausted; he could see that. He was tired too; missions always drain them. But he’d seen the exhaustion in Gale’s face while he was laid up in medical and it had looked bone deep.

“Buck, help me out a little here,” Bucky pleaded. “What do you need?”

If he was exhausted, why wasn’t he taking a nap like Bucky had suggested early? He wanted to ask but he didn’t want it to come out patronizing and sometimes talking with Buck when he was like this was like walking a tight rope. One way and he’d open up, like he had earlier in the day, but another and he’d close in on himself.

Some days he reminded Bucky of an old dog that would curl up and hide under the porch when he felt sick. Waiting for it to be over rather than asking for help to get better.

“My back,” Gale breathed out, “and my shoulders. It all tightened up. Can’t even get my damn shirt off.”

“I can help with that Buck,” Bucky assured him, not seeing the problem. Gale had helped Bucky with his clothes, his boots, all of it on numerous occasions. Sometime because of the whiskey, but a few times because of exhaustion and illness. “You don’t even gotta ask.”

Gale looked up at him and Bucky wanted to reach out and shake him for a moment because he looked ashamed. Bucky knows he’s going to have to confess to Gale that he’s head-over-heels in love with him sooner rather than later, to hell with waiting for the perfect moment. It’s time for Gale to know, without a doubt that he’s loved and there’s no condition to it, nothing Bucky wouldn’t do for him.

“Bucky,” Gale’s voice was soft, laced with pain and discomfort and Bucky just wanted to hold him. “It hurts to move too much right now.”

Bucky’s heart squeezed but he kept his gaze on Gale’s face and Gale kept looking back, searching for something again.

“Can you help me clean up?” He practically whispered. “Can’t wash my hair like this and you know how much…” He trailed off, looking thoroughly embarrassed and Bucky couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips.

“How much you love your luscious locks?” Bucky teased but gentled his tone immediately. “Don’t worry, I love em too.” He added with a smile that made Gale duck his face.

Bucky reached over and tapped his chin, forcing his eyes back up and waited till he had his full attention.

“Of course I’ll help you Buck,” he told the younger man, smiling but serious. “I’d do anything for ya.” He tried not to be offended by the surprise that flashed through those blue eyes for a moment before he smiled at Bucky and nodded.

“Thanks Bucky.”

“Come on, let’s do this,” Bucky stood and reached down to help Gale stand, steadying him when he tensed all over at the motion. “I’ll grab your stuff, you just stand there real still and look pretty.” He winked at him and moved to gather his towel and his toiletries, ignoring the quietly huffed, “shut up Bucky,” from behind him.

----

In the stall that was furthest from the door in the large washroom, Bucky gripped the back of the metal chair Gale was seated in and pulled it back so that the spray was hitting the youngers man chest now that his hair was thoroughly soaked.

It had been a hard battle to fight, to convince the injured man to use a chair at all, but with some gentle coaxing and a soft yet exasperated, “You’re kind of shit at taking care of yourself so just let me do it for a while,” Bucky had won.

Bucky squeezed a generous amount of Gale’s rather expensive shampoo into his hands and made a lather before placing his hands in the soft blonde hair and starting to scrub. He kept his motion gentle, tried his best to swipe his hand in the direction that kept the suds from getting into the cuts that littered that beautiful face. As he scratched his finger into Gale’s scalp, he heard a low moan escape and he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

He absolutely hated that Gale was hurting, hated that he was in enough pain he couldn’t complete such a simple task on his own, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying himself. Taking care of Gale was one his favorite things to do and being able to do it in such a physical, tangible way that clearly made Gale feel good, made his heart swell.

I wish I could wash his hair every day, the ridiculous thought came to his mind.

Gale groaned again as Bucky scratched his fingers through the shorter hair at the back of his neck. Bucky was sure that if the heat from the water hadn’t already turned Gale red, he’d see a blush painting his cheeks.

“Sorry,” Gale mumbled. “Feels good.”

“Don’t apologize,” Bucky scolded gently. “Feels good for me too.”

Gale scoffed, voice low, “Washing my hair makes you feel good?”

“Making you feel good makes me feel good, ya doofus.” Bucky chuckled softly. Gale seemed to melt under his hands and Bucky tried his best to keep his eyes on the top of Gale’s head but he was only human, so he let himself watch as Gale began to drag the bar of soap he’d been holding over his chest and stomach.

Gale moved the soap lower, and Bucky refocused his gaze on his favorite head of hair and thought, London, London, London.

Gale seemed to have finished because he let the soap fall from his grasp and he let his hands rest on the tops of his thighs, water running down his body rinsing away the suds, leaving clean, pink skin. Bucky took a deep breath and tried not to be jealous of the water.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” Gale’s quiet voice broke the silence. “But I’m so damn glad you’re mine Bucky.”

Bucky’s breath hitched and he felt his eyes sting. He let his hands slide down to Gale’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze, already adding a massage to the list of things that were happening in London as he felt how stiff the muscles under his hands were.

“You deserve the whole damn world Buck,” he explained, keeping his voice low, enjoying the peace from the water and the steam. “And you just watch, I’m going to find a way to give it to you some day.”

A wet hand reached up and grabbed his own where it still lay on Gale’s shoulder.

“You already did give it to me,” Gale squeezed his fingers. “You are my whole world, John.”

“Damn you Gale,” Bucky laughed, but it came out closer to a sob. He couldn’t help himself, so he bent over, angled his head and placed a sloppy kiss to Gale’s wet cheek. “You’re gonna make a grown man blush, sweet talkin’ him like that.”

Gale laughed, “You’re one to talk. You make me blush fifty times a day.”

“My goal’s a hundred,” Bucky teased. “Now cover your eyes, I’m pushing you back under the spray.”

[jae-bummer]

Irritably in Love

Request: hiiiihiiiii!!!!! would you write a story with seungmin from stray kids using the prompt where a non bias member confessed to you when your bias [aka seungmin] in also in the room?? the only additional thing i ask is no love triangle or poly situation. thankies🫰🏽

Prompt:

18) A member (who is not your bias) confesses to you while your bias is in the room.

Pairing: Stray Kids Seungmin x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

"Come on, scaredy cat," Seungmin grinned, poking you in the cheek. "It's just a movie."

"A movie that has no effect on you because your weird little mind has already been warped," you grumbled, settling deeper into the couch beside him.

"It's okay, Y/N," Hyunjin hummed, appearing with popcorn that smelled suspiciously burnt. "You can hide in my shoulder if things get too intense."

Seungmin rolled his eyes as he looked up at the older member. "Then what happens when you get scared?"

"I don't get scared," Hyunjin laughed as he sat on the opposite side of you.

"Bug!" Seungmin shouted, pointing to the cushion beside Hyunjin.

Letting out an impressively high-pitched screech, Hyunjin flung the bag of popcorn to the floor before scooting directly into your lap. "Kill it! Kill it with fire!"

You couldn't help but laugh at Hyunjin's dramatics. It was an undeniable fact that he was the king of being fooled, so you weren't surprised that he played right into Seungmin's hands.

"Stupid," Seungmin cackled, pushing at Hyunjin's back in what appeared to be an attempt to get the taller boy off of you.

Hyunjin's panicked expression fell into a sheepish smile. Covering his face in his hands, he wiggled from side to side. "Protect me, Y/N!"

"How the tables have turned!" you joked, wrapping your arms around the noodle of a boy.

Glancing to Seungmin, you noticed an annoyed expression had worked its way onto his features. Avoiding eye contact, he stood, and went to pick up the popcorn pieces that Hyunjin had dropped.

While Seungmin's default mode could often be set at generally annoyed, it was never directed at you. For the entirety of your friendship, he was pretty wonderful, albeit it merciless when it came to teasing. That was one of your favorite parts about him though. He had a certain way of telling you about yourself that made you feel like you were in on the joke. You never felt singled out or targeted by his words, but just a victim of his love language. He was almost always on the defensive, but it was cute in an abrasive way (which may have been the best way to describe him as a whole).

If you hadn't had the self-control you did, you would have fallen in love with him a long time ago. With his demanding schedule, and your general aversion to thinking people could possibly have a crush on you, it was relatively easy. While you loved nearly every part of that bony, bobblehead of a man, you could be realistic. He would never see you that way.

Chewing on your lip, you looked back to Hyunjin who had apparently settled in for a cuddle. He glanced at you carefully, his face much too close for your comfort.

Hyunjin had always been a bit of an enigma to you. It was as if he existed on a separate plane that you could never quite understand. He was easily charming and extremely open. The two of you could talk for hours about nothing at all. You couldn't quite pin down the otherworldly nature of him, but you weren't sure if you needed to.

"Hey, Y/N," he said quietly, looking directly into your eyes.

You could see Seungmin go still in your periphery as he caught the hint of Hyunjin's whisper.

"Hey, Hyunjinnie," you said carefully, trying to gauge when the vibe around you had shifted.

Hyunjin slid himself backwards off of your lap and into the spot where Seungmin was originally sitting. Gathering his long legs to his body, he wrapped his arms around his calves, and settled his attention back on you. "I've been thinking about this for awhile..."

"Maybe you should think about it a little longer," Seungmin muttered, moving to sit down next to you. "We have a movie to watch."

"Seungmin," Hyunjin groaned. "Just give me a second."

"A second has passed," Seungmin said in monotone, tapping at the remote for the television.

"Y/N," Hyunjin tried again.

This caused Seungmin to groan and slump his body against the back of the couch.

You shifted your eyes back over to Hyunjin, waiting.

"I've been thinking about this theory for a while," he nodded slowly. "You know, how all of us are made from the same material as stars...and... I've really decided that our two souls, you and I, were born from the same star."

"Oh," you croaked, unable to move your eyes from Hyunjin's hopeful expression. You weren't entirely sure what he was getting at, but you had an idea.

"We're all made of star stuff," Seungmin grumbled. "I could be part of the same star as you, Hyunjin."

"No," Hyunjin insisted, shaking his head. Reaching out, he set his hand lightly a top of yours. "There's this feeling I get when I'm around you, Y/N. This completeness. It's fate that we've found each other millions of years after our star died."

"I can't," Seungmin gasped, launching up from the couch. "Absolutely ridiculous."

You watched as he shuffled toward the balcony, cursing quietly along the way. Pulling the sliding door open with a bang, he glared over his shoulder at Hyunjin before stepping out into the chilly night air and slammed it shut again.

"Hyunin, what are you trying to say?" you said quietly, now only able to focus on his fingers covering yours.

