#can't believe there's no tag for them somehow? there should be? how have i never reblogged that scene?

[unma]

Cats

What's not to love about these lovely creatures? Honestly, growing up I was always a dog person (even despite the fact that I was attacked by one when I was young). But then I realized I wouldn't be able to take care of a dog for, well, a buncha reasons, thought about how it would be to have a cat, and thought, yeah, it would be nice to have one. For so many reasons. The eternally lethargic me could never take care of a dog properly. A cat, though? I probably could.

[la-cocotte-de-paris]

hmm i just realised that last post i made (the one about the school memory) would have been the type of thing that would suddenly cross my mind and then i'd tell my (now ex) all about it so then i could share the laughter with someone

[heizours]

CHARACTER BANNERS

summary. when you do not plan to pull for their character banner

tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur

cw. one mention of 'die' (dottore), petty and sulky genshin men (all of them i may say)

feat. xiao, itto, dottore, venti, scaramouche

note. the head picture is how i imagine their reaction ☠️

< back to event m.list

INTRO.

Recently, you've been saving up primogems for an upcoming new character banner that Hoyoverse is planning to release in the next version of the game.

Gosh you were so excited!

It's not like you wanted to pull for the character just because she was attractive. Definitely not.

Even if it takes a lot of time to earn those gems, you were willing to go through it as long as the system better give you that character you are pulling for.

"I can't wait to pull for Navia!"

You squealed in excitement, logging in the game as her banner awaits for you, ignorant of a certain chatacter just eavesdropping around the system.

XIAO.

Xiao's banner was having a rerun along with the release of Navia's, and while he may not brag it out loud, he had some silent expectations that you were going to pull for him again.

After all, he is proud to be your first five star chatacter, and ever since then he has been on your team and never removed.

To hear you say that you're going to pull for Navia instead of him made him grunt quietly as he let out a quiet huff behind the screen.

"...Well, she is a good character" he admitted while grumbling under his breath, crossing his arms by now as he watched you pull and pull for Navia's banner, only getting the four stars but no sign of a five star yet.

Is he...sulking? oh yes, Xiao believes so as there was a tiny slight pout on his as he looked away, trying his best to not be affected by the fact that Navia might show up at your screen anytime now.

So while you're at it, better save some primos to pull for his rerun banner too, you wouldn't want a sulking Xiao, right?

ITTO.

After pulling a few strings and fails in the wishing system, Itto was celebrating his victory after ensuring that his banner would have a rerun.

However, that satisfaction immediately crumbled down the moment he heard you saying that you are pulling for Navia instead for him again.

What makes it even worse, is he felt confident that you were going to pick him, and now...he doesn't know if he should throw a tantrum about it or blame the system that he had a rerun the same time with a new character.

"What?! Hey, what about me?" He yelled out from behind the screen, which of course you couldn't hear, as Itto let out a dramatic gasp by the revelation.

Is he making this a big deal? Yes, Itto is making this a big deal, because after all Navia is also a geo character, of course he would somehow feel intimidated that she would take his place in your team.

Best believe that when you are finish with your pulls, don't be surprised that he would not budge leaving your team— trying to replace him with Navia, even if you are already clicking the remove button!

DOTTORE.

The doctor was confident that you were saving up those primogems for him considering that his banner hasn't been released yet, nor the gaming system haven't made any announcement about his builds, constellation, marketing drip, etc.

Imagine his reaction when he overheard that you were pulling for Navia, and those primogems for her and not his. He could not hide the disbelief that crossed over his face.

He'll recover shortly after, and just laughed it off strainly as we watched you spending every gem you had saved on Navia's banner, no sign of the blondie woman yet showing up on your screen.

"And here, I thought I was what you are waiting for" He mumbled under his breath, gritting his teeth slightly in the process, keeping a forced smile on his face.

He would rather die than admit it, but this revelation had left a big wound on his pride, and he is a millisecond away of just straight up disrupting the system's controls if it means you get to play him.

Of course that would take some time, but he hopes that you're just as amused as him if he keeps joining you on doing your quests out of nowhere that doesn't even involve him in the first place ;)

VENTI.

It took so long for Venti to finally have this moment again, and he was more than glad to show up on your screen, on your first pull, on his rerun banner.

One second he was smiling and all giddy, but as you dropped the statement that you are pulling for Navia like a bomb, his smile freezed, his whole body freezed as he sweatdropped.

Not just freezed, you know those kind of special effects in an anime series when a character messes something up, does something awkward or expected something but gets embarass instead, and suddenly they turn into a whole block of ice? Yeah, something like that.

"..Oh, right her! I've heard a lot about her!" He stated, trying to keep up with his cheerful-go-to persona, as Venti awkwardly scratched the side of his neck while watching you spend those gems on her banner, still no luck of the five star geo character.

He failed to continue showing jolly facade, because now he is sulking at the corner as if it is the end of the world, almost as if a big tub of water was dunk upon him.

Please forgive him if he'll be out of character and maybe acting a little petty on your end for the next few hours or days while playing the game. It's not his fault you didn't also pulled on his rerun!

SCARAMOUCHE/WANDERER.

Scaramouche carries himself with such confidence and prides himself being a part of your team after you pulled on his first banner.

He was smirking with boldness, and eyes closed in satisfaction as he awaits and is all ready for you to pull on his rerun this time. That is until his mouth twitched downward, as he opens his eyes in suspicion right after he heard that you were pulling instead for Navia.

He could not hide the displeased expression painted on his face, as he continues to watch you behind the screen, spend all the primogems you saved up only for her, and like an open book— he doesn't even realized that he is scowling. So far, you're only getting the four stars.

"What about me?" He mumbled under his breath, as he scoffed lightly and by now instead of continuing to frown, there was a slight pout forming on his lips, as he huffed and turned his head away, facing a corner refusing to watch further your pulls on the geo character.

He rejects to believe that he is mopping about as something as this, but his actions says otherwise. He doesn't even know why is so affected by this.

Whether you get Navia or not, make sure you also give him the attention he seeks! We wouldn't want a petty Wanderer disrupting your team's gameplay, no?

[steddieas-shegoes]

you're not jonathan

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'no upside down au' rated t wc: 997 cw: recreational drug use, language tags: meet-ugly turned meet-cute, flirting, somewhat ambiguous ending but we all know what's gonna happen

🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿

Steve was not supposed to be the one picking up the drugs for the party.

He wasn't even going to the party.

But Jonathan couldn't get it from his usual guy, said he was back home in California for the summer, and it wasn't like Robin had a hookup.

Eddie Munson didn't technically deal anymore, but he made exceptions for previous customers, and Jonathan had been a regular during high school.

It wasn't shocking news to Steve, but what was shocking was hearing all these stories about how Eddie didn't even usually meet someone during daylight hours. Except today, apparently.

Steve tripped over another branch, barely caught himself before falling on his face.

"I better get so high off this shit," he said to himself.

"I only sell the good shit."

Steve froze.

Somehow, he'd missed a person walking up to him, probably when he nearly ate dirt.

"Is there any reason a hike is required to get some weed?" Steve asked, brushing his hands on his pants to get the remnants of the tree trunk he saved himself on.

Eddie crossed his arms in front of him, raising an unimpressed brow.

"No. Jonathan suggested the place."

Hard to believe the guy who hated being outside for more than a few minutes would have suggested a half mile trek into the woods, but Steve didn't really care to argue.

"O...kay. Well, I've got the cash if you wanna get this over with," Steve said as he reached into his pockets that were..."Fuck."

He started patting his pockets, his shirt, looking around him at the ground to try to find his wallet.

"Everything okay?" Eddie asked, coming closer.

"I lost my wallet. Shit!"

"Alright, I can help you look, man. It's not a big deal. Gotta be somewhere, right?" Eddie started looking around him, though it was half-hearted at best. "What's it look like?"

"It's brown. Um, leather?" Steve suddenly forgot any other details about his wallet. How convenient.

"Okay, so the color of the ground. Should be easy."

Steve snorted.

Eddie was smirking as he walked the way Steve came, checking the ground around him as he did so.

Steve followed behind, but he was pretty certain they wouldn't find it.

After ten minutes of looking, Eddie sighed.

"We should just smoke a bit. Take the edge off. Ya know?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. I can't pay you until I find my wallet," Steve said as he continued looking, bending down to get a closer look at a spot that seemed like the color of his wallet.

"On the house."

Steve stood straight up.

"Really?"

"Can't really kick ya when you're down, can I? Plus, I planned on smoking after you left anyway. We can share," Eddie shrugged, like it was no big deal.

Steve had never gotten high outside of house parties, the comfort of his own home or a friend's home soothing his anxieties about losing his inhibitions.

But out here? With Eddie? It didn't seem like a smart thing to do.

"Alright," Steve shrugged back.

Eddie must have sensed something about him, though, because he didn't let him take more than three puffs of the joint before he put it out and found a collection of boulders for them to sit on.

"You ever think about how trees are alive but they don't have ears?" Steve asked a minute later.

"Oh, you're that kind of high." Eddie poked his hand, making him look over at him. "You eat today?"

"Maybe. I've been busy. Do you think trees get hungry?" Steve replied.

Eddie searched his face before letting his pinky rest against Steve's hand on the rock.

It felt like fire.

"They do."

"But they don't have pancakes or cheeseburgers. Like, we can't grind it up and put it in the dirt for them, right?" Steve's jaw dropped. "Can we?"

Eddie watched as Steve looked over at some of the trees surrounding them.

"I don't think we can, no."

"A shame. They're missin' out. You know who else is missin' out? Jonathan! He made me come here and he didn't even tell me you had long hair or like the nicest eyelashes. Which is weird because he didn't shut up about anything else about you but he forgot about the eyelashes!" Steve's hand curled around Eddie's pinky. "And you look warm."

Eddie's brows raised.

He wasn't sure who Steve was. Jonathan had just insisted he was cool.

But Jonathan hadn't mentioned that his hair looked softer than silk, or that his eyes were wide and innocent despite his lip curling up in the corner in annoyance.

Jonathan seemed to have left a lot of things out.

"Well, it is summer. It's pretty warm," Eddie gulped. "But you do look a little cold."

"I get cold easy. Robin says it's because I don't eat enough red meat or something. Low irony or something."

Eddie was so endeared.

"I could help you stay warm? Walk you back to your car if you want?"

Eddie did not want that, but he knew Steve probably needed to walk off some of this high before his friends started to worry about him.

"Don't wanna walk," Steve leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder. "My head is walking."

"Should I try to head back and get one of your friends?"

Steve shook his head.

"Be fine in an hour."

"Okay," Eddie put his arm around Steve's shoulder, surprised to find that Steve was shivering. "Hey, you okay?"

"You do have good shit."

"That's not an answer," Eddie chuckled.

"I'm good. Best."

Eddie let him burrow further into his side and waited for his shivering to subside before he suggested heading back to his car again.

Steve still refused, and Eddie didn't have it in him to push.

Not when they were finding shapes in the clouds and he was holding Steve close.

He'd definitely owe Jonathan a lot of product if this went the way he wanted it to.

[lokorum]

what would you say is your favorite jonmichael fic..... im very curious and love to reread anything in that tag

oh but how can i pick only one when they all are so good??? (,,•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ,,)?

aaaaaa can i make the several honorable mentions of the fics that made me scream and roll on the floor?????? pretty please???

scheherazade was one of the first jonmichael fics that i found while going through all of the cher's works because, evidently, they have no fics that are not worth reading!! (i'm sorry if and forty feet down only confirming it!!!)

sleep inertia has one of the best dialogues i ever read!!! the way cruelzy writes michael's lines??? aaaaaaaaa its so delicious and believable and never for a second i thought i'm reading something out of canon?? its just that good. 

carousel is the only one fic (from what i found) that i set in the last season and its adds a lot of layers to that big jonmichael onion that torments my eyes for a while now ldkfjgkdfjg also it's messy?? i mean the whole situation in the fic?? its so humanly complicated and it does not gives you the chance to experience any of the feelings clearly and i love it!! screechfox somehow captured all of the complicated stuff in one fic, blendered it together and for the whole time i just couldn't take my eyes away from it. 

five times michael saves jon's life and one time he doesn't have to - is here to sooth our pain and heal our wounds. i reread it so many times!! the dynamic between jon and michael in it is one to live for!!! sometimes you think 5+1 kind of fics can't surprise you anymore and then the coolest author like paisleycowboys enters the room and proves you wrong. 

to be like super honest, the 100 ways to say i love you series, when i first saw it, made me think im not gonna like it? i love my fanfics long and scary and bittersweet and with a bad-very-not-good-endings, so the title of this one made me go "hmmmmm HMMMMM hmmmmm hmmmm?" but ive started to read it anyway, theres not that many fics on the ao3 for jonmichael, we cant afford to be capricious and gosh GOSH i was so fucking wrong!!! its sweet AND sad AND scary AND awkward (in a best way!!!) AND it made me giggle so many times!!! NeedsCaffeineRightNow can make even the edgiest of us enjoy the soft kinds of fics (its not hard when they are written with so much care and love.)

POSSESSIVE!! MICHAEL!! COMBING!!! JON'S!! HAIR!!!!!! what else do we need from life?

transition, every time i reread it or think about it, makes me painfully aware of how many things should coincide for something to work. it's not one of those fics that completely encompass you; nor its the one that leaves you with new headcanons or in a good mood, no, i think it's the one that leaves you in dissoray, making you want to argue with author, to ask them what were they thinking about, pointing on your weak sides like this?, giving you something precious and then stealing it away? pushing your old bruises? that is to say, i have nothing but deep respect for indefensibleselfindulgence. to write fic that makes you want to engage in conversation? thats powerful 

Our 'Angel' of Static and Bone is written so inexplicably good, that more than once i wondered, how NeverwinterThistle was able to do it? and then i realised they are one of my fave bg3 and dishonored authors phpphp but really, the care, the effort that went into this fic? they are literally visible! you can feel the amount of time and brain juice that went into writing it. and the neighbor character? they appeared like two times?? and still their addition left me speechless with how clever it is, how different!! absolutely amazing work.

adjective noun has jonmichael chapter (11) that destroyed me as a person i swear i laughed so hard i dropped my phone and just kept giggling face-into-the-pillow style!!!!!! its rare for the fics to bring you this childish kind of pure joy; the little in-between moment of forgetting about everything, good and bad, and just have a good time. this chapter is definitely one of those rare things and it also made me wish there would be more jonmichael fics from cuttoth. somehow they nailed everything that should be nailed about this ship and did it in a couple of pages, what a magical work!! 

and well, now here's my fave fic, the one that took my head, shaked it like it's a soda can, and then left it open, fountaining at first and then dented and empty. 

I ask for nothing, but maybe I'm lying is the work that made me grateful for the fact that i know how to read in english. its....mmmm, you know that feeling when fic makes you go through literally everything? and then, as a bonus, through all stages of grief as well?

first you get hooked up by the beautiful writing style and so you know the fic is gonna be good and you get comfortable and you turn yourself off from the rest of the world and you read. 

you love pov, you love mood shifts, you love pacing, you love when scenes are short and you pause to think about what happened / you love when scenes are long and you get overloaded with the simple things that make you feel complicated emotions, you love it all. 

then you start to wish it would never finish; you look at the scrolling bar from time to time, a little bit too aware of how much there's left to read, a little bit too anxious about it. and at the same time, the fic starts to make you feel safe, confident, that at least it's gonna be alright, its gonna be that one work that will replace the canon events for you. it was the

“Oh. Oh, Archivist, no. That’s not right at all,” you say to yourself as you watch him march into artefact storage, both hands clamped around an axe. 

On a whim, you decide to save him."

line for me for sure uhhh it still hits as good as the first time too 

and then you get to the ending and you just stare at the screen. that hollowing feeling slowly spreading inside you. *sigh* its the best sort of inspiration im sure, but its the worse one too. i have no idea how possessedradios and authors like them are able to write something that kills you, then reanimates you and then makes you sit in front of the tablet drawing hours non stop. ''I ask for nothing, but maybe I'm lying" is so beautiful its scares and fascinates me, just like the podcast did. hell, better then the podcast did.  i know its silly but i even named my fisrt fanart of michael as the title of the fic 👉👈

ahhhh SO i rumbled again SORRY!!!!!!! every time someone asks something from me its either "i'll reply later" (replies 10 years after) or "tolstoy, hold my fucking beer". but i really hope that fic writers, not only those who are mentioned here but like in general? know how much they affect other people!! how their work creates safe spaces for others!! how they make readers smile or cry, even if those readers (im not pointing finger on myself idk what you talking about pgphpphph) are little gremlins that leaving comments once in a decade....................

have fun time reading!! <3

btw im working on a little fanart rn............. (expressing my deepest grattitude to ao3 johmichael writers 😳🔪)

[starry-bi-sky]

I'm slowly becoming obsessed with the childhood friends au and it's mostly bc of something you said in the tags of an ask lol. you mentioned that they weren't soulmates they were something better. that they were two balls of yarn they batted around until they were intertwined, that they chose and continue to choose to be as close as two souls can be.

it's so poetic, the idea that fate has nothing to do with it. they looked at each other and said this is it, that's the one. It makes me think of so many different quotes but here's just a few. Hozier "lay me gently in the cold dark earth, no grave can hold my body I'll crawl home to her (him)" or like patroclus saying that if Achilles were to die that "all things soft and beautiful would be buried with him" and poor Danny grieving so long and so hard because "what is grief if not love perserving?" when you're in love with someone, that person is the lighthouse of your universe and to lose them is to be thrown to a tempestuous sea.

and thinking of their reunion makes me feel a little crazy too cause I see what you've been plotting and it just makes me think of how their relationship is going to be at first. like here's a person that you love so deeply and it's been so long since you've seen them and you've both changed since. will they click back together seemingly effortlessly? attached at the hip for a bit because they're both/or one is scared of being separated again? or will there be some friction for a while while they try to realign their pieces to fit together, to figure out what's different and what's practically the same? "you are a language I am no longer fluent in but still remember how to read"

sorry for rambling, I love them your honor.

🫵 DONT YOU DARE APOLOGIZE FOR RAMBLING I LOVE GETTING RAMBLING ASKS. AND SAME.

There was this one sound on tiktok that I heard that reminded me of them, and I just went and found it, and it goes: "I would recognize you in another lifetime entirely in different bodies, different times, and i would love you in all of this. Until the very last star in the sky burnt out into oblivion." and the first time i heard it i literally thought "this is CFAU Danny and Jason"

AND YEAH THEY JUST. I love devoted characters, i love when characters are so deeply devoted and loyal to each other its like you can't imagine them being anywhere else but at each other's side. That wasn't wholly my intent when I first came up with CFAU last fall, but god I am not complaining about how it turned out. My favorite part of the chapter 1 rewrite is making sure Danny's devotion to Jason was reciprocal.

god those quotes. they're so accurate too. yeah. i thought about this au once in the context of a soulmate au, and just couldn't get behind it. It made their whole dynamic felt cheapened, like of course they're soulmates; it was destined. When no, it wasn't. They made it that way.

(If the two of them were somehow transported to a universe with soulmate marks, they would not have matching symbols. That's okay, Danny and Jason don't need them to be. They'd pick up a tattoo gun or a pen and make their own. They wouldn't call it a soulmate mark, just a them mark.)