"I'm not trying to say anything," he chuckled. "I'm saying it directly. This is my confession to you, Y/N. Do you accept me?"

The truth you were trying to avoid was now outlined so plainly. Never in all of the time you had known him had you guessed Hyunjin could have a crush on you. It was a shock in a way, but with how romantic he was, it seemed on brand. You weren't even entirely sure if he liked you, or just the idea of you. That was the issue with Hyunjin. He was easily wrapped up in his own poetic ideals so much so that you weren't sure that he recognized they didn't necessarily apply here.

"Hyunjin, I-" you began, but were immediately startled by the thud coming from the direction of the balcony. Looking up, you could see Seungmin had pressed his forehead against the glass and was now staring intently at the two of you.

Shaking your head in an attempt to get your thoughts together, you looked back toward Hyunjin. "Do you really like me?"

"What?" he asked, furrowing his brows. "I literally just launched into a speech-"

"Which was very nice," you continued. "But also, were you thinking up those words before you met me and just happened to find someone that they might apply to?"

"I, uh," Hyunjin stumbled, confusion painting his handsome face. "Well, I mean, I've had dreams about who I thought I'd be with."

"I very much appreciate what you said to me," you nodded. "But Hyunjin, we're just friends."

"Friends," he repeated dumbly. "Right."

"I'm sorry," you whispered. Glancing toward Seungmin again, you could hardly stand the moody look covering his face as well. "I just...if I'm being honest, I have feelings for someone else."

Hyunjin looked up with a cringe. Catching the direction your eyes were staring, he let out a hiss of understanding. "Seungmin."

"Seungmin," you nodded in agreement.

"Well," Hyunjin sighed. "I guess I can't be too torn up. I should have known better, really."

"Thank you for baring your heart to me," you smiled sadly. "But I think you still have some stardust to reunite with."

"Maybe," Hyunjin grumbled. You could tell he was trying to act unbothered. "Thanks for letting me down in a nice way. I think it helps the crushing weight of being alone."

You let out a laugh. "Did it?"

"Not really," Hyunjin smiled tentatively. Finally taking his hand from yours, he pulled you in for a one-armed hug instead. "Go talk to him."

"Thank you," you said quietly.

"Yeah, yeah," Hyunjin grumbled. "You'll make it up to me sometime."

You nodded before pulling yourself off the couch. Your heart was fluttering in your chest, and you weren't entirely sure if you could handle the other half of this conversation so soon.

Seeing your approach, Seungmin stepped back from the door, and yanked it open. Stepping gingerly out onto the balcony, you slid it behind you again.

"Are you two strolling happily into the sunset?" Seungmin chuckled bitterly. Spinning so he wouldn't have to look at you, he set his forearms on the balcony railing.

"Quite the opposite," you hummed, taking a spot beside him. "I'm pretty sure I yeeted all of his hopes directly into the sun instead."

Seungmin's head swiveled toward you and his brow furrowed. "You didn't return his feelings?"

"Nope," you sighed. "I have feelings for someone else."

"Great," Seungmin croaked, looking away again.

After a moment of silence, he straightened and faced you. "Look, I know you weren't really expecting to hear two guys make a fool of themselves tonight but let me get this out."

You tried not to appear amused as you gave him your full attention.

"Y/N," he said sternly. "I never thought I would care about someone like this. I get it. Love is this unpredictable, unexpected...thing that just forces itself upon you, but frankly, it's been miserable."

You lifted your brows in surprise but remained silent.

"This feeling," he continued, his eyes searching your face. "This feeling that I have...it's going to explode out of my chest. It's too big. These emotions...they aren't even mine anymore. There is so much of you rooted in me that I don't even belong to me anymore and it's really very irritating."

This time you couldn't hold the huffed laugh that escaped from your lips.

"If you could just...please," he finally said, defeated. "Please either give my heart back...or if I'm lucky, give me yours instead. I know I'm annoying, and I know I can be prickly, but-"

As soon as his confession turned into whatever flaws he assumed he had, you wouldn't let it go on any longer. Closing the space between you while he was still in mid-sentence, you leaned forward and placed the lightest kiss on his still moving lips.

Well, that shut him up.

Looking at you with wide eyes, he touched his fingertips gingerly to his mouth and remained very still.

"Here I am," you smiled slowly. "Giving myself to you, as requested."

"I'm sorry," Seungmin said, his voice much hoarser than it had been previously. "Is this real? I just need to confirm I am not hallucinating."

You laughed as you reached up and cradled his cheek. "You impossible boy."

"Not hallucinating," he confirmed, placing his fingers lightly atop of your hand holding his face. "Maybe you should kiss me again just so we can make sure."

You chuckled as he rested his forehead against yours. "If that will convince you."

"Great," Seungmin said quietly. "I'm going to need to be thoroughly convinced, just saying."

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 5: Spooky parties - Multi!Muse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multi!muse x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of drug use, alcohol, pretty much anything messy at parties. A little bit of nsfw but nothing severe

Type: Blurbs

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Spooky parties with them

Notes: I have no hopes for my own doing of these things.

Jason Voorhees: Doesn’t really like parties, but is always dragged to them by you. Loves Halloween ones though, so there’s not much pouting coming from you. He’d let you dress him up to match costumes with him. Jason keeps himself occupied at the sweets table while you’re around saying hi to everyone. Terribly shy when you would introduce him to your friends, but would try to smile with a mouthful of cupcakes. He kind of becomes a favorite at the parties, participating in games from time to time. 

Michael Myers: Also not a fan of parties, but would follow you to them. It’s usually how it goes though, everywhere. He kind of just sulks everywhere behind you, turning his head to stare at whoever is staring at you both. Everyone tries to avoid you two the most they can, but you seem to be too fun to be around, so you’re still invited. You are at least, you and your plus one. After all, Michael does add onto the spooky aura of the party though. The plus side is that if anyone is causing trouble at the party, Michael easily takes up the security roll.

Tiffany Valentine: LOVES Halloween/spooky parties. Always wants to dress up for them and is even willing to dress you up as well. Tiffany always wants to match with you, whatever you want to be, whatever she wants to be, you always come down to an agreement. The more parties there are, the more costumes/outfits you both can put together. Getting ready is one of Tiffany’s most favorite activities. She’s so fun at the party, drinking, singing and keeping her arms around you, she’s definitely a crowd favorite.

Billy Loomis: Also kind of loves Halloween parties, he’d go to every single one he knows is available, always dragging you with him of course. Billy would drag you to every house party, drinking and smoking with you by his side. Sometimes things get a little too hot between you two. Billy would drag you into a room with him “just to make out” but most of the time it escalates. Either way, parties can be fun with Billy, though if you’re always needy for his attention, perhaps parties wouldn’t be so fun. Billy would keep you on his lap, but maybe pay more attention to the current topic at hand.

Stu Macher: Also loves Halloween parties and becomes a crowd favorite within time. Sometimes he even hosts the parties, bringing in all kinds of alcohol, allowing all sorts of drugs and whatever kept the party going and happy. Sometimes Stu would be a little blind to the way things work, not able to pick up directly on your discomfort. Still, Stu is always drunk, always singing at the top of his lungs and dancing lazily across the room. You’ll never be bored with him and his foolery often at times. 

Patrick Bateman: Kind of a fan of parties, just maybe not the house ones. His coworkers would host events celebrating the Halloween vibe to the atmosphere. You’d insist on going in costumes, but Patrick wouldn’t be exactly too thrilled about the idea. Shockingly though, he manages to get some blood splatter on his coat to which then he decided to just keep it, then go to your room telling you to “fix it” but then deciding the would be the perfect costume and no matter what you say,  he thinks this would be the best costume. To those who love to talk, Patrick definitely would be a favorite to them.

Leatherface: Also has fun at the party like Jason, he’s very innocent with what he likes and what he tends to enjoy. More childlike than anything; he is prone to being timid as much as possible, but when he discovers the sweet, he becomes a child. There’s chocolate all over his lips and fingertips, he looks at you with a mouthful, smiling and waving from afar. Bubba doesn’t talk to anyone, instead just keeps his head down and waits for you to come back from your karaoke session.

Harley Quinn: The queen of Halloween parties, can always whip up the best last minute Halloween costumes. It’s settled that no Halloween party is complete without the one and only Harley Quinn. She kind of overshadows you, but when does she never? Still, she always does her best to keep you included, bringing you on stage with her or to the center if you were having a dancing session or a karaoke session. Harley would for sure wear you down to the bone during these nights. Not to mention, she would be the type to go party to party to party back to back, so it’s best you keep up!

Poison Ivy: Not entirely fond of any kind of party. Ivy would gather socially with her beloved villainous friends, but nothing too extreme. Still, if you really wanted to go, she wouldn’t fight you. She’d throw on her best red silk dress and big Hollywood curls, elegant as always, even if it was a costume party. “I’m a rose-” She’d explain as she would click on her last earring, fixing her dress as she’d turn to you. Ivy would drink a glass of wine or whiskey while you dance along or sing along, admiring you from a far, just as when she first met you.

Bruce Wayne: This man was notorious for parties, though not the kind you were going to in order to actually enjoy yourself and have fun. While he would prefer to keep the night to yourselves, if you insisted, he’d deliver. Bruce rather be by your side more than anything, plus seeing you in costume could be fun. No matter where you two would end up, Bruce’s hands and eyes just can’t stay away from you. Not in a sexual or possessive manner but in a way where he truly is enjoying himself.

Jason Todd: Similar to Bruce, though he’d rather keep the party between you two, Jason would love to go out with you. Halloween parties downtown at different bars and house parties of friends of his would be such a great time. You knew you could truly have fun and let your guard down around Jason. Lots of watching you dance, drinking and letting loose to loud music and neon lights. Wouldn’t leave you for a second, even if you had to take a piss.

Billy Hargrove: So excited for any kind of party, ever. Not the kind to dress up though, but would encourage you to if you wanted. “No Billy, I can’t go dressed up if you don’t.” You’d shy away as you took off the bunny ears, but he’d insist you looked cute in a bunny costume, kissing your cheek and pushing your hair behind your ear. Whether you wanted to keep your costume or not, he wouldn’t mind, after all, most of the time, he’d want to go home early with you. Billy kind of grew out of parties when he fell in love with you.