("Why should I share my soul with some schmuck I don't know? I want to share my soul with you.")

yeah. their reunion is. ! about as exactly as intense as it needs to be :]. They've both changed so much, and they're both scared of being separated again. Jason purposely stayed away from Amity because he knew he couldn't keep away if he didn't. Being back together again is like having a piece of them returned.

SPEAKING OF QUOTES. Here's one:

I don't believe in the death that you're bringing The reason I'm living is you Wherever you go That's where I'll be Even if death tags along, I don't mind It's still you and me I'll never leave you alone

"Death's At My Door" - The Outsiders Musical

[underdark-dreams]

I would like to request something soft and sweet. Years after saving the Gate and having moved in with Rolan, Cal, and Lia, Tav is enjoying the day reading/admiring Rolan as he works, and then either a) Tav asks Rolan to marry them or b) Rolan asks Tav to marry him.

Thank you 💕💕

Rolan x fem!Tav

More

Was it wrong to feel selfish about the person you loved? Rolan and Tav finally get a night alone at the Tower to talk about what each of them wants.

Tags: Romantic Fluff, Mild Angst, Marriage Proposals | SFW

Word Count: 4,316 [Read on AO3]

“All right, all right. Three harpies at once, no weapons. How do you win?”

“Do they have the high ground?”

From the settee by the fire, Lia pointed down at her little brother as though he’d brought up a key point. “You’re on even terrain.”

“Right, this one’s easy.” Cal settled back comfortably against the rug with hands clasped behind his head. “I start yelling loud enough that I can’t hear the harpy song. Then, I charge at whichever one’s singing loudest and knock the wind out of them with my horns, and then, you know." He waved a hand around vaguely. "Rough 'em up."

“So fucking stupid—” Lia fell sideways in her seat, clutching her side with laughter.

“I keep telling you, you’re always forgetting about the horns.” Cal jabbed a finger at his forehead. “Natural advantage, Lia, you should know this by now.”

The absurd conversation was impossible to block out, but Rolan made an attempt as he bent over his desk. Behind him, he felt Tav's chest reverberating with laughter at his siblings. 

She was in one of her affectionate moods tonight. She'd drawn up a chair behind his in order to rest her cheek against his back, one wrist draped loosely over his shoulder. 

Rolan didn't mind the closeness—he never did from her. But between her warmth and his siblings' ridiculous game of what-if, he'd barely written one paragraph in the past ten minutes. He finally gave up and set aside his quill.

Tav shifted slightly on his shoulder. "How's Gale?" She asked, perhaps feeling guilty about interrupting his concentration. 

“He’s well. His new class has a few with real promise, according to Tara.”

"I can't believe Tara likes you more than me," she mumbled suddenly against his back. "I met her first."

Her petulant tone made his mouth twitch into a smile. He would’ve turned to kiss her if they were alone. Instead, Rolan only pressed his lips to the hand draped over his shoulder. "Tressyms know a good wizard when they see one, dearest."

“Makes two of us,” she replied. The soft words ghosted across the skin on his neck, raising goosebumps under his collar.

It suddenly seemed like a very good idea to tell his siblings to get lost. Rolan was saved the necessity by a stroke of good timing. Near the fireplace, there was the soft clinking of plate armor as Lia got to her feet.

“Right, I’m off—” Lia buckled her scabbard around her waist as she rose, her shortsword tip clanking against the greaves over her shins. “Can’t be late to lead my first evening patrol.”

It had never occurred to Rolan before that Lia might end up in the Flaming Fist. He had to remind himself that the company’s reputation had improved considerably in the year since Florrick had succeeded Ulder Ravengard. Corruption and bad behavior had flourished under Gortash, but Florrick had done much to clean the Fists’ ranks of the worst—at least within the city walls. 

As he looked at her now, standing tall in her emblazoned surcoat, Rolan realized that his young sister was quite grown up. She’d earned a promotion to Gauntlet faster than any of them expected, a fact she loved to remind them of—especially Rolan. Lia took care of others the way she always had, and now she could take care of herself. The thought was somehow bittersweet in Rolan’s chest.

"Me as well," Cal chimed in from the floor. Though he only stretched arms and legs out long with a massive yawn.

“Don’t rush off,” Rolan drawled, but there was affection in it.

“Highberry’s are across the street, I got a few minutes.” Cal scrubbed his face with both hands as if to wake himself. “We got new ones at the orphanage last week, twin boys. They’re good kids, but gods, do they play hard…feel like my back’s aged about ten years…”

Lia stepped over to give him a hand up with a chuckle. “Read the room, Cal. The lovers need their alone time.”

Cal glanced around at the two in question. Tav still rested her cheek on Rolan’s shoulder with an expression of dreamy happiness, while Rolan was failing to hide a scowl. Lia knew how he hated when either of them used that word.

“Ah, right—” Cal slipped to his feet, sounding eager to be off all of a sudden. “I’ll be back after sunrise. Keep the place together while I’m gone?” He added, a fine joke considering Cal was always the one breaking things.

Rolan’s only response was to wave his quill behind him in a shooing motion. Tav called a friendly goodbye to brother and sister as they made their way down the main staircase, chatting as they went.

Once their footsteps had retreated completely, her restraint evaporated. “Thank the Gods, come here—”

Rolan barely managed to save his inkwell from overturning as she twisted to launch her torso across his lap, capturing his face in both hands for an enthusiastic kiss. His near arm gripped around her middle, no doubt leaving ink stains from his fingers against her linen shirt—he found himself unable to care about anything but the sweet taste of her lips.

They each pulled away for breath at the same moment. Tav’s grip lingered, her fingers combing back through his hair gently to clasp together at his nape.  

“Hello,” she grinned. Her eyes roamed over his face like he was everything.

Rolan’s palm brushed down her back, utterly content. “Hello.”

They took each other in like that for a long moment, just enjoying the quiet closeness. Her fingers smoothed and combed the hair back from beside Rolan’s horns needlessly—a fussy gesture that nevertheless brought a hum of contentment to his chest.

Apparently satisfied that she had him put back to sorts, Tav’s hands moved to rest on Rolan’s shoulders. “Got more work to do?”

Though she phrased it as a question, Rolan sensed she already knew the answer. He let out a reluctant sigh.

“Go on,” said Tav, not waiting for his reply. Rolan’s shoulders received a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll wait for you.”

With one last soft kiss, she slid off his lap and away. Rolan said nothing, but he instantly missed the warm weight of her against him. 

Tav retrieved her current reading from the shelves behind and curled up on the now-vacant settee near the fireplace. Though his spirit rebelled, Rolan picked up his quill again to continue writing his last few replies. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could join her. 

For a while the vaulted room settled into a quiet, echoing lull. There was the crackle of magical flame in the great stone hearth; the rhythmic scratch of ink against parchment; the faint whistle of an evening breeze out on the open balcony beyond. Periodically, he heard Tav turn another page of her book.

Before long he’d reached the final sealed envelope on the day’s pile. As Rolan stretched his hand for it, he caught sight of Tav watching him over the back of her seat.

“What?”

“Just admiring,” she sighed, eyes sparkling. “You look so handsome when you’re concentrating like that.”

Rolan’s brow wrinkled playfully at her. “Am I not usually handsome?”

“Always.”

“Hmm. You just think that because you’re in love with me,” Rolan replied curtly. He turned back to his work in an attempt to hide the way she made him smile and flush like an idiot.

“Both can be true,” she called back, not denying anything. But Rolan heard the shuffle of pages as she returned to her reading.

It took him a moment to regain concentration on his work. Rolan’s eyes reread several lines of the letter before him multiple times. But this one was truly quite important—a missive from the archwizards’ council at Blackstaff Tower. They were inquiring about his arcane research, apparently intrigued for the first time in years by his own Tower’s new ownership. He dove back in to focus on answering their questions in detail.

Half an hour and five sheets of parchment later, Rolan finally surfaced back to reality. He straightened up and promptly felt a pop in his neck from his stiff writing posture. The last light of sunset had slipped from the sky, leaving inky blackness behind each vaulted window of the cathedral-like interior.

As he rolled his aching shoulders, Rolan glanced toward Tav—only to find that the seat by the fire was empty. Rolan glanced back around the room, finding the rest of it empty as well. 

Had she given up waiting and gone up to bed? The thought disappointed him, though it opened up other possibilities. 

But Tav had told him she'd wait, and she wouldn't lie. As he rose from his desk to search for her, Rolan caught a faint metallic tap from the balcony.

Her silhouette was cast in relief against the dark sky. It was a moonless night; the pale orange glow of lamplight from the streets far below was the only light lining the edge of her figure, that and what little firelight streamed out through the highly vaulted doorway. Tav leaned on her elbows, the pewter wine glass under her fingers tapping an absent little rhythm against the stone railing. It was one of her habits when deep in thought.

Rolan allowed himself a moment to admire her. Seeing her in a quiet pose like this was one of his favorite things in all the Realms. Tav had become so many things to so many people in the short year he’d known her: hero, savior, diplomat, even rather a politician. 

But tonight, for now…she was just Tav. His Tav.

Rolan felt a pang of something like guilt in his stomach. It was by no means the first time he’d had such a feeling about her. His; possessive, controlling. It reminded him of the way he used to think before she came into his life.

For a long time, Rolan had felt a need to control the people he loved. If he didn’t, who would? Control just went hand in hand with protection. Caring for others was a luxury, and if the events of his life had taught him anything up to that point, it was that fate and misfortune were always looking for ways to separate you from what you cared about most.

And Tav had slipped so easily into the deepest depths of his heart. At first begrudgingly, resentfully…Rolan hadn’t exactly seen her as a welcome addition to their lives when they’d first met long ago on the road to Baldur’s Gate. 

Right now, it was impossible to imagine anything but love for her. 

As Rolan watched a soft breeze ruffle the ends of her hair, something uncertain bloomed inside of him. Was it wrong to feel selfish like this about the person you loved? The question hung unanswered in his chest. Rolan felt its weight there tonight, like a heavy stone dragging on his heart. 

His hand absently brushed against the small leather pouch he kept tied on his belt—there was a small clink of metal against metal from inside.

“Just going to stand there?”

Tav’s voice brought him back to reality in the most pleasant way. Rolan blinked to find that his legs had carried him forward to the arched doorway of their own volition. 

Tav stood a few strides away, watching him over her shoulder with a bemused smile. The firelight streaming out from behind him softly illuminated her features. 

In the next moment, Rolan had closed the distance to tilt her face into a kiss. Her empty cup clattered forgotten to the stone tiles at their feet. Would he ever tire of the way her arms circled around his shoulders like that? 

Rolan didn’t think it was likely—he nuzzled against her cheek as their lips parted, inhaling her familiar and comforting scent.

“What’s with you tonight?” Tav laughed, the sound breathy and soft against his collar.

“What?” Rolan protested, drawing her away slightly to examine her face. “Can’t I appreciate the woman I love?”

A happy flush rose to her cheeks, unnoticeable in the dim to someone without Rolan’s precise vision. But notice he did, just as she caught the way his golden eyes traveled over her expression. Tav pressed her face back into his shoulder as her arms squeezed tighter around him. 

“I wish we had more time,” she said against the crook of his neck.

Rolan tried to quell the instinctive panic that rose in his chest at her words. Instead, he stroked a hand over her hair. “What do you mean?”

The way she paused before answering allowed Rolan’s heart just enough time to wind up to a brisk rhythm against his ribcage. Eventually, Tav leaned back to look at him. Her expression had grown quite serious.

“I know that you—” She cut herself off, then wet her lips and began again. “Rolan, this place is your life. I’m not under any misconceptions that all this—” She tipped her head and looked sideways as if to indicate the Tower itself. “—That any of it’s going away any time soon. You know that, right?”

Her face tilted toward him with utter sincerity. Rolan found that his thoughts were forming with an odd slowness, as if swimming around his brain through something gelatinous.

“And you’ve been very understanding,” he managed to tell her. The guilt from earlier returned its grip over his chest. “More than I deserve.”

She sighed as her hand rose to his cheek. “Thank you for saying that…but you wouldn’t if you knew how often I daydream about kidnapping you away all for myself.”

Before Rolan could find a response to that, Tav had stepped back out of his grip with a soft curse.

“Damn—” She swore again, then wrung her hands with a shaky, anxious laugh. “This shouldn’t be this hard.”

Rolan still didn’t understand quite what she was saying, a sensation that he found deeply uncomfortable. It made him feel like a vessel adrift. He clasped hands behind his back to anchor himself, collecting his features into a guarded expression.

“Please,” Rolan invited her, tipping his horns to her in a way that felt awkwardly formal. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know.” She chewed the inside of her lip as she watched him. There was a tense pause, and then she launched in abruptly. 

“I’ve been thinking our life here in your Tower. You and me—us. And,” she added, “I’ve been thinking about your work. How much it means to you…how far you’ve come in just a year.”

Tav gave him a small smile, as if casting back to those tense and awkward times when they’d first known each other. Then her face fell again. “Sometimes it just feels like there’s something missing.”

Rolan found he had to glance away from her for a moment to collect his thoughts. “Are you unhappy?” He asked her slowly.

“What? Not at all—” Tav shook her head with vehemence. “You make me so happy, Rolan, you have no idea. It’s just that I—I’m not always satisfied,” she finished weakly. 

“I see.” Rolan kept his face very still, but his pulse beat painfully in his throat. 

She was unsatisfied with the life of an archmage’s partner. It was perfectly understandable—before she’d come to live with him, Tav traveled far and wide, sometimes leaving the city for a week to visit her far-flung companions across Faerûn and the very hells themselves. 

A life spent cooped up in a tower, no matter how grand—how could he have ever thought it would be enough for her?

Rolan’s guilty conscience was deserved. He had been too selfish with her. He wanted her safe; he wanted her here. Most of all, he wanted Tav to want to be with him.

And Rolan had been so sure that she did. Perhaps he’d let the strength of his own feelings mislead him.

Rolan was painfully aware of the silence stretching on between them. Another evening breeze stirred the air, and as it rustled through their clothing, Tav’s eyes searched his face.

“What are you thinking?” she asked quietly.

Behind his back, Rolan’s hands clenched where she couldn’t see them. Right now he was thinking of the small leather pouch that had hung from his belt for months, and the two small metal objects it contained, and the many ways he had imagined offering one of them to her. But none of those were things he should tell her now.

“Nothing,” Rolan answered aloud. “Only that I’ve been rather foolish.”

In response to that, a strange, puzzled expression passed over her face. Then her lips parted. 

“Ohhhh—” The sound rose from deep in her chest, a pained exhale. “No, Rolan, no no—”

Tav stepped to grasp his face between her hands with such speed that Rolan nearly flinched in surprise at the contact.

“I’m such an idiot,” she confessed to him. Her voice was very small all of a sudden. “I know I might not have the right to ask you, Rolan—but I don’t want less. I want more.”

Rolan’s eyes traveled back and forth between hers as if there was some hidden message he was missing there. “More?” He repeated, questioning. 

Tav nodded her head very slowly at him. “More of you. More of us.”

In the next instant it felt like the weight tangled around Rolan’s heart had snapped its line and plummeted straight down into his stomach. As he watched the firelight reflected earnestly in Tav’s eyes, realization shot up his spine like a shockwave. 

The force of his relief made his head spin. Rolan wanted to say a dozen different things to her all at once. Unfortunately, he found that his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth at the moment.

Instead—in a rare moment of clarity that was all reflex and no logic—Rolan felt himself sinking to one knee in front of her.

“Why are you—” 

Tav’s eyes went wide as she followed his face down to where he landed. Her hands fell from where they’d held him to hang down limp at her sides; her chest rose and fell as if she’d run a flight of stairs.

“How can you not know by now?” 

What a terrible way to begin, he thought—yet those were the words Rolan found leaving his mouth. Trying to right his thoughts, he reached for one of her hands and took it between both his own.

“Forgive me,” Rolan blurted out. “I swear I’ve practiced this before, but—I can’t remember all the best bits just now.”

Tav shook her head at him as if punch-drunk. “Don’t sell yourself short,” she whispered hoarsely.

A nervous bark of laughter escaped him. “Have you ever known me to be burdened with an excess of humility?”

Despite the electricity now swirling between them, the corners of Tav’s mouth twitched upward. “Point taken.”

Rolan used the moment to gather himself. His tongue suddenly felt two sizes too large, and he swallowed with effort against his dry mouth.

“You’ve always done so much for me. From the first moment…every moment. You’re the reason why I have Cal and Lia, why I have everything—” Rolan’s eyes left her only for a moment to pass up over the great spire of the Tower above them. 

From his periphery, Tav opened her mouth to protest.

“Please listen,” Rolan begged her before she could speak. He wished he’d thought this through even a little; his knee was already starting to ache against the stone, but he pushed through the discomfort.

Tav’s figure froze still in response as she watched him. Only her hand shook slightly between his palms.

“You must know what you mean to me,” Rolan murmured. “You’ve given me so much more than I deserve. You’ve loved me more than anyone…better than anyone. But—” He drew her hand a bit closer to his chest. “But I’m afraid there’s one more thing I have to ask you for.”

Tav’s lips were parted in anticipation as she hung on his words. She stood so motionless it was like kneeling at the foot of a beautiful statue. Only her wide eyes moved continuously over his face, and Rolan felt he could lose himself in them completely if he gazed too long.

“Let me give you more,” he asked simply. “Let me give you everything.”

“You—you damn wizard—” 

As she broke her silence, Tav’s expression was flickering somewhere between amusement and tears. She was shaking her head at him, moisture pricking at the corners of her eyes. “If you don’t say it plain in the next—”

“Marry me.”

Though they stood under open sky, the two words seemed to echo with deafening force against his own ears. The question hung like a tangible physical thing, reverberating painfully in the narrow space between their bodies. Rolan could only grip her hand like a lifeline and wait for her to say something—anything.

Finally, Tav burst out into a laugh. 

Or was it was a sob? 

It was some strange combination of both, a choked sound of relief rising in her throat even as Rolan watched liquid suddenly spill and roll down each of her cheeks. Before he knew what was happening, Tav had also dropped to her knees in front of him.

“What are you doing?” Whatever responses Rolan had anticipated, this was one he didn’t plan for. He could only freeze and watch her cry and wait for things to make sense again.

“I don’t know,” Tav hiccoughed through the rapid tears that were streaming down her face now. Her lips trembled as her hands found his shoulders, clutching two handfuls of his robes. “I d-don’t know,” she repeated. “But I want you, Rolan.”

He had just enough hope to take that as a yes. 

Rolan folded Tav’s body into his own with near crushing force. He was now overwhelmingly grateful for their absurd position kneeling together on the cold stone of the balcony. It was unthinkable to have her anywhere but in his arms right now.

“Yes, by the way—” Tav’s voice was muffled against his shoulder, but her chest shook against him with unmistakable laughter now.

“I had plans,” Rolan answered against her hair, half to himself. “None of this is right, hells, I swear I had so many plans—”

“Hold on,” Tav replied in a trembling laugh. She pulled away gently, just enough to notch one hand under Rolan’s ear. Her face radiated joy despite the damp skin on her cheeks. “Rolan, what on earth could be wrong right now?”

Everything, he wanted to groan out. But he bit the word back. 

Instead, Rolan ducked his head to fumble with the drawstrings of the leather bag fastened to his belt. Tav’s fingers dropped from his jaw as she watched on in silent curiosity. 

He shook the open bag over his hand. With a tiny clink, two rings poured from it and out onto Rolan’s outstretched palm. Even on a moonless night, the metal seemed to glow from within with a silver-blue fire.