Steve Harrington: Loved all kinds of parties before, would even host half of them, but it’s no fun when he keeps getting pulled away from you or interrupted by others while he’s with you. Of course there would be times where you two could hide, but then what’s the point of even hosting a party? Like Billy when he fell in love with you, Steve also kind of grew out of parties. Still, one or two Halloween themed parties wouldn’t kill you two, he does agree to match your costume after all. Maybe nothing too out there for him, but anything subtle, he’d be down for. And of course, all his attention is on you throughout the whole night.

Steve Rogers: Also not the biggest fan of parties, big ones at least, but he would be willing to go if all his teammates were going or if you insisted on going with him. You wouldn’t have to beg, the second time he’d bring it up, he wouldn’t hesitate. Also would go dressed up with you if you wanted. Steve’s shoulders would kind of drop when he’d see the costumes you picked out for you both. Your immediate pout would change his mind instantly. “No no, sweetheart, I love it. I’ll wear it! It just looks a little uncomfortable, but anything for you, you know that.” Steve wouldn’t stray away from you once, talking with his teammates and mingling with others as he’d drink and have his arm around you. If you wanted to sing or dance, there he went with you.

Bucky Barnes: Not a huge fan of parties either, the only reason he’d go at all is because you wanted to go or Steve did. He’d be a little bit more reserved with costumes, but he’d accommodate with you. Bucky would even give you suggestions, helping you put outfits together and even helps you with your makeup before the party. Like Ivy, he stays in the back, watching you from afar, drinking and with eyes locked on you and only you. Bucky would agree to taking pictures with you to add to your scrapbook and they’re probably the cutest ones from all year.

Wanda Maximoff: Depending on her social mood would depend on how she would react at the party and how much she’d dress up. Of course Wanda would match you, being genderbent versions of certain costumes to match the couple costumes. Without question would help you with your makeup. Her favorite couples costume would be the vampires, sultry and fun, intimidating but so enticing. No matter her mood, she’d dance with you if you wanted, letting you take pictures of you both. LOTS of bathroom pictures and overall she reflects with you on how much fun she actually had that night.

Loki Laufeyson: You’d have to be the one to invite him to even have him consider going to any party, spooky party or not. Either way, like Wanda, he’d help you with your makeup, wiping off the excess and making sure your eyeliner is sharp and ready to strike fear into the hearts of those around you. For sure would go as the vampire couple as well or even a Victorian ghost costume. Hands down you both would be the most stunning at the party, which doesn’t help Loki’s ego at all. He’d watch you from afar, not really one to be dancing too much, maybe he’d join you for a dance or two, but would rather watch you sing in amusement and awe.

Cloud Strife: Not another event you’re dragging him to again. Still, this kind of seems a little bit more fun to him than anything else you’ve made him do before. Doesn’t really want to dress up in any costume. MAYBE will go as the matrix with you but that’s about all. Cloud would be too shy for anyone that would come up to him trying to talk to him, instead looking for you. You said you were only going to be gone a couple of minutes. Still, would drink with you, keep himself from getting drunk so he could keep an eye on you. After all he was the one taking you home.

Aerith Gainsborough: Has honestly never been to a Halloween party before, but is super interested in them. Kind of excited to dress up for it too. She’d go as a fairy or an elf of some sort and would love for you to match with her. You two would hands down win the cutest couples costume. Aerith would have so much fun meeting new people and singing and dancing with them as well as her best friends that she already knew. Pictures of this night would be perfect to keep them in a scrapbook for memories. Honestly kind of the most fun to go to a Halloween party with.

Sebastian Michaelis: It’s kind of routine to have the Phantomhive household either host or participate in some sort of Halloween party themselves. Even if you insisted Sebastian would refrain from dressing up in costume at the own household. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’m still the butler and dressing up as a rabbit would not seem appropriate-” Only to be interrupted by Ciel who would ask him to follow through with your request. Well, there goes that.

Spencer Reid: Always down for any kind of Halloween party, anywhere. Him and Penelope would be the first ones in, planning out costumes, what they were going to bring, there would be too much excitement for one person to handle. Of course Spencer would constantly brainstorm what costumes you two were going to wear, no matter how ridiculous it may seem for others, it would be thrilling for him. Spencer always wants to appreciate the holiday as much as possible and that includes Halloween parties. Would do drunk karaoke and swing around as his excuse for dancing. Lots of videos of these moments would keep his embarrassment immortal.

[vnards]

GhostABO pt5

The shuffle of the medics around me lulls me into a tired dissociation. It doesn’t require me to answer any more questions, allows me to just breathe for a moment that I’ve left that cold room behind. It takes me even longer to believe that I’m not going back there. A belief with no promise, but a belief nonetheless.

There a sudden stop in conversation around me between the two and I look up for the disruption, noticing a new shadow in the room. His weight shifting nervously, awkward, as he holds two to-go plates of food in his hands. The alpha named Ghost. The beta nurse named Jacob doesn’t miss a beat, “I’m glad you’ve found us, Lieutenant. We just finished up here and V was just about to get some rest.”

Ghost steps forward, into the room, his eyes finding his way back to me as he situates the plate of food at my bedside table. The situation seems to parallel itself from earlier, the doctor falling into the background as Jacob maneuvers a mine field of its own. Ghost grunts something to him, his voice a reflection of the man himself, he turns his attention to me, his hands idly clenching in a bundle of nerves. “I wasn’t sure what you liked.” He refers to the plate he’s delivered and it’s a normal plate of chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy. Smells decent enough, but it’s nothing fancy, the closest thing to a meal I’ve seen in weeks. “You should eat.” He orders.

I’m too tired to fight him, telling me what to do. My stomach clenching with hunger and famine. I situate the plate in front of me, turning my attention to stabbing at the chicken as I begin to eat. The simplicity of food made with care and attention instead of leftovers and scraps.

Lieutenant Major Mercy turns to Ghost and summaries my initial exam quick and efficiently. “She should get some rest, Lieutenant. You can come back after she’s eaten and well rested.” Ghost knows he’s being asked to leave her, and a rumble begins in his chest at the thought of leaving, but he thinks again and knows she’s right.

He gives in, but he lingers. Trying to find a reason, any reason, to stay for a moment longer. When he’s unable to come up with anything, he relents, “Of course,” he begins to blend back into the background. There are no words as the other alpha begins to gently lead him out to the hallway. He doesn’t know what to say to her. So he says nothing at all.

The medic closes the door behind her, leaving V alone. Leaving her alone to rest. A thought he tries to keep in mind.

Mercy prompts Ghost, not letting the boogieman dictate the interaction, “Should I be contacting Captain Price or you about our guest.” Mine. The thought comes loud and suddenly, surprising even if the sentiment feels right.

“Directly to me.” The medic nods, taking the clipboard with the omega’s information and walking down the hall to leave Simon by himself in the hallway, the occasional person or couple moving passed him, careful to avoid his space, but looking,-watching the grim reaper out of his natural habitat. Never down here anymore than necessary. He can’t find it in him to move. So he lingers. Lingers outside her door, not wanting to go too far in case she needs something. In case she calls for him.

And something about that thought makes him perch outside her door. He finds a comfort knowing that she is eating. Finally acknowledging his own hunger and the plate of food in front of him. He eats by himself in the hallway outside the omega’s door, but there’s a whisper for a thought that finds a familiarity by eating with her. A connection Simon isn’t ready to dive deep into yet, with the want that lays under his skin. He eats in silence.

next part ->

[brighttears]

Self-preservation

Joel Miller x reader

No physical description, gender neutral, no use of y/n

Summary: Joel struggles with loving and being loved, you've already given in.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: language, mention of god

A/n: just a lil drama  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ also: multiple lines are from these two prompt lists and another part is inspired by this post (i can link the lines directly if that's preferred)

— 

“I don’t want you to love me. I don’t wanna be loved or love someone else.”

You shake your head slowly. “I wish that mattered.”

Indignation washes over him. Joel takes a threatening step towards you and barks, “You went after someone broken, you’re gonna get someone broken. And don’t you dare start with any a that ‘I could fix you’ bullshit.”

“I don’t want to fix you!” You let out a prickly laugh, your brow drawn up, and you gesture with your arms, “I love you, I loved you when I met you and I’ve loved you ever since, every version of you, I’ve loved, I love you,”

“Stop sayin’ that.” He yells. His insides are screaming. “I don’t know what you want from me.” Even though he knows the answer, he retorts, more for the sake of having something to retort. 

“I don’t want anything from you.”

He rubs his hand over his face. His head hurts. You’re perfect, and you love him and he yearns for you, he loves you like he’s never loved anything, and here you stand before him, begging for him, for anything, for nothing. 

Shaking his head, he starts, “Wrong place at the wrong time. Meetin’ me, just wrong place at the wrong time.” Joel turns away from you, almost hugging himself, gripping his biceps. “Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut, tearing through the thoughts whipping around in his head, ripping into the stories he’d forced so much faith into to make right all the decisions he’s made about you. “From the moment I met you, everythin’ in me told me to run… I didn’t wanna look at you, I didn’t wanna be near you, I didn’t wanna know you, cause I wanted to avoid this. N’ I’m sorry I didn’t, an’ I know you can’t help it, and I don’t blame you, I blame the world and I blame god for puttin’ you here, the worst possible person at the worst possible fuckin’ time because,” he raises his voice, annoyed at his own words, “I’m no wordsmith so I don’t know how the fuck else t’ put it, but you’re perfect, in every way, you’re perfect, n’ I love you.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, closes his eyes, and sighs. “I’m sorry I didn’t just pack my shit up n’ leave that first day, cause now we’re all” still facing away from you, he knits his fingers together and tighten them so that when he tries to pull them apart they’re stuck, “intertwined. I’m sorry I didn’t leave when I had the chance, I’m sorry you met me, I’m sorry I’m such a horrible person to love, I’m sorry that I love you, I’m js’… sorry.” His head bows deeply. 

After a beat, you speak up from behind him, “Why didn’t you ever tell me you love me?” 

He whips back to face you and shouts, “Because I was trying to avoid this! Because I wanted to protect myself from you and protect you from me. I mean, how did you think this would end—”

“I don’t care how it ends.” Your eyes are steady on his, voice gentle but assertive, “It doesn’t matter how it started, or when, or how much you resent it. I’m going to love you anyway. I'm going to want you anyway. I need you anyway.” You take a step towards him. He’s tongue tied, and having made the mistake of turning to look at you again, in your tragic divinity, he’s frozen. “You’re right, you should’ve ran while you could, because now I’m just gonna follow you. You should’ve ran as soon as you met me cause that’s when you caught me. I tried to let you go—I twisted the knife myself, tried to make it so I'd get sick at the sight of you, I tried to make myself hate you. But it didn’t work, I was miserable and I still loved you, I couldn’t shake you. So I gave up trying. I’ve given in.” you take another step forward, “I’m yours.”

Your words strike him like lighting and it devours all of his senses other than sight, spared by and for you. It shoots through cold but ridden by fire and it leaves him with cleaner air, each detail of your breaths now crisp, the space separating you distinct. His breath hitches. “I’m gonna break your heart.” he warns, a last ditch effort.

“Do what you want with it. I don’t care. I’ll take whatever you give me, I want all of you. If it’s ugly, so am I. If it aches I’ll ache. Put me in agony I’ll writhe for you.” You take another step towards him.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s gonna hurt anyway.” you answer him quickly, “Love always does. My fate’s been decided, you’ll be the death of me,” you step forward, “I’m just asking you to draw it out.” 

“That’s stupid.” 

“I know it is.” you take another step closer, “All this training in self-preservation, doing everything I can to stay alive, to protect myself, and then you come along and it all goes out the window.” The gap between you is now only inches wide. This is the closest you’ve ever been, Joel having always ducked away any time you found yourselves closer together than ‘friends should be’, and it is lovely. Your lips are chapped and you smell like soap but still like you, he holds himself back from sucking it deep into his lungs.

“It was that day we ran into those Clickers,” you continue, “I can still see it, clear as day, you standing right across from me in that doorway. And that clicking was getting closer and closer and I was thinking that these might be my last seconds, and all I felt was regret.” You slide your hand over his jaw and up to his cheek, two fingers in his hair behind his ear. He closes his eyes at the sensation of you on his skin and when he opens them, your eyes are glued to his lips. “Hurt me, I don’t give a shit, just let me love you before we run outta time.”

[rabbitenn]

Hello could I request imagines for a Tenn x Reader and momo x Reader with a Reader who has a crush on them but tries to deny it to avoid heartbreak (and struggles to talk to them)? Thank you🫶

OFF VOCAL.

Your feelings for him remain untold in the memories of your silent symphony.

ft. Kujo Tenn, Sunohara Momose x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, some angst.

Thank you for requesting, hun ! I’m sorry this is so late, but I hope you can still enjoy it, mwah <3

♡ KUJO TENN

The realization settles over you like the mesmerizing rays of an eclipse at dawn; you know you shouldn’t stare directly at the sun’s blinding daze, and yet, your eyes can’t quite avert from his light.

But this is normal, right?

Everyone was attracted to the rose gold light his imaginary wings always seemed to give off. A radiance in thaw; his otherworldly aura helplessly drawing you in, until the honey of his voice wrapped its sweet warmth around you.

Kujo Tenn.

Everyone’s angel.

Your closest friend.

And yet, obviously, you were not immune to his charms.

Every time his gaze found yours, no matter if it was in a crowded concert hall or in the privacy of one of your rooms, the world around you faded; white noise and the blurry background of a discolored picture were all that remained around you and Tenn.

Thus, you have to build a wall between you and the alluring image of the angel.

You can absolutely not reveal the emotions your heart beats in.

Tenn and you have been friends for so long… And he’s a famous idol on top of that… You can’t taint his wings in stygian ink just because of your foolish desires.

And so, you close off your own invisible wings, the freefall awaiting you, a slow, bittersweet agony.

For bites of tongue replace words you used to share with him, in the comfort of sugar scented bedrooms and the soft colors of glazed donuts.

And Tenn knows.

That something is weighing on your mind.

That the sunshine that usually filtered through the trees as he spent time with you is now dimmed; the first droplets of a downpour falling as perennial foliage decays.

You thought your silence would be the silver locket to keep your diary secret, but to him, it’s like breathlessness as a heavy feeling constricts your chest.

Thorny vines, opening your throat to ask for help.

And despite it all, you decide to stitch bloody thread over your lips, keeping them sealed, no matter how much your heart shreds.

Luckily, an angel’s halo just happens to shine upon you, healing the parts of you you’re self destroying.

“[Y/n],” Tenn calls you, as a few quiet seconds pass with no answer from you following. “Are you alright?” He asks, those beautiful maroon eyes of his regarding you with concern.

You stare at him with a confused expression. Then, you get back to your senses.

“Yeah… I guess I was just spacing out.” You utter softly, avoiding his eyes.

Fiddling with your fingers, you reach out for the plate of donuts sitting between you two.

The atmosphere feels tense enough around you, you feel you’ll suffocate if you don’t busy yourself with something soon.

In that instant, your hand is held by someone else’s.

His touch is tender, so gentle, as his fingers intertwine with yours.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” Tenn prompts, thumb running over the back of your hand.

You stammer, eyes widening, heart pounding wildly against your ribcage, a telltale sound of the frenzy your mind is into.

“I-I… I’m… It’s n-nothing.” You finally manage.

The angelic idol gives you a knowing look, a smirk playing on his too tempting lips.

“Since when did you become so shy around me?” He asks, one of his hands brushing some strands away from your face.

You take in a sharp breath, heat flaring up on your cheeks.

“T-that’s not…” You try to turn your face away from him.

Because you know if you keep getting lost in his pretty quartz-like eyes, your lips won’t be able to keep away from his.

And, however, it seems that’s exactly what he wants.

Taking your chin in between his fingers, Tenn guides your face towards his.

“Why, [Y/n]?” He whispers, thumb running over your lower lip.

Your breath hitches, pupils dilating as your friend, who’s definitely more than that, holds your gaze.

You know what he’s referring to.

Your silence. The avoidance and pulling away from him you’ve been isolating in.

“I can’t…” You begin, as thick words lodge in your throat, the fear of ‘I can’t be with you’ ‘I can’t have my heart broken when you inevitably say no’, the silent chains constricting your throat.

Strands of hair weaved from wishes on a shooting star tickle your cheek.

Tenn’s forehead rests against yours, as his hands thread through your hair.

He utters your name.

Millimeters separate his lips from yours.

And the hardcovers of your secret diary seem to fall apart this close to him.

“I love you.” You inevitable breath, pupils blown wide, in the space between.

Your angel’s answer comes in the form of warmth and softness upon your lips.

His hands move to your waist, bringing you closer to him in the sunlit space of the room.

Against your better judgment, your arms wrap around his shoulders, your form melting into the sweetness of his perfect embrace.

You’ve longed for this.

So many days, so many nights, in which dreams came to a close with you wide eyed, as you came down from the daze of his pretty face appearing in your oneiric illusions.

And even if you want to believe it, but fear makes you deny it, he’s yearned for this too.

Because as much as Tenn strives to move the hearts of his fans and put bright smiles on their faces, you are always the first one he sings for.

And now, even if it’s in an unspoken way, the melody of him next to you is finally being relied.

Alas, seconds helplessly tick by, and one cannot exist without oxygen forever, as much as you can’t be without each other.

“I love you too, for a long time now, I have.” Are the words that follow your Tenn’s soft smile the moment you part.

There is no need for locked vaults between you and him anymore.

♡ SUNOHARA MOMOSE

You know you are a fool.

Both for even beginning to fathom your feelings could ever be returned, and for acting the way you’re doing now.

You’re just making yourself miserable and you know it.

And yet, you’re hell bent on denying it.

It’s so obvious to you now how he could never like you back in the same way you like him.

He’s one of Japan’s top idols, for crying out loud.

The fact that you just happen to know him since his college days doesn’t mean anything.

Therefore, you are determined to swat away any thoughts of infatuation that come your way.

No matter if that means entirely isolating from him.

Momo.

The friend that’s been with you for over seven years now.

You can’t ruin what you have; and what’s more: you don’t know what you’d do with yourself if you heard ‘no’ coming out of his lips.

So pulling away, being quiet… That’s what must be done.

You were always good at it, anyway.

And besides, what good would it do, if you ended up accidentally making your feelings known?

This is for the better.

You turn around in your bed, the city lights casting a dimmed glow around your room; dyeing it in shades of muted cyan.

Blue.

Quite fitting for the state you find yourself in.

Lying on your side, sheets rumpled, as numbness and doubt wrap around you.

Your eyes focus on your phone for a moment, carelessly thrown around your bed.

You’ve been ignoring all the messages today.

Especially the ones sent by him.

You just… couldn’t bring yourself to open them; it hurt seeing his enthusiastic typing and all the cute kaomojis. It’s as if… You were betraying him by being like usual, when it’s clear your feelings for him have shifted to another direction.

Not that you’ll ever reveal that to him.

And if you ignore it for long enough, it is sure to fade away.

A doodle in pink pencil, undoubtedly to be erased as paper yellows beneath the ticking of the clock.

You knew that better than anyone.

You have been wiped out too many times when you tried to speak from your heart, for it to become whole again.

Deep scars still remain, and they hurt enough as is to risk reopening them once more.

It’s better to wound the remaining untouched flesh of your choking heart, if you want to avoid shattering it completely.

Fuzzy thoughts turn into exhaustion, which leads you into restless dreams, under the light of a dimmed moon.

You awake to the strident sound of a ringtone blaring right by your ears.

Judging by the light around, it’s still early, and no sun is filtering through the curtains today.

Groggily, you pick up, if only to stop the annoying ringing.

“Yeah?” You yawn half asleep.

A second later, you pull the speaker away from you, the voice on the other side, on the edge of yelling.

“[Y/n]-chan! I finally got in touch! You haven’t been replying to my texts, ah I was so worried!”

“I…” You begin. “I’m fine, Momo, please don’t worry.” You reply, trying to keep your tone even.

On one hand, it really does warm your heart he’s been thinking about you.

On the other, you really do feel guilty for having worried him…

And besides, you’ve totally failed to avoid him.

“Are you sure, [Y/n]?” Melancholy is palpable in his usually perky tone. It makes you feel a pang of hurt on your chest.

“I… Yeah, I guess…” You trail off.

A few seconds of silence on the other end of the line.

Then:

“You know, if you’re not feeling well or there’s something worrying you, you can count on me.”

Why was Momo always so kind? It makes it so hard to keep denying what’s clearly love for him.

“I’ll figure it out.” You mumble, perhaps more to yourself than for him to hear.

“I know you will, [Y/n], but, you know, if you want some company… Just say the word.”

A nostalgic smile settles on your lips.

The truth is you would certainly like it, his company.

You let out a sigh.

“I’d love that.” You utter, truthfully.