“Mithril,” Tav breathed in pure delight.

The observation was so unexpected, yet so thoroughly Tav, that Rolan let out a choked laugh.

She touched fingers to her lips. “How long have—when did you—?”

“The week you moved in,” Rolan answered. The way her eyes flicked up to his in pure adoration made Rolan’s heart swell in his chest, but he continued. “That’s when I gave Dammon the commission. Of course it took months to find a vein of it down in the Underdark, I nearly went mad, you have no i—”

The words were stopped up as Tav’s lips collided against his. Rolan’s fist closed over the twin metal bands just as his hand was trapped between their chests.

She kissed him so long and so hard that Rolan gasped for air a bit when she broke away.

“Do you like it?” Rolan asked, needing her answer more than his lungs needed air.

“You’re kidding me.” Tav blinked at him. “Rolan, if you don’t put that thing on my finger this fucking minute, I swear I might have to reconsider.”

He wasn’t about to chance it. Rolan slipped the band onto the finger of her outstretched hand without hesitation; it fit her perfectly. She followed suit, her hand shaking slightly with excitement as the ring slid down to his knuckle.

For a moment they just held opposite hands out beside each other in quiet admiration. Then Rolan linked his fingers with hers, pulling their palms together. 

He supposed the rings were supposed to come after the vows, not before—but the sight of them on their interlocked fingers was too perfect to be wrong.

A moment later they helped each other back to their feet, both laughing at their stiff knees and the pins-and-needles in their legs. 

Rolan felt giddy as a youth. He couldn't stop kissing her; his arms circled her firmly into him, his tail looping around and over her hips in a caress. As Rolan watched the pure happiness radiating from Tav’s face, his heart was the lightest it had ever been.

“Now what?” He asked eventually.

Tav sighed with contentment in his arms. “Whatever you want.”

“I want to take you to bed,” Rolan answered without hesitation. Words had grown tiresome; he could think of no better way to demonstrate exactly the strength of his feelings for her right now.

In response, she separated to tug his hand with both of hers back under the doorway. 

“Then we’d better go,” she said, walking backwards so she could flash him a coy smile. “Because I want my fiancé to tell me about all those ways he didn't just propose.”

[miss-hyoko]

arrange marriage with Floyd leech?

"Excuse me, dear customer. I believe this is your order, [The Eel's Fiancé(e)] gado-gado. I hope the taste is to your liking."

The Eel's Fiancé(e)

Character(s): Floyd

Summary: You were betrothed to Floyd since childhood

Tag(s) and warning(s): GN!Reader, fluff, romantic, reader is NOT Yuu, arranged marriage, slightly Yandere!Floyd if you squint, and Floyd Leech is his own warning

Note: Floyd is really an interesting character to write, I hope I can write about him more often (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Almost all merfolk know the Leech family, one of the most influential families in the Coral Sea. Countless people want to curry favor with them, including yours. Using some mysterious methods that you don't really want to know, they somehow managed to set you up with the younger twin of the Leech family, Floyd Leech.

The first time he heard about his engagement to you, Floyd wasn't too pleased. He's a free eel, he would rather not be bound to anyone; especially to a stranger he had never met before. Therefore, on the first day you guys finally met each other, Floyd tried his best to look intimidating to scare you off so that he can get out of this arranged marriage thingy. But as soon as he lands his eyes on you, the sinister aura that surrounds him suddenly disappears when he sees how small you're compared to him. You clearly seem to be wary of him, but you still force yourself to befriend with him, even though your expression is full of objection about this whole stupid situation. It's such a funny sight, even Floyd couldn't stop himself from grinning widely. Now, his original intention to scare you away has completely disappeared; replaced by a strong desire to bully you.

Since that first meeting, Floyd has come to see you almost every day. If the two of you accidentally bump into each other, Floyd will immediately swim up to you and start shouting your name while waving his two hands enthusiastically, regardless of the surroundings. No matter how hard you try to avoid him, Floyd always manages to find you before dragging you along to play with him and his brother.

Physical touch is Floyd's love language. He likes being touchy-feely with you, but he'll be even happier if you do the same for him. Especially if you try to surprise him with your affection, such as suddenly hugging him from behind, holding his hand when walking together, or giving him a peck here and there. It may look simple and plain, but those small actions never failed to improve Floyd's mood. Believe it or not, every time you give him your affections, he will immediately show it off to the next (unfortunate) person he meets.

Floyd's mood swings are very unpredictable. If he was in a bad mood, everyone should immediately keep a distance from him. Floyd is quite violent when he's in a bad mood; anyone breathing near him would immediately get beaten black and blue, even if it's Jade or Azul. But you're the only exception. No matter how bad Floyd's mood is, he can still recognize you and will never hurt you. With a hoarse voice, he will tell you to stay away from him for a while because he's not in the mood to see other people. But if you insist on staying with him, then prepare yourself to be squeezed tightly by him until his mood improves.

There have been countless times that Floyd has almost 'pounced' on you, but luckily, he always managed to control himself at the last moment. He can't help it, all right? It's just his instinct to dominate his partner and own them completely, both body and heart. If it weren't for his mother's strict upbringing when he was a child about how he should respect his partner, Floyd would have surely gotten his way with you the moment you both were past the legal age.

Floyd never bothered to hide his relationship with you, so it shouldn't come as a surprise that the whole NRC knows about the engagement between the two of you. But every so often, there are some stupid people who don't know their position and want to test their luck by trying to approach you. Fortunately, before they could do anything funny, Floyd would appear right behind you and tell them to leave you alone (aka fuck off) with a scary grin. Days later, that same student disappeared without any apparent reason, never to appear at school again.

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Hunting Trip

"Have you even ever been hunting?" Ghost opens his mouth. "Animals, not people." His jaw snaps shut. "Yes, you can come with, but it's not like a mission. And you have to be nice. My dad and my brothers will be with us all week."

"I will play nice with your family, promise," he says, smirking down at you.

"I don't believe you when you say it like that, but I know it's the best I will get. You should be excited, though. I pulled really good tags. Moose, elk, and a black bear. I was not expecting the moose, or else I wouldn't have gone for the other two, but I can't turn down moose." He happily listens to you chatter away about the upcoming trip, your eagerness palpable.

"What will you do with the meat? And furs?" He doesn't really care, but he wants to listen to you talk.

"Oh, we have a guy that cuts it all up, and I'm old friends with a taxidermist. If I had more time, I would cut it up myself, but Captain said he can only give me one week, so butcher it is."

"Wait, wait, wait! You know how to cut up an animal? Why are you so bad at using knives in the field?"

"I hate using it against people. It's... too similar," you say with a small shudder before focusing back on the mission.

You catch a military flight back home three weeks later. You spend the trip curled up in the webbing and trying your best to nap after the week you had. Barely had time to clean up from the mission before you ran to the tarmac. Somehow, Ghost made it there long before you. Must be excited, you think, smiling up at the big guy.

Wrapping your arms around your dad and your big brothers doesn't feel like home, you realize with a pang. Not now that you are across the pond with the team. Price's gruff hug after a mission feels more comforting. Of course, part of it may be the glares they are shooting the "strange man" who walked in the door with you.

Introducing him isn't a disaster, per say, but for some reason, they had assumed you were bringing a woman when you told them a friend was tagging along. Luckily, tags haven't sold out since they assumed a woman friend wouldn't actually want to hunt, and you are able to get an elk tag for Ghost.

Your brothers mock him for living in a country without guns. The ribbing ends when he takes the rifle he is given apart for a thorough cleaning before putting it back together in record time. You know he is showing off and you also know that you won't have to clean the guns by yourself this year, which is a relief as your brothers and dad never seem to remember to clean them.

Your oldest brother talks about the moose he is going to get and the recipes he is going to make with it. You congratulate him on drawing a moose tag, too. He stares at you for a long moment before saying that he will be filling your tag and keeping the meat since you won't be able to take it all back.

"News to me. I got special permission and certification to bring back everything. I will be filling my tags and keeping what I get." Your brother looks like he's been slapped and opens his mouth to argue, but your dad steps in.

"Enough. You were supposed to ask, not make assumptions. She will be keeping what she kills, just as we have always done in this house."

The next morning, you wake up to see Ghost sitting and waiting in the chair next to your bed in the dark. The two of you sharing a bed had been an argument and a half the night before. It had only ended when you threatened to leave and stay at a hotel. You're more than capable of platonic sleeping, and you are old enough not to need to put up with their shit. It's still another two hours before the rest of the house will wake and three before you leave for hunting camp.

"Run?" You ask Ghost sweetly.

"Run," his deep voice responds. You manage good time, clocking in several miles before heading home, showering, and making breakfast. The bacon is finishing just as your dad ambles into the kitchen, dressed to go and yawning, but a smile on his face when he sees you cooking in the kitchen.

"You're up early, dear. Didn't need you to make breakfast for everyone," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Oh, I didn't. Bruvs are on their own. Asshats kept opening my door to look in last night. They're gonna oversleep, I'm sure," you say with a frustrated smile. Your dad chuckles and claps a hand on Ghost's shoulder in good spirits.

"Ready to put in some miles, son? Could be a long day."

"Lamb warned me. We did a short run so we wouldn't be too worn out be day's end," Ghost says politely. You shoot him a glare at the use of your nickname.

"Yeah, so we-" you try to interject.

"Lamb? Like what? Lamb to slaughter? That doesn't sound..." Your dad flounders on what to say.

Before you can salvage it, Ghost jokes, "More like a lamb sending men to slaughter. Your daughter can hold her own in the field." Your elbow to his side doesn't even slow him down.

"Field? You are consulting in the field now? It's too dangerous to be around all those amped up men, sweetie," your dad admonishes you gently as the three of you sit to eat a quick breakfast.