One of Momo’s bright giggles can be heard on the other end.

A few fleeting ticks later, your doorbell rings.

“Open the door then, [Y/n]-chan.”

You can’t help the wide smile spreading on your face.

“What? Really? You’re here?”

You can practically see the nervous laugh he lets out.

“I… uh got worried when you didn’t reply and I thought maybe you were sick, so I… kinda bought many of your favorite snacks… yeah…”

He’s too cute.

With that same dopey grin on your face, you open the door.

Even if you can’t make your feelings known for now, you suppose it’s alright to indulge in the tight hug he gives you.

You certainly needed one from him right now.

[bonesxbows]

Through the Frontier (Connor x Reader)

My Masterlist

prompt: scary short story for class

based on the Native American legend of the wendigo

you and Connor are riding through the woods at night and Connor can sense that the two of you aren't alone

(WARNINGS) - scary themes - horror themes - no happy ending

please do not read if you get/have anxiety about the dark, it's talked about a lot in this one, but otherwise, I hope you like it! It's a bit short, but my class has a word limit so I had to work with what I was allowed.

comments and reblogs much appreciated!

-

Riding horses through the forests of the frontier at night was never a well-suggested way to spend one’s evening, but yet here you and Connor were, on top of your horses trotting through the fallen brush and dirt, the cold tendrils of the night stinging your skin. The two of you would have usually stopped for the night to avoid the dangers that the darkness liked to hide, but Boston needed help and you doubt you would make it in time had you stopped. 

So on the two of you rode, pushing through the dark with only the moonlight to guide you. Everything was bathed in shadows, adding a layer of unknown to your surroundings, but Connor always stayed within arm's reach, him being the only source of comfort in the sea of uneasiness that threatened to swallow you whole. 

“We should be able to reach the outskirts of the town by sunrise,” he said, his voice, not any higher than a whisper. 

“How much longer will sunrise be?” you asked, fighting to hold down a yawn. Maybe Connor was used to not sleeping some nights but that was a skill you had still yet to conquer. He looked to the pitch-black sky, gathering information that he had a way of figuring out just by looking around. 

“A few more hours, perhaps sooner,” he responded, the clicking of the horses’ hooves against the dirt filling in the silence. 

You fell back into a dazed state, letting your body toy with the idea of sleep, confident your horse would know what to do and keep up side by side with Connor’s horse. Your eyes were half-lidded, the shadows of trees and forest brush passing by you in wisps when your horse suddenly stopped. 

You were fully awake again in seconds, the abruptness sending adrenaline through your system. You looked for Connor, who was still on his horse directly next to yours. He had also stopped and now sat as still as the shadows surrounding you. 

“Connor? What’s wrong?” you asked, panic laced in your words. He didn’t respond, his gaze set on the horizon of trees and bushes. 

It was eerie quiet, no breeze rattled the branches, no animal made any noise, even your horses were completely still and silent. The quiet was deafening. 

And then, you heard it. The sound of heavy breathing. Heavy human breathing. It wasn’t your own breath, or even Connor’s - who was still so unmoving you could have mistaken him for a corpse - no, it was someone, or something, else. But yet it sounded as if the person was standing right next to you, in fact, you swore you could feel the warm ticklish breath along your neck, but that had to just be a freak breeze, right?

“Connor?” you called out, your voice quivering. You wanted to reach out to him, for him to tell you everything was okay, to be told that it was all just the dark playing tricks on the two of you, but you were too frightened to even move. 

He didn’t respond again, but simply reached for your horse’s reins, and spurred his into action, your horse following behind his as he raced the two of you out of the forest.

The outlines of trees and brush whipped by your face as the horses ran, your horse trying desperately to keep up with Connor’s as he towed it by the reins. You held on to the horse’s mane, praying that you wouldn’t fall off in the process of trying to leave this accursed forest behind. As you kept your head down and watched the forest disappear from your vision bit by bit, you swore you could see a shadow of a figure stalking through the treetops, following the two of you with surprising speed. 

Soon the two of you were past the trees, the forest now behind you, along with whatever else lie creeping in its dark shadows. Connor stared back at the forest, seemingly calm, at least on the outside, while you on the other hand were still trying to calm your frazzled nerves. 

“Connor? What was that?” you asked between deep breaths, trying not to let your fear show through your voice. He was silent for a moment before he started to explain.

“There are tales of creatures in these woods. Dark, evil things. I did not want to give it a chance to attack.” he told you, but the explanation did not help the situation at all. It made your heart race faster than before. What “creatures” were in these woods? And if they were so terrifying that they even made Connor run, a man who was not easily spooked, then why weren’t they being dealt with? Why let them continue to stalk this forest?

You looked back at the tree line that Connor was staring at, peering into the darkness. Whatever light came from the moon overhead was swallowed by the overpowering shadows. It looked like the mouth of Hell, what with the darkened tree branches taking on the form of teeth, the gaping black pit in the center. But if you truly stared, and maybe, perhaps squinted a bit, you swore you could see two orange eyes and a mouth full of sharp teeth staring back at you. 

“What are these creatures, Connor? Can they be dealt with?” you asked, but your words fell on deaf ears. 

“Connor?” you called out, turning back around to look for your companion. But he was gone, nowhere in sight. No trail of footprints, no horse, no nothing. He and his horse seemed to have just vanished. 

Which meant that you were now alone, in the dark, with whatever creature lie waiting just beyond the trees, hiding out in the darkness, waiting for the right moment to strike its prey.

[dumfanting]

Technical Assistance

AO3 Link

Rating: E, explicit, minors DNI

Warnings: tight spaces, upskirt, breast/nipple play, breeding, fingering, handjobs, PiV, soft Dom Tech

Notes: established polycule, female reader, second person PoV, present tense

2944 words

This was another lightning strike/ brick-to-the-face idea from a few weeks ago, I only found the energy to write it the day before yesterday. To avoid any confusion, this is a non-canon ‘what if’ scenario in the Same Heart universe.

F! Reader/ Tech (and Crosshair and Echo)

You help Tech understand something.

The squad has some time off on Coruscant between missions, and Hunter and Wrecker have set off for 79s ahead of everyone else. You change into a little black dress and you’re about to catch up to them alongside Echo and Crosshair, but as soon as you head for the ship's hatch, you’re surprised to hear Tech calling your name from the cockpit. He’s asking if you can stay and help him with something.

“Oh! You don’t need Echo?” you say, slightly confused.

“You have the smallest hands on this ship and neither of us can reach what needs work,” he says, his voice getting a little louder as he walks into the room.

You glance down the gangplank at Crosshair and Echo, and when they both shrug, you do the same and decide to hang around the ship as Tech needs you. You tell them that you’ll catch up, turn away, and don’t notice the pointed smirk the two of them share before walking away.

A little while later in the cockpit, you’ve kicked your heels off and your skirt has ridden up high onto your hips. You groan loudly. “I’m so close!” you say, flat on your back.

Tech watches you reach up into the underside of a control panel, looking mildly amused. You’ve been trying to snake your arm and twist your wrist around the guts of the panel for the last ten minutes. You stretch yourself up a little bit further, and your fingertips brush over a bare bolt. “Yes, I think I-,” you say but interrupt yourself with a loud curse as you drop the nut for the fifth time.

“Do you require assistance?” Tech asks, standing over you, his feet on either side of your hips.

“I’m supposed to be helping you, remember?” you say with a huff. “I can’t see anything down here!”

“Very well,” he says, and you hear the shuffling sound of him slipping onto his knees and pressing himself against you, the headlamp of his goggles pointed up into the mess of wires and metal that you’ve been struggling with. You glance over at him and jerk your head to the side, prompting him to move even closer to you.

You shimmy a little into a better position, turning onto your side as Tech slides closely behind you. You grab the nut again and reach back into the panel, directing Tech where to point the light for you. It’s a tight fit for the both of you, and he’s practically spooning you, his warm breath breezing over the back of your neck.

If you hadn’t been so aggravated by the task at hand, you’d be enjoying the close encounter. You stretch a little further, grunting as you support yourself with your other elbow, and as you do, Tech presses even closer to you, breathing heavily into your ear, no doubt affected by the heat of the small area. You reach the bare bolt, and with a final stretch, twist the nut onto it until it seats into place. “Kriff, that took long enough,” you say, relaxing your arm and rolling onto your back. You wipe a trickle of sweat off of your forehead with the back of your hand and sigh, aggravated but glad that it’s done.

“Thank you,” Tech says, then hands you another nut. “But there’s more than one I’m afraid.”

You exaggeratedly whine, but prop yourself back up on your elbow. Tech taps your shoulder and looks directly above him, shining the light on another bare bolt. You roll onto your other side, ignoring that the two of you are now chest to chest and closer than you’ve ever been before.

You glance up into the panel. “This one looks easier,” you say, relieved, and prop yourself up a third time, your arm stretching above the two of you. This bolt is much easier to reach, and you manage to seat the nut onto it within seconds. “Anything else you need from me?” you say, rolling onto your back again, vaguely aware that Tech is still quite close to you.

“Not exactly, but I do have a question for you, if you don’t mind me asking. I’m hoping you can help me understand something,” he says.

“Sure, what’s on your mind?” you ask, wondering what in the galaxy the goggled genius could possibly have to ask you for clarity on.

“I don’t mean to pry, but you’ve committed to both Echo and Crosshair, yes?” he says, catching you off guard.

“Yeah… what about them?” you ask, slightly confused.

“Is it not customary to have just one partner?” he continues.

“Usually, but not everybody conforms to that, it depends on culture and a lot of other things,” you say, relaxing a little. You’ve been wondering when Tech would finally ask about the agreement the three of you have made.

“Surely the interpersonal relationships between you all complicate matters?” he asks.

You’re more aware of how close he is to you and the way his breath fans over your pulse. “It does. It takes a lot of work and communication,” you say, doing a fair job of keeping your breathing even.

“Is it worth the extra effort?” Tech says. “I’m having a hard time grasping this.”

You pause and think for a few seconds before speaking again. “The basic instinct of all species is to multiply and pass on their genes, right?” you say.

Tech nods, and a quick glance at his face tells you he’s intrigued.

“Well, breeding is more likely to be successful with more than one uh, sire.” You say, then clear your throat. “There’s obviously more to it for us than that, but-,” you continue, but he cuts you off.

“I see. If I may, have you considered bringing in another sire?” he asks. He’s definitely closer than he was before, to the point where you can feel the edges of his armor cutting into your exposed thigh.