"Just sometimes. You know how much I love my desk, dad. If I didn't work out with Ghost, I'd get fat," you joke. You know your dad is skeptical, but he worries enough without knowing the true nature of your work. You miss the glance the two men exchange. Breakfast finished, you rope Ghost into loading the last of the gear with you, trying to keep him away from your dad.

It's only minutes before time to leave when you see your brothers stumbling out of the house to the truck. You make sure to sit between your middle sibling and Ghost. Annoyingly, your brother manspreads, squishing your legs over despite your protests. Ghost is nice enough to let you rest your legs against his, giving you a little more room. At least it's only a few hours to hunting camp. You made sure to bring your own tent and gear, so you and Ghost will be cozy the entire trip. You knew from the start that you didn't want your family to see your newly acquired scars, especially the burns on your back from last year's incident. Roasted pork had been permanently removed from your menu after that one.

"So, you two fuckin or what?" Your middle brother asks out of the blue about an hour into the trip.

"Or what," is your flat answer. No matter which is true, you're not one to kiss and tell.

"You ever hunted an elk before, boy?" You grimace at your brother's terrible mouth filter.

"Not elk, no," comes the answer from your other side.

"Oh, sheep? Antelope?" You try to intervene, but you're not fast or loud enough to drown out Ghost's answer.

"People." The rest of the ride is mercifully silent with your brothers seemingly absorbed in staring out the windows.

Reaching camp, you and Ghost work as a well-oiled machine. After so many months and especially after the time spent together in the last month in the field, you work silently and smoothly. You help your dad set up their tent, your brothers gearing up already to hunt instead. Between the three of you, camp is set in record time. Your dad begs off hunting, claiming he is going to take a nap after the early morning and long drive there.

Having pre-selected your hunting areas as a safety measure, the two of you set off into your designated zone. You let your brothers pick what they considered the prime area, hoping they would bag out early and give you time to fill your own tags. Luck is in the chilly air, though, as you see sign of a black bear not far from the trailhead. Stalking it, you realize it is stalking a herd of elk itself.

Setting up a shot can be difficult. It's even more so when you are hunting a predator. When you shoot your bear, Ghost takes down a big bull elk, too. You send him back to camp to grab your dad and get the animals ready to move. Your dad switches off with both of you to help pull the game back. You load them in the back of the truck and hug both of them excitedly, happy with the quick start to the trip. Two tags done and two to go. Your brothers have no such luck, and they are less than thrilled with your first day success.

You almost laugh when your brothers corner you later, demanding answers. "How could you bring someone like him?!" Your oldest brother is indignant.

"It's not like I work with fucking girl scouts. What did you think spec ops guys do?"

"You never said-" your brother starts.

"I said he was a coworker. The fuck do you think that means, idiot."

"All you do is push papers, course we assumed he did the same," your younger brother interjects.

"Whatever. He's here now. Deal with it and stop being rude to him," you growl out.

The next morning, you get up early and drive into the local butcher to drop off the elk and bear. You come back and set off on an all-day scout to find a moose. You find mostly older evidence of them around, but also spot another elk herd and sign of deer. Your brothers get one deer between them, and they celebrate as if it was a world record animal.

The third day, you roll out of bed antsy. "Run?" Ghost asks with a grin. "Run," you answer easily. This time, you push nearly ten miles before calling it quits. Coming back, sweaty, and flushed gets your brothers riled up. Your response is simple. "Keep your hair on, lads. We just went for walkies. Haven't been getting enough exercise in and eating too well with dad feeding us."

They both bristle at your casual use of British slang and storm off to hunt again, unwilling to even talk to you. Your dad shakes his head. "They'll never see anything crashing around like that."

"Nope. Dad, you take our section today. We are going to push further up and try to glass a moose, and we saw some good elk out our way." By the end of the day, you're tired, but you did find fresh sign, which is encouraging. Just as your dad had predicted, your brothers didn't see anything all day. Your dad, on the other hand, had opted to be picky and didn't take any shots, but saw many animals.

Day four, you decide not to go for a run. It could be a tiring day if you get a moose and have to haul it down. With that in mind, you stage extra gear partway up to be able to move a moose back to camp more easily. You finally glass the moose you've been tracking near mid-day, getting eyes on it for the first time. It's a huge bull, well over the minimum horn size. Your hands shaking slightly, you take the shot. The bull goes down after just a few steps. Processing it takes longer than any other game you've done, but with Ghost helping, you get back to camp not long after dark. Your brothers managed to shoot an elk today, and you celebrate with them, happy that they are happy.

That night, you wake up to a hand pressed to your mouth and a gentle voice shushing you in your ear. Another nightmare, you realize. Your whimpers had woken Ghost, and he covered your mouth before the screams started that would have woken up the entire camp. You thank him with a shaky voice, and he moves his sleeping bag next to yours, wrapping around you. It's what the team has done for months when in the field as a warm body next to yours staves off the screaming and whimpering. Though it doesn't help with the nightmares themselves.

You get up extra early and drop the game off at the processor before heading back to camp. Today is your last chance to fill tags if you want to bring the meat back, so you move fast tracking an elk herd. It takes most of the morning, but you manage to find them and drop a good-looking bull. Hauling it back, you are elated to have filled all of your tags in time.

When you reach camp, you see that your dad has finally gotten his deer, but your brothers were empty-handed again. They complain about not seeing anything. Unable to help yourself, you say, "Maybe if you didn't sound like a pair of trucks crashing through the woods, you'd see something." This sets them off. They think you are making shit up, again, and talking down to them.

You decide they are a lost cause at this point, but Ghost offers to show them a few tricks on moving silently through the forest. He jokes that he isn't as good as you, but he's good enough.

"That's just because she doesn't move. She just sits there waiting for someone else to do the work." Ghost just shakes his head, knowing he can't tell them any stories. Your dad watches you closely, realizing that there is something more going on here, but unable to pinpoint exactly what that something is.

The next morning, Ghost goes with your eldest brother, and you take your middle sibling into your section. You hope that separating them will help increase their chances of filling tags. Your brother pays closer attention than you'd thought he would, and his walking quiets tenfold. He keeps trying to talk to you until finally you snap at him.

"Please shut up. You can talk after you shoot something." Mercifully, he is quiet. You spot the elk herd you've been tracking and move him to set up the shot. He tries to silently argue about where to move to, but you glare until he follows your directions. He settles in and nearly spooks the herd, stepping on a stick as he shifts his body around. Thinking quickly, you almost perfectly imitate a young bull's call, which settles the cows and brings the bull closer to where the two of you are standing, looking for the challenging bull. Your brother successfully takes the shot. And he is ecstatic, whooping and hollering as the cows all take off into the surrounding forest, leaving you far behind.

You help your brother break the bull down for packing out. He looks a lot nervous at the size of one of the packs, clearly not looking forward to carrying it out, until you shoulder it easily. His surprise doesn't surprise you, though. Your brothers hadn't paid much attention to you after they moved out, and basically, none once you enlisted in the military. Upon reaching camp, you find that you are the first ones back. You help him load the elk into the back of the truck and make lunch silently. He looks like he wants to say something, but he never gets it out of his mouth. He spends the time simply standing around, thinking hard and barely interacting with you, though he is watching you closely.

When you hear heavy footsteps coming through the woods, you hurry to meet your dad, helping him drag his big elk back to camp. "Surprised you hauled it back yourself, old man," you tease.

"I've been dragging elk out of the woods for twice as long as you've been alive, girlie." The grin on his face couldn't be matched though when you load it up by yourself, waving him off. The last to return were not successful. It seems your older brother decided that he would show Ghost a thing or two and refused any advice or tips. Thus, he didn't see anything all day. You shoot a look of sympathy at Ghost. That couldn't have been easy to handle silently. He just rolls his eyes back at you, tapping his fingers on his thigh. You tap your fingers back at him and go back and forth in Morse Code. He tells you about how many deer your brother missed seeing sign of or scared off because he wouldn't shut up.

You share how your other brother did, and he smiles at the success you had with him. He tells you that you should take your older brother for one last morning hunt on the sixth day. Maybe you can make him shut the hell up.

Sighing out loud, you say, "Bro, I'll take you out tomorrow morning instead of Ghost. We will get your tag filled." Your brother agrees and mentions that he will show you how it is done, which makes everyone laugh at him.

"Bruv, we are filling your tag. I filled all of mine already. Seems I need to show you how it's done."

He sputters, and your younger brother adds, "It took us just two hours to find a herd of elk. She knows what she's doing, bro. Better hunter than me, for sure." This makes your oldest brother glower, but he finally shuts up.

In the morning, he tries to tell you what to do, and you finally tell him to knock it off after about twenty minutes. He growls, "I'm the oldest. I'm in charge."

You laugh quietly and respond, "Whatever, if you think age is all that matters, you're an idiot. Let's go, and if you want that deer, you'll listen to me. Ghost told me how many you missed or scared off by being too loud and cocky yesterday."

"He what?! Why didn't he tell me? We could have filled my tag yesterday!"

"Probably because you're being such an asshole to him." You shrug like it's the clearest thing in the world because to you it is. Grumbling, your brother follows you. Gradually, he picks up on your mannerisms and his walking quiets, but it still sounds like a moose shoving through a bush most of the time. You stop suddenly, and he nearly runs into you, not paying attention. Grabbing a bit of hair from a bush, you show him silently before walking on quieter than before. Slowly, sign becomes more frequent, and finally, you spot the deer herd. Your brother gets his deer, a big buck, and you help him break it down and load it into the packs. You add both hindquarters to one pack, and he complains that you're trying to load him too heavy. When you shoulder the heavier pack, he then jokes meanly that you're just showing off.

"Just give me that one. I don't want to have to switch off partway down because you're tired," he crows. You ignore him and set off down the trail, too annoyed to even respond to his rudeness. A grunt follows you as he shoulders his pack. At the halfway point, he is nearly wheezing with the added weight of the head on his pack.

"I need... to... stop..." he huffs. "This pack... is too... heavy..."

You wave at him to stop, and when he does, you walk around him and unhook the head from the top of his pack. Hefting it over your shoulders, you use the antlers to keep it in place at the top of your pack. "Let's go. We don't have all day," you call back to him. You can feel his stare as you hump down the mountain, moving faster now that he isn't slowing you down as much. Luckily, it's only a few miles to camp because you're exhausted after hauling so much on your back. Your dad scolds you that you should have sent someone back to get the rest of them to help, and you shrug it off.

"No sense in wasting time, dad. We got it down just fine." Happily, the three of them already have camp broken down except for the makeshift shower area. You've mostly avoided using it, just wiping down with a washcloth, but the deer head bled on your neck and down your back the whole way. "Ghost, can you help check me for ticks," you ask quietly as you strip off your gear before walking to the shower. Your brothers grumble about the two of you showering together, but you don't care as Ghost is the only one you trust to do it and the only one that knows why you won't wear tank tops very often anymore.

When you're nearly finished, Ghost convinces you to put lotion over your burn scars as they are flaring up from the lack of it in the last few days. He walks out in just a pair of shorts and shoes to dig through your pack, ignoring the suspicious stares of your brothers and their stares at his scarred torso. You manage to bite back the moan when Ghost swipes over the first scar, but not the whimper of pain when he brushes the second, which is severely inflamed. He whispers an apology and continues, knowing that you hate pausing part way when treating them, even if it hurts badly.

When you walk out fully dressed and he is still in just shorts, your brothers shoot him similar dirty looks. "Couldn't keep it in your pants a minute longer, eh?" says your younger brother angrily.

"You're disgusting! Havin sex with my sister feet away from her family," adds your older brother.

"Shut up, idiots. He was rubbing lotion on my s-back. I needed it done, and I can't reach the dry skin there easily," you growl at them.

"We know you're lying. You're disgusting. Can't believe you, seriously."

Your dad sees the stubborn set of your eyes and the hurt beneath. His sons have gone too far, he knows. "Knock it off, boys. You've been nothing but rude this entire trip, and I'm sick of it."

"But dad...!"

"Sugar, just tell them. You've been stepping around questions and hiding yourself long enough," Ghost's voice cuts through the air.

"You gay or somethin? Would make sense, but you know we don't care," your oldest brother says as he just can't help himself. It makes you mad enough to about face away from them and rip your shirt off angrily, showing them your back.

"No, bruv. He means I should show you why I couldn't make it on the trip last year. The things I hide by telling you that I consult for the Task Force rather than telling you that I am a member of the task force. I... I haven't wanted to worry you, dad." You nearly whisper the last in the complete silence that follows. Ghost rests a hand on your shoulder, watching their reactions carefully. Their eyes trace up and down the burns that mar the middle of your back and dipping down below the waist of your pants.

"You called from the hospital," your dad says finally. The pieces are clicking into place for him. "I remember hearing the beeping in the background, and you sounded... stressed."

"It was a long recovery. They had to harvest donor skin, but luckily, I got to be a guinea pig on a new treatment that sped things up," you say quietly.

"How did this happen? Why weren't we notified? You didn't let us visit or anything?!" You're surprised to hear your middle brother sounding upset. You take the time to fix your shirt, thinking about what to say.

"I was on a mission. There was a complication, and it bollocksed up the whole thing." You pause as you think back to it. "Anyway, I got caught under some burning shit and yea, this happened."

The glare Ghost gives you has you rolling your eyes at the intimidating man. "You forgot the part where you held a burning timber up to save someone and crawled out on your own, refusing to medivac until the mission objective was completed. I think that adds a few important details to the whole thing."

"And...what were you doing when this happened," your oldest brother demands.

"He was shooting anyone who tried to come near us. Saved my life, he did," you say with a grateful smile up at Ghost.

"So, you've been lying to us about your job and getting hurt, and what else? How do we know what to believe now? You only make it back here once a year, after all." Your oldest brother sounds betrayed, his tone accusing.

You just shrug and shake your head, ignoring his questions and accusations. "You gonna shower before we go, or can we break camp and head home?"

"Let's go. I want away from you as fast as possible," he sneers, turning away from you angrily.

"Fine with me," you say in a flat voice. You take down the last few tarps and drain the water with Ghost's help. The trip to the processor and back home is silent in the car, your dad and brothers thinking heavily on what they learned today while you and Ghost simply enjoy the peace and quiet. As soon as you get home, your oldest brother leaves, tires squealing as he takes off in his truck. You just shake your head, disappointed that he's still got his head so far up his ass after all this time.

You pack the meat from the butcher into coolers for the trip home to London. "You should probably call Captain and tell him to pick up another freezer or two," Ghost jokes as more and more coolers are filled and packed into the back of the truck you rented.

"I had three delivered while we were gone," you grin up at him. "Good thing I got my permission ahead of time. Captain is dying to try this stuff."

"You think they'll let you on with it all? It's more than I expected, and I thought I had a pretty good idea of what to expect," he says, a little worried.

"Oh, I grabbed bribe jerky from the butcher. They'll be excited enough not to care once I pass it around," you say with a knowing smile.

"You know the way to a man's heart, luv."

"Yes, ordnance and explosives," you quip with a loud laugh, making him grin down at you.

Telling your middle brother and dad goodbye the next morning is hard. They both hold tightly to you, and you nearly have to pry your dad off when you go to leave, his worries making him want to hold you tight and keep you safe.

"I'll be back next year, I promise. We probably will need to hunt extra, knowing how much the team will love this meat," you assure him with a smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You drive back to the air strip, happy to have ended things on a better note.

"So, yer dad is the dog's bollocks. Brothers are shite though," Ghost says as you drive away. You laugh. It's all you can do. When you show up with a pallet of coolers, the flight crew is ready to deny you until you hand over your certificates and small box of jerky to share between them. They eagerly call over the forklift to load the pallet, and you spend the whole trip listening to hunting stories from their childhood and telling your own with Ghost listening quietly at your side.

Captain Price is there waiting on the tarmac when you land. His eyes bulge when he sees how many coolers you brought back. "I take it the hunt was successful then," he teases.

"Yeah, just a bit. Bet you thought the freezers were overkill, eh?"

He laughs, "You know I did. Set them up anyway. Welcome home, kids," he says, ruffling your hair as he wraps you in a hug and gripping Ghost's arm in a friendly squeeze. You smile up at him, happy to be home with your team.

[softpascalito]

Agent Ortega x Reader - Agents dont have favorites

Summary: Special Agent Ortega visits the Emerald Palace occasionally. Somehow, the woman tending to the horses is more intersting to him than those tending to the men. When he stays away for a while and things go south for her, he comes back to find something that he doesnt like.

aka its emotional but also they fuck.

Relationships: Agent Ortega x FemReader

WC: 2600

Tags/Warnings: Creator chose not to use Archive Warnings, The Sixth Gun, Agent Ortega x Reader, Implied/Refered Non-Con (Off-Screen, Time-Period typical), Hurt/Comfort, No use of y/n, Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Creampie, Prostitution, Vaginal Fingering, P in V Sex, yes i wrote p*rn about an unaired pilot ep from 2013 so what

AO3 LINK

Notes: hello loves! what can i say, i saw a new pedro pascal cowboy character and i felt things.

here are said things written down.

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Agents don't have favorites. They breeze through Brimstone occasionally, their sole focus on their mission and occasionally getting down in the Emerald Palace after finishing said mission.

They can't afford to get attached, to care too deeply about someone. Especially not girls working in a brothel.

Agent Ortega has a favorite. 

It had developed over time, starting when you had tended to the run-down stables behind the palace, feeding and cleaning the horses for their owners. The pay had barely been enough to afford the small room you shared with three other girls.

The Agent had never been charitable but he had taken to finding you during the evening chores and slipping you some money when he'd been in town, always claiming it was to make sure his horse got the best possible care. You had believed it for a while until you had noticed the way he looked at you. Still, he had never made any real advances towards you, unlike other men who simply could not understand that you were paid to take care of the horses and not their own needs.

But even with the occasional support from him, the money had run out and after another offer that promised the pay equal to a week's worth of feeding horses for two hours with a man- you had finally given in, telling yourself that it would only be this once, just to get by until payday.

It hadn't been once. 

Instead, you have adapted to a new routine, returning to the bar after your chores and waiting for a man to approach, both dreading and waiting for one of those sleazy hookup lines that always led to the same thing. It has become routine, the way you agree on a price and then lead them upstairs. It has become routine to lock the door. It has become routine to try and scrub yourself clean afterwards. It never works.

Agent Ortega has not been in for the better half of a year. But when he steps into the parlor of the Emerald Palace, the memories immediately come back and he takes in the smell of whiskey, cheap perfume and dried cum. He uses one hand to open his jacket as he looks around, taking in the few familiar faces in the crowd, girls he has seen spread out on the sheets below him and that he has never thought of again.

You can see, from the way he walks, that he's here for pleasure and not business, a slight bounce in his step as he clearly considers his option, pondering if he should start with a whiskey to relax a bit. He's been in the stables already but he couldn't find you and assumed you'd left, remembering distantly how you'd told him on his last visit that you'd been trying to save up, trying to get out of Brimstone for good.

He didn't have the heart to tell you that it wouldn't get better in other towns.

They were all the same.

As he takes a few steps into the establishment, he smiles at the girls around him and winks at one, who instantly tries her luck and approaches him, running her hand over the front of his shirt. You can't hear what she says but it must be some variation of the hookup lines the men use because Ortega smirks for a moment, turning his head a little to the side.

And then he spots you. 

The reaction is imminent as his face falls and he shakes the girl off, heading straight towards the corner that you're huddled in. Worry fills him as he gets closer and with every step, it gets worse as he notices your thin, hunched over form, eyes puffy and highlighted by the dark circles under them. The toll the last few months have taken on you is painfully visible, especially compared to the picture he had stored away in the back of his mind, that he had drawn up on lonely nights to keep him company.