“Ooh, careful Tech,” you say with a chuckle. You turn back onto your side to face him. “Phrase that differently and I’ll go after you next,” you say.

“How shall I phrase it then?” Tech says, boldly pressing further into you. He slides his hand from your knee upwards under your skirt, stopping himself mere inches away from your core. His codpiece rubs against your pelvis and you’re thankful Hunter isn’t around to hear your thundering heartbeat. You meet his eyes and see an unfamiliar but incredibly exciting lust in them, making your breath catch in your throat. He moves his other hand to the back of your neck, holding you firmly as he pulls your head back, exposing your throat to him. You have no idea where this side of Tech had been hiding but you were thrilled to discover it. A familiar heat blooms between your legs, you swallow loudly, and he shifts upward enough to softly speak directly into your ear.

“I hold no objections to breeding you,” he says, and you shiver. “If that is what you want,” he says, his fingers moving no further.

Your breath catches in your throat again and it takes two attempts for you to speak. “Dank ferrik Tech, it is now!” you say, and no sooner had the words left your lips, he’s crashing his own into yours.

You gasp into him and he greedily drinks up your every sound. Your tongues meet and you hum as the two of you taste each other for the first time. Tech pulls away from you, slides out from under the console and gets to his feet, and you quickly do the same, eager to feel his hands on you again. Feeling slightly dizzy, you watch as Tech takes his seat in the pilots chair, raises an eyebrow at you and pats his lap. You immediately obey, straddling him as you kiss him deeply again. As you do, he slips his gloves off, and you gasp at the sensation of his bare hands sliding up your legs and moving to your hips.

“No panties? Efficient,”’ he says, smirking at you with a hungry look in his eyes, making you shiver a second time. He leans forward and nips along your neck while you make quick work of removing his codpiece and freeing his cock from his under armor. With no preamble, you take it into your hand and feel him throb against your palm. It’s Tech’s turn to gasp; your soft hands and steady strokes are beyond what he imagined. You start to slide backwards off of him and into your knees, but a hard smack to your ass convinces you to stay put. You moan and return to your position, your strokes and speed never faltering.

Tech groans your name, and the sound sends another rocket of wet heat to your pussy. You look at him through your lashes and bite your lip, silently asking him to touch you. One of his hands slips back out from under your skirt, and he moves to your shoulder, slipping one of the thin straps of your dress to the side and exposing a bare breast to him. He lurches forward, and a few things happen at once. He pulls you even closer to him, making your knees hit the back of the seat while at the same time taking your nipple into his mouth and circling his strong tongue around the stiffening bud. Not content to leave it at that, he also moves the hand that remained under your skirt upwards even further, his deft fingers finally exploring your wet heat.

He drags the pad of his thumb in a circular motion around your clit and you moan. The moan turns into a high-pitched whine when he slides two of his long fingers into you, exploring you while his thumb and tongue never stop moving. It’s all so much at once, and you find yourself teetering on the edge of an orgasm already. You grip his chin and pull his head up even to yours and kiss him feverishly. With a low growl that further stokes your arousal, he wordlessly withdraws his fingers from you, and you whine at the abrupt loss of contact.

“Tell me what you want, mesh’la,” he says, his voice calm, but you can tell he’s barely restraining himself. You whine again and try to grind yourself down onto his cock but he firmly stops you. “Tell me you want me,” he purrs into your ear, and your pride takes a backseat.

“Fuck me Tech, please! I need you, I need to cum for you, I-,” you say, whining, but he cuts you off by suddenly grasping the hem of your skirt and pushing it up over your hips to your waist. He grabs your hips hard enough to bruise, and sheathes himself fully into you in one fluid motion. You gasp and cling onto him, unsure if you’d be able to stay upright on your own.

“You want it?” he asks, and you whimper again. Another hard smack to your ass loosens the word “please” out of you, and only a second later, he’s holding you in place as he pistons himself upward and into you. The new feeling of being filled by him is almost too much, and you barely stop your eyes from rolling back into your head. One of his hands grips the back of your neck again while the other returns downward and works your clit as he fucks into you. He drags your head next to his and begins to nip at your neck harder this time, pausing every now and then to speak.

“Do you- fuck -have any idea how long I’ve dreamt of this?” he says, his voice still husky as he breathes down your neck. “Dreamt of you, in this exact position? Kriff you feel amazing,” he says, and you shiver yet again. You take it upon yourself to take some of the work off of him, steadily switching between slow grinds and fast bounces on his cock. You feel yourself on the precipice of orgasm again, and you hold either side of his jaw and crash your lips into his.

“I’m so fucking close Tech, please,” you beg. He startles you by suddenly pulling out of you, holding you to his chest as he stands and then kneels onto the floor. He lays you on your back, lines himself back up, and quickly resumes thrusting into you. The change in angle drags you even closer. When he shifts, holding his hands against the backs of your knees, he leans forward and pushes your legs open and your knees about even with your head. A breeding press, you realize with a loud moan. You hold your legs in place, allowing Tech to free his hands and grab you by the shoulders, yanking you downward onto his cock with each hard thrust of his hips.

He grits his teeth and leans down even with your ear again. “F-fuck, I’m going to fill you up. You’ll be so full of my seed that it’ll leak like a fucking faucet when you stand up,” he growls. The thought of it finally pushes you over the edge, and you cum, hard, while calling his name.

“Maker, I could listen to that all day and never tire of it,” he says, and his hips stutter as he speaks. His muscles lock, as do yours, and you feel him twitching inside of you as he cums. You clamp down around him, milking as much of it out of him as possible until he finally moans your name. Immediately after, your bodies go limp and the two of you collapse into a sweaty but satisfied heap on the floor, gasping for breath as he remains inside of you.

Outside, unbeknownst to you, Echo and Crosshair are standing a few dozen yards away from the ship, watching it intensely.

Echo glances at a nearby chrono on a wall. “I think that’s been enough time,” he says, and starts to walk back.

“I’ll bet you twenty credits that he’s still not said anything,” Crosshair says skeptically as he moves to catch up.

Within a few seconds, the two reach the open hatchway of the ship and quietly step inside. They both can hear the raspy breathing from you two as you come down from the highs of your simultaneous peaks. Crosshair glances into the bunks and sees nothing. Echo moves toward the cockpit and Crosshair follows closely.

After only two steps, Echo stops and looks over his shoulder at the sniper with a smug expression.

“Bullshit,” Crosshair hisses, and walks further into the cockpit, catches sight of what’s happened at his feet, and freezes as his jaw drops. He can’t fully tell at this angle, but somewhere within the tangle of your arms and legs, it looks like Tech is still fully sheathed inside of you.

Echo laughs loudly, getting your attention. Tech freezes, as do you while you both look up at the two of them. Echo grasps Crosshair by the shoulder and steers him back into the main area of the ship, then also exits the cockpit, leaving you and Tech alone again. After a beat of awkward silence, he reluctantly shifts backwards and pulls out of you. As he does, you can feel the cum he’d filled you with leak out of you. You sit up without thinking, and it puddles on the floor. You glance up at his expression as he watches this and suppress a laugh. Tech looks like he’s just met the Maker himself.

You stretch your back, looking around the area as you do, and spot something small and metallic on the floor. You pick it up and find that it’s another nut. Tech, having tucked himself back into his under armor, leans forward and takes it from you. He retrieves a tool of some kind from the pile you’d both pushed to the side, then uses it to seat the nut into place on a third bolt with no effort whatsoever. You stare at him and shake your head, laughing incredulously.

“You know Tech, if you really wanted me that badly, you didn’t need to set anything up like this,” you say, getting to your feet and ignoring the feeling of his release dripping down your thighs. You grasp his forearm and pull him upright so that he’s also standing. You link your hands together behind his neck as his hands rest on your hips again. You kiss him, softly this time, and Tech is startled by an unfamiliar swooping sensation in his chest.

“What should I have done then?” he asks quietly.

You chuckle. “Oh my clueless genius,” you say. “All you had to do was ask.”

The chuckle deepens into a laugh; you didn’t know Tech’s face could get so red. You kiss his cheek and tell him you’ll be taking a shower, if he wants to follow you.

You quickly duck into the bunks to grab a change of clothes, and find Crosshair and Echo both staring at you and smirking. Your cheeks flush, but you otherwise don’t acknowledge them before finding refuge in the refresher.

Tech also makes a stop in the bunks, shucking off his armor before he joins you. He can feel their eyes on him. He sighs and turns around. “I believe I understand you all now,” he says.

“Took you long enough,” Echo says with a smirk. “Twenty credits,” he reminds Crosshair.

Crosshair, looking gobsmacked, shakes his head at Tech. “I didn’t think you had the guts,” he says, “and I don’t have twenty credits!”

Taglist: @kaminocasey @madameminor @grievouus @jennamelinda12

To be tagged in future Tech posts, reply to this post.

[kingofsummer93]

Oooo could I request number 7 for Elucien 👀💕

Taylor Swift lyric prompts

I Miss You Too Much to Be Mad Anymore

He had pissed her off somehow. That much was abundantly clear, but for the life of him Lucien could not figure out what he could possibly have done. They were months away from their anniversary, Valentine’s Day, or her birthday. He hadn’t missed either of her sisters’ birthdays. As far as he could remember he hadn’t canceled plans with her to hang out with his friends, and they hadn’t argued about anything recently.

But Elain was mad at him. Even from hundreds of miles away he could tell. Lucien could read her moods more easily than he could read his own.

She was normally so excited to go on her research trips for her job as landscape designer at the botanical garden, but this week something was off. Usually his phone would have been pinging all week long with incoming photos and videos of various local flora from wherever she was visiting, accompanied by detailed descriptions and arguments for whether they would survive or not in their climate. At night she always face-timed from the hotel, sleepy but bright-eyed.

She’d been gone for five days, and other than a quick message from the airport saying that she had made it, he had barely heard from her. Lucien might have thought she’d been abducted, were it not for the short, punctuated messages she sent when he inquired about her day or asked if he could call. When Elain used periods in her text messages Lucien always knew he was in trouble.

He just needed to figure out what he had done.

He thumbed a quick message, bracing himself for radio silence as he pressed send.

Another successful day in paradise? Hope you’re having fun. Miss you. Give me a call if you can!

Flirtation usually worked when she was cranky. A few neck kisses, (bonus points if they were from behind), some whispered words in her ear, a well-timed heated look, and she’d be smiling and bright-eyed again. But without the physical aspect at his disposal he’d have to be more creative. Unless….

He hesitated, and then quickly typed another message.

Our bed is so cold without you

Lucien took the stairs two at a time up to their bedroom, discarding his t-shirt along the way. Feeling supremely foolish, he chucked off his pants and slid under the covers, draping them low over his hips. He schooled his features into his best devilish grin, the one he knew she couldn’t resist, and snapped a selfie.

See? So lonely without you…

His phone rang less than a minute later. He chuckled, breathing a sigh of relief as Elain’s sun-rosy cheeks filled his screen.

“Hi love,” he said.

Elain was biting her lip in the way he knew meant she was trying to keep herself from smiling.

“Hi.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Of course,” she said, not quite meeting his gaze. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Lucien fixed her with a searching look. “You’ve been avoiding me. Did something happen on your trip?”

Elain sighed. “No. Nothing like that.”

So definitely something he did.

“Are you mad at me? Did I do something?”

Elain seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then she sighed again, finally looking at him directly. “No. I miss you too much to be mad anymore.”

Lucien’s stomach lurched with a pang of guilt. “What did I do?” he asked, sitting up in bed. “Just tell me.”

“It’s nothing,” she mumbled. “Just forget it. It’s stupid.”

“Elain, please. I don’t think anything you have to say it stupid.”

She averted her gaze again, and then mumbled something unintelligible.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said, you didn’t hide anything. In my suitcase. But it’s fine. Like I said, it’s stupid, I just missed you…”

A weight lifted off Lucien’s shoulders as realization hit him. The first time Elain had gone on a business trip he had slipped one of his t-shirts and a note into her luggage, as a joke. So you won’t forget about me, the note had said. The tradition had stuck, and every time she went away he hid something in her suitcase. A piece of clothing, a book, a dried flower.

Lucien grinned, shaking his head at his wife affectionately. “Love. Have you worn any socks this week?”

Elain frowned. “What?”

“Did you wear any socks this week?” he repeated, holding in a laugh.

Elain’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. She dropped the phone to the bed, judging from his sudden view of her hotel room ceiling. He could hear the sound of rustling as she dug through the contents of her suitcase. There was a gasp of delight, and then her face filled his screen again, along with a crumpled piece of paper.

“You made me a playlist!”

“It’s on my Spotify. I know it’s not as romantic as an old school mix tape, but…”

“I love it,” she said, pressing the paper to her chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too, silly.”

“I’m sorry I was grumpy.”

Lucien smiled devilishly. “However will you make it up to me?”

Elain’s cheeks turned pink as her gaze slid down his bare chest. “That depends. What are you wearing?”

“Excuse me!” he retorted with mock affront. “Why should you get a reward?” As he spoke he kicked off his boxers as surreptitiously as he could.

“Because I asked first,” she said simply, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Now show me.”

“Your wish is my command, my love.”

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed): @areyoudreaminof @hallway5 @tuzna-pesma-snova @labellefleur-sauvage @separatist-apologist

[shivunin]

Yay prompts! :D 7 for Maria and Fenris?

Hey, thank you! This one was cute c:

(Hug Prompts for 7. pulling someone into a hug)

Sportsmanship

(Maria Hawke/Fenris | 585 Words | No warnings)

They were saying goodbye for the night. 

Or—they were trying to, anyway. Fenris had told Hawke that he was going back to his manor for the evening, so he was saying goodbye. He was. It was no matter that they’d been standing before her door for half an hour now.

“I would’ve won if she hadn’t cheated,” Maria murmured, her face buried in his chest. “Damned pirate. I’ll get her next time, just you watch.”

“I do not doubt it,” Fenris told her solemnly.

“I swear she has pouches built into her boots.” 

“Likely so,” he agreed. 

Hawke was warm and soft, even through her armor. When he held her like this, he could smell the faint spice of the oils she used in her hair. All he needed to do was tell her he wanted to stay and she would let him; he could tell her he wanted to go directly to sleep and she would be just as delighted to have his company.

“And another thing,” she said, lifting her head so abruptly that Fenris had to jerk back to avoid being struck on the chin. “There is only one of each card in the deck! Maker, I didn’t even notice that she played another serpent—”

“Hawke,” Fenris said. “You also brought a second deck of cards.”

“It’s about the principle of the thing,” Hawke said firmly, tilting her chin up. “It’s about sportsmanship. If Varric hadn’t searched my pockets…” 

“I see,” Fenris said, fighting a smile and losing. “And what else?”

“It’s about—stop laughing!” she said, and Fenris broke into an actual laugh, still such an unfamiliar feeling in so many ways. 

“You are horribly rude,” she informed him, the corners of her mouth twitching. “I will not stand here and be mocked, messere. I am going inside.” 

She loosened her arms and walked away, nose in the air. She’d made it halfway to the door before Fenris darted after her and took her wrist. 

“Wait,” he said, and she gave him a skeptical look over her shoulder. 

“You may hide your extra deck in my belt,” he told her, still smiling, and tugged her closer until he could embrace her again. She looped her arms around his waist readily enough, still looking up at him. 

“Promise?” she asked. 

“Of course. I would advise you not to get caught this time.” 

“Unbelievable, the things I must endure,” she said, shaking her head. “I am outraged. Outraged, I say.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Fenris said, and kissed her. 

They hung there for a long time, swallowed in the golden light of the lantern beside her door, and only let go at last so she could take a deep breath. 

“Aren’t you tired?” Maria asked. 

“I can manage.”

“Weren’t you going home tonight?”

“Yes.” 

She pressed her forehead to his, looking at him for a moment, before turning her head and kissing his cheek. 

“If you change your mind, you have the key,” she told him. 

“I do not have a—” Fenris began, frowning, but she backed away and smiled and he felt the unfamiliar shape tucked into his belt. 

“Goodnight, Fenris,” she told him, grinning, and opened her door. 

“Goodnight, Hawke,” he said, wrapping his fingers around the strip of metal. 

She peered at him through the crack in the door until it swung all the way shut, the lock sounding a second later. 

Fenris shook his head, still smiling faintly, and held the key in his fist all the way home.

[hitmanexchange]

Welcome to Hitman Holiday Hoarders, a gifting fest for the Hitman fandom! 🎁

Detailed schedule and rules under the cut!

Schedule

December 6 – Sign-Ups Open

December 31 – Sign-Ups Close

January 6 – Gift Reveals (16:59 UTC)

January 13 – Creator Reveals (16:59 UTC)

All times are 23:59 UTC unless otherwise specified.

The Basics

Hitman Holiday Hoarders is a gifting fest in the style of Fandom Giftbox and Fandom Trees.

Gifts are required to be drabble length (100 words) at minimum. Longer works are of course welcome.

What is a gifting fest?

Participants sign up by adding a prompt with their characters, relationships, the highest rating they're comfortable receiving, and any DNWs (Do Not Want). Others then fill their empty gift basket with short fics, and everyone gets to open their presents when the collection is revealed on January 6th.

You are not expected to write a gift for someone else if you sign up, but you're of course welcome to do so. This fest is for everyone who would like to receive a gift fic, but can't participate in exchanges for whatever reason. This event is for everyone who wants to read Hitman fanfiction and would like to receive a little gift fic. It's also for everyone who wants to write Hitman fanfiction and enjoys writing little treats with no required reciprocation.

Requests

How many requests can I add?

You can place one request under this tree. The writer(s) who choose(s) to write a ficlet for you can pick

If you’d like to suggest a specific scenario, add it to your request’s description. Try to find the right balance between an interesting idea that gives authors something to work with and a too restrictive request. You can also specify if you'd like to receive cute fluff, for example, or which characters you'd like in your fic.

You may add up to four fandoms (minimum: one) to your request. The fandoms to choose from are the Hitman video games and the other canon mediums, namely the two tie-in novels "Enemy Within" and "Damnation", and the comic book series "Agent 47: Birth of the Hitman".

Characters and Ships

You can add the characters and ships you'd like to see to the optional details of your request. When asking for relationships between characters, please make sure to use A/B for romantic or sexual interactions (including queerplatonic) and A & B for platonic or familial interactions to avoid misunderstandings.

Rating

Please pick the highest rating you're comfortable receiving. Ratings lower than the one you picked are implied; if you chose Mature, you may also receive a fic that was rated General Audiences or Teen & Up.

If you're a minor, please don't request fics that were rated Mature or Explicit. Please don't add to your request or your letter that you're a minor, we're going by basic internet safety rules here.

Fics with a higher rating than the one you chose will not be revealed until the issue is resolved.

DNW and Letters

You also have the option to add a link to a letter. These can be very useful to give your writer ideas for possible gifts. It can also be invaluable for telling them what you do not want at all.

If you have anything you Do Not Want (DNW), it must be in the request directly to be enforceable. Authors should respect the Do Not Want list; however, the requester should not abuse it to try and force the author into a corner. Do Not Wants that appear only in an external letter will not be enforced.

Please word your DNWs neutrally, and please don't explain why you don't want to see it in your gift.

Am I guaranteed a gift?

No, this is a gifting fest, not a gift exchange. Gifts are not guaranteed, but we can work together to make sure everyone who puts a request under the tree receives a gift.

Can I stay anonymous?

You can add your request anonymously, and you can choose to stay anonymous. In that case, the fic(s) written for you will not be gifted to you, but only be a prompt fill in response to your request.

Required Commenting

If you received a gift fic, even if you also wrote a fic for someone else, please try to leave a positive comment on your gift before creator reveals.

Giving kudos and sharing the gift you received on social media or to your blog, and adding it to your rec list/public bookmarks is also encouraged, but not a requirement.

If you can't comment during the anonymous period, please do so as soon as possible after creator reveals.

Participants who did not comment on their received gift fic will not be able to participate in future gifting fests or prompt fests until they caught up with any missing comments.

I don't have an AO3 account!

There's still enough time to request an invite by joining the queue. If you learned about this event too late and can't get an invite before December 25th, please contact me and I'll help you out.

Prompt Fills

Minimum Requirements

Since this is a gifting fest and a busy time for everyone, the minimum requirements are intentionally low: 100 words, which is a drabble. If you want to write more, you absolutely can! There is no maximum wordcount.

Prompt fills need to honour the requester's DNW (Do Not Want) and the maximum rating they chose. Works need to be newly published for this exchange and created by you in good faith. AI-generated works are not welcome.

Posting

In order to post, go to your AO3 claims page and click the "fill" button on your claimed prompt. That will take you to a new-works form with the prompt already tickied. If the request you picked was not anonymous (or is not anonymous anymore by January 6th), please gift your work to the person whose request you picked. You might need to add the username yourself.

Deadline

There is no hard deadline, but since this is a holiday themed gifting fest, please post your work to the collection before work reveals on January 6th. The collection will stay open, and you can post additional works both during the anonymous period and afterwards.

Anonymity

Works stay anonymous until creator reveals, the Saturday after work reveals.

Please don't reveal your identity before that. Don't add your work to one of your existing series, add a revealing author's note, or discuss your work on social media. The anonymous period is part of the fun. You're free to do all these things after the creators are revealed! Logged-in comment replies to your own work will not reveal your identity; you'll show as "Anonymous Creator" until work reveals. Feel free to reply to the comments you receive during the anon period.

Multi-Fills

You may claim a request that has already been claimed by someone else. Since this is a gifting fest without assignments, please try to also claim a request that hasn't been claimed yet, to make sure everyone who participates receives at least one gift.

Be friendly!

Make sure that your prompts and your fanworks do not contain any hostile elements towards people you disagree with in any part of the fanwork (title, tags, summary, author's notes, body text). Refrain from adding DNI notes.

If you shame or harass other participants, or if there are signs that you have deliberately caused problems in multiple exchanges, the mod will delete your signup.

[karmas-chameleon]

Gonna post my last short here too

This one is for the prompt 'dinner date' and 'double date'!

It wasn't since our first date that I'd had a dinner quite so uncomfortable. It wasn't because of me this time, nor anything Manfred did - not directly, at least.

No, the cause of my discomfort as I waited for my meal was a man in a booth opposite ours. He was gawking at us, and I suspected I knew why. Perhaps it was my fault for asking my husband to take me out to a fast food place, or fast casual restaurant, or whatever it was. I just wanted to have a cheap burger and a shake for the first time in ages. But it inadvertently led us to share a space with someone I'd never otherwise dine with.

I pulled my gaze away from him and back to Manfred. “Well, this is awkward,” I grumbled.

“What is it? You seem rather distracted.”

“Don't look now, but-” I glanced over at the booth for just a moment, “at about your, er…four o’clock, I think, there's a guy that keeps staring this way.”

Manfred turned and craned his neck near instantly as I spoke, and the man averted his eyes. He looked back to me with a sigh.

“Pay no attention to narrow-minded fools like that, my dear. Our relationship doesn't require the approval of strangers.”

“Um…I don't think he's staring because of the age difference. Probably not, anyway. He's a defense attorney, Manny.”

“Oh.” Manfred looked back over his shoulder. “He is? You'll have to forgive me, I can't keep these attorneys’ faces in my head for long.”

“The trial was last week!”

“Bah, they blend together regardless. Defense attorneys all look the same, really.”

“...Uh-huh.”

“Well if you'd like me to give him a good talking-to, I wouldn't mind it at all. Anyone who dares make you uncomfortable deserves it, and the fact that this fool is a-”

The arrival of a tray of food interrupted Manfred's words, but the moment the server left, he stood from our booth with his cane in hand.

“Perfect timing. Now, you enjoy your food, and I'll take care of this.”

“Wait, Manfred!” I stood up and followed after him to try and avoid a scene and potential expulsion from the restaurant. “You really don't have to do anything, we can just move to another-”

But it was too late, and he'd reached the table of the defense attorney and the one he was dining with. Surprisingly, he was also a familiar face - and another attorney. Not only an ordinary one either, like this man who my husband recently destroyed in court, this was the defense attorney, the one who managed to break his forty year long winning streak.

Fortunately, it didn't seem that Manfred could tell him apart from any other person of his profession. But this man certainly recognized Manfred.

“Chief Prosecutor von Karma,” he said with a nod, before turning back to his fellow defense attorney. “Wright, I told you not to be so obvious with your staring. Now look at what you've done.”

The man across from him (Wright, evidently) scratched his spiky hair and gave us a sheepish look. “Uh, sorry about that. Miles was just telling me a bit about you. I…didn't expect to see you in a place like this.”

Manfred seemed at least somewhat disarmed by the immediate apology, but he was still glowering down at the two attorneys with his arms crossed. “My wife insisted on it. She also informed me of your gawking, so if you're going to hand out apologies, you ought to give her one. And you,” he scowled at Miles, “should apologize for gossiping about me behind my back. I'd like to know exactly what kind of nonsense you're spreading.”

“I'm sorry,” Miles said. “I was merely telling my colleague about your career. Nothing terribly negative, I assure you-”

“Nothing negative, huh? You sure used the words ‘vicious’ and ‘ruthless’ a lot…” Wright grumbled under his breath.

“Perhaps. But I'm not sure that the Chief Prosecutor sees those as particularly negative qualities. Pity isn't very valuable when you're dealing with criminals, is it?” He shot Manfred a smile, and I could picture him acting with just as much charisma in a trial. Successfully defusing my husband took a great deal of skill - or an unskilled wife. “I was also talking about our encounter in the courtroom, of course.”

Manfred stared at him blankly, and I was entirely sure then that he had no clue who he was speaking to. “You’re a defense attorney as well?”

“Ah…yes, I am,” he replied, equally dumbfounded.

“Wonderful company we've got here, hmm?” my husband muttered to me. “Dear, why don't we take our food and eat somewhere more…pleasant?”

I sighed, ready to take my tray and move outside, or behind a wall, or any spot out of view of Manfred's apparent foes. But the very man who ended his streak was also the one to offer an olive branch.

“Neither of us will bother you further, I promise you that. We may fight in the courtroom, but there's no reason that has to extend here. We could even share the table.” Miles looked across the table and smiled. “Consider it a double date.”

“Date?” Wright stared at his fellow attorney with the same stunned look he'd given our table at the beginning of all of this. “I thought you said this was a ‘friendly meeting between coworkers’.”

I giggled, prompting looks from both of them for a reason it would take far too long to explain. But maybe I did have the time after all.

“Manny, why don't we sit with them?”

He frowned at me. “Are you asking me for reasons, or permission? I have plenty of reasons.”

I was already heading back to our old table to fetch the tray holding our milkshake and a hopefully not cold burger, bringing it back to the attorneys’ table and setting it down by an equally grumpy Manfred and spiky-haired attorney. I sat down across from the latter, and stuck two straws into our milkshake to share it with the former.

Manfred reluctantly sat down next to Wright and drank a bit of milkshake. He looked to his side and seemed to be at least somewhat appeased upon seeing he wasn't the only miserable one.

“Now, Manfred and I had our first date kinda unexpectedly. It was also a dinner date between coworkers, but a bit different than this.” I grinned at him as I picked up my burger. “Why don't you tell our new friends about it, Manny?”

“They are not friends. Never.”

“For once, I agree with him,” Wright muttered.

“I can at least tell you that the place we dined at was of far better quality than this hovel. Better food, better ambiance, and not a defense attorney in sight.”

“None that you were aware of, at least,” Miles commented.

“...Hmph. As I was saying, it was a pleasant evening, which makes me highly doubtful that any of you were there. We met outside, and my recently hired assistant asked me the strangest question…”

I smiled with a mouthful of burger as my husband told the story of our awkward first date. However uncomfortable I had been in the moment, it was part of our history now, and I considered the future of the pair sitting beside us - would they share a tale of an odd first date, with a grumpy old prosecutor and a young woman trying to make him a bit friendlier? I hoped so.

[vexing-imogen]

seal my heart (and break my pride)

"She told me she was proud of me."

Imogen's voice is a quiet thing on any given day, and tonight it's almost lost to the winds of the Hellcatch. Were Orym not so very close to her (always the protector Lita had gently teased, watching him interact with the Hells, just like Dad), were he not able to read lips, he suspects her words would have been lost to the night.

He simply hums in response. A question, but one she doesn't need to answer if she isn't up to it.

"My mother," she clarifies, and he can just see the shine of fresh tears on her cheeks in the dusk. "It was the last thing she said to me before she-" She swallows hard. "Before she died."

It's the first time she's actually said the words out loud. They'd all watched Liliana sacrifice herself in the eleventh hour, teleporting directly into the path of the blade that Otohan was about to sink into Imogen's back. She'd died in her daughter's arms with no chance of resurrection. (Not that they would have wasted their resources on trying; not for her. Not unless Imogen had explicitly requested it. All of them, with the exception of Letters, had agreed that the gesture was too little too late.)

Imogen has been a shell of herself since. It's different than it was with Laudna. She'd had hope to cling to then, a goal to fulfill. She has none of that now. He also suspects that it's difficult to mourn someone you barely knew, who turned out to be so very different from what you imagined.

"Yeah?" he prompts gently.

She laughs, a hollow, broken thing that echoes in the desert. "And I felt absolutely nothin'," she confesses. "Here's my mother tellin' me everything I'd ever wanted to hear; that she loved me, that she was proud of me, how I was the very best part of her life. And none of it meant a goddamn thing."

She stares at the marker that Chetney had made. "I just wish..." She finally turns to him. "I wish she were still alive so I wouldn't feel so guilty for bein' mad at her."

Orym lays his hand on her wrist. "You're allowed to be angry, Imogen," he tells her. "One good deed doesn't make up for decades of bad decisions. Not the least of which was abandoning you."

"I don't hate her," she says after a minute. "And a part of me wonders how much of her was still left in there y'know?" She sighs. "But all the stuff she did, all the stuff she was tryin' to do..."

"You can't just forgive and forget?" he guesses.

"Yeah." Imogen pulls the marker out of the ground, traces over her mother's name. "Maybe it's best if..."

She doesn't finish her thought. The smell of ozone is all the warning Orym gets before a bolt of lightning strikes the wood in Imogen's hands, shattering it into pieces. He gets his shield up just in time to avoid a face full of splinters.

Imogen isn't quite as lucky. Her face and chest are a mess of bloody scrapes. Orym winces as she pulls one particularly large splinter out of her cheek. He digs a healing potion out of his pack and hands it to her.

"Feel better?" he asks.

Her lower lip quivers, fresh tears making even more of a bloody mess of her face. "No."

Eventually, she tucks the largest piece of wood away in her bag; the piece with part of Liliana's name still legible on the charred surface. She drinks the potion, uses her magic to clean herself up, and then turns to him.

"Don't tell Chetney?"

He takes her hand, can feel the static electricity still buzzing through her fingertips. "I wouldn't dream of it."