He seems to be by your side in an instant, whispering your name as he kneels in front of you, gently reaching out to touch your leg as he gazes up at you. The look in your eyes scares him more than anything.

A sudden suspicion hits him then and you can tell by the way his eyes wander up and down your body, taking in the tight dress you're wearing, that he knows. He knows what has changed.

You try and avoid looking at him, lowering your eyes, too afraid of what you'll find in his gaze. It doesn't make sense, technically. After all, you had to watch him walk up the wooden stairs with a bunch of different girls, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy you felt each time it happened.

“You're not-” He starts softly, his voice gentle and you shake your head quickly:” Please don't. Don't make me say it.” You beg silently, feeling the tears rising in your eyes.

He shifts slightly, leaning a little lower to look at you and his face hardens a bit. He is painfully aware that this is not the place to discuss this.

“How much?” He simply asks and at that you finally look up, slightly shocked at the sudden implication:” What?” Your voice sounds breathless and a small tear rolls down your cheek. He has to try his hardest to not reach out and wipe it away. Not yet, at least.

“How much? For the night?”

You stutter the price, eyes still wide as you look down at him:” But I don't want-”

This time it's he who cuts you off and gently reaches for your hand, tugging until you get up and follow his lead.

As you ascend the stairs, the steps of your routine start taking over. You try to push your emotions away, focusing on everything but. The sounds from the kitchen below, the wooden stairs creaking slightly under the Agent's steps, the way your hand still rests in his.

He steers you into a room gently. By the time the door closes behind you, your brain is in full autopilot. You turn the lock with a swift motion, the sound immediately making your body slump slightly, like it too has memorized what's about to happen.

Your hands are already on his belt when his own hands join them and for a moment you distantly wonder if he is the type who can't wait, who is always too eager- and then, in a gentle motion, he wraps his finger around yours, keeping them safely in his grip as he lowers his arms. When you look up at him, the only thing you can find in his soft, brown eyes is fear. Fear over what had happened while he had been gone. There is a hint of anger too, but you immediately understand that it is not directed towards you. 

Agent Ortega looks sad. And it breaks your heart, knowing that you're the sole reason for it.

“You don't have to do that. Not with me.” He says quietly, his voice shaking slightly as he lightly moves his thumb over your fingers, caressing them. His gaze remains on you and after a moment of silence he speaks again:” Life hasn't been treating you well, has it?”

That's all it takes for you to crumble and suddenly, the autopilot is off, the routine you have perfected broken and you all but throw yourself into his arms as the tears spill out of your eyes, small sobs shaking your body and you escape the grip of his hands to wrap your arms around him. He pulls you in.

“I should've been there.” He mumbles silently, burying his nose in your hair as he brings one hand up to stroke it, tangling his fingers between the strands. It takes a while until you manage to catch your breath, using the back of your hand to wipe the last tears off your cheeks:” I should get back.”

Your voice is shaking and it's a whisper- but his reaction is not lessened by it. His brows furrow slightly and he decidedly shakes his head:” Absolutely not. Besides, I told you I'd pay for the night.”

“But you just said we didn't have to- '' You try to protest but he doesn't budge:” I know what I said. I'm paying for the night regardless. In fact, let me pay you for the whole week.” 

After a moment, he adds, a little more quietly:” I don't want them touching you again.”

You look at him for a moment, your gaze wandering from his eyes down to his lips and a few seconds later, you're kissing him like your life depends on it. You press your body against his and for the first time in your life, you are trembling out of desire instead of fear.

You both lose yourself in the kiss for a moment and he takes a few steps back without your lips breaking contact until the back of his knees hit the bed and he sits down, pulling you with him so that you're sitting on his lap, your dress riding up slightly as you spread your legs.

After a few more seconds, his lips leave yours and he studies your face as he catches his breath:”Are you sure about this? I'll pay you no matter what.”

You shake your head softly and finally, a small smile appears on your lips:” I'm sure. I- Please, believe me.”

The internal conflict plays out on his face for you to witness. He doesn't want to hurt you, doesn't want to be like those men, doesn't want to take advantage. But something about the way you look at him tells him that you're telling the truth:” Okay.” He mumbles and his hand brushes over your cheek before wandering down your neck and then down your body as he leans forward again, placing little trails of kisses all over your face. 

His lips are softer than you expected and you shiver as his mustache tickles at your skin when he places a kiss on your nose and then on each of your eyelids.

A strong hand settles at your back for support as you feel the other one slowly inching up your thigh under your dress, drawing an impatient noise from you as he takes his time. Eventually, the tips of his fingers find the thin cotton panties you're wearing and, in a stark contrast to the slow movements from before, he suddenly speeds up, pulling them towards himself and ripping them off your body.

You gasp slightly, opening your mouth to protest as he chuckles lowly:” I'll buy you new ones, sugar.”

His rough finger finds the soft skin between your legs, running over your folds and circling around them for a few moments before slowly pushing in, parting your wet heat for him. He watches you closely, the way your breath hitches in your throat when he curls his hand just the right way, paying attention to your reactions to make his mental notes. 

He adds a second finger, slowly moving them in and out until your breathing is ragged and you lean into him, whimpering as your breasts almost spill out of your dress. The hand that has been supporting your back gently finds the front of your dress and pushes it down until it pools around your middle, revealing your bare breasts to him and he squeezed them slightly while still moving his other hand in and out of you, sucking in a breath at the way you clench around him:” You're perfect, you know that?”

Your own impatient hands soon find his shirt, pulling open the buttons and pushing it open so that his bare chest is exposed. His badge falls to the floor but neither of you can bring yourself to care. 

Eagerly, you trace a finger down his belly, following the small trail of hair that leads into his pants until you find his already half open belt. This time, neither of you stop as you fumble until it springs open and you can already see how tight his pants are under your touch.

When you pull it out, his cock is already hard and leaking and you stroke it a few times, marveling at the way the foreskin ripples back and forth with your movements. The dark hair at the base tickles your hand and you bring your other hand down to squeeze his balls slightly, drawing a breathless moan from the Agent's lips.

After a few moments, he pulls his fingers out of you, which has you whining at the loss but then you feel his hands flying to your hips and he lifts you up easily, pushing your dress the rest of the way up before slowly lowering you onto his cock.

You let out a high-pitched whine as you feel him filling you, thick and hard and you silently thank him for preparing you with his fingers.

“It's okay, I got you.” He mumbles, whispering soft praise into your ear until he's all the way inside of you, your bodies flush against each other. You hear him take a breath, clearly forcing himself to hold back and you nudge him softly, silently letting him know that he can move.

He does and the slight discomfort gives way to pleasure as he slowly buries himself in your heat again and again. It feels so different - He feels so different - from all the men you've been with that it makes you want to cry with the revelation.

“You okay?” He mumbles again and you nod, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you beg:” Harder, please.”

Agent Ortega silently obeys, changing his angle so that he is hitting your cervix with each thrust and you almost yell at the glorious feeling that starts forming in your stomach as your fingers dig into his skin.

“Come on, darlin. Come for me. Just for me .” 

You whimper as your climax hits you seemingly out of nowhere and you can hear him curse under his breath as he quickly tries to pull out of you.

“Please don't-” You whimper silently and he looks at you, face somewhere between pleasure and surprise before he gives in, letting your muscles draw him back inside as you clench down on him, drawing out both your orgasms.

He looks down and moans your name at the sight of his seed spilling out of you and running down the base of his cock, that is slowly starting to soften inside of you.

Later, after he has cleaned you up, you are in his arms, your naked limbs entangled in between the sheets. He is stroking your hair slowly, occasionally leaning down to give in to the sweet promise of another kiss.

“Maybe I should take you with me. Back to Santa Fe.” He mumbles and you sigh softly, pressing your hand against his chest:” And why would you do that?”

He stays quiet. When you realize that there is no response coming, you raise your head a bit, glancing up at his face. His eyes are soft as he looks at you in a way you don't think anyone else ever has.

You answer your own question.

“ You care about me .”

He gives the tiniest of nods, smiling a little as he leans down and kisses your forehead softly.

”Get some sleep. I'll be here in the morning.”

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notes: thank you for reading! feel free to leave me a comment if you want more agent ortega or if you want to give some feedback. love you all <3

[cho-aaacho]

Cherish ~A cute light-yellow bloom with a purple center~

Masterlist

Tags : Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Comfort, Soft Gojo Satoru, Canon Divergence AU(?), Gojo Satoru needs a hug.

Summary : "Come back with me and let me unfold my story once more for you. So you can write me as the main character in the pages of your life. I need you. Please come home."

You're a new teacher at Jujutsu High School and have been promoted by the higher-ups to teach in Tokyo.

Despite being a novice teacher. Your students hold you in high regard, earning instant respect from the famous Gojo Satoru.

Initially, Kusakabe felt skeptical of your ability, having never witnessed you on missions, and he questioned how someone without a good track record or license could teach. 

However, Gojo held a more open-minded perspective, a typical Gojo Satoru. Believes that anyone could be a teacher, regardless of their lack of experience.

His opinions led you to think that Gojo's reputation isn't as bad as anyone says about him. The truth is, Gojo is a good friend. Very interesting man. Cute. Somehow, you loved how he treated you.

Despite how loud he is in the teacher's room, he always injects joy into your empty heart, filling you with happiness. All of your days are always surrounded by yellow since you know him. Rays of sunshine. Yellow. So warm yet so bright.

He knew how to make you smile, giggle, and laugh. What a wonderful man he is!

Sometimes he would bring you a morning coffee with so much sugar on it, along with some marshmallows. Invite you to lunch, picnic, and watch Kohaku Uta Gassen on New Year's Eve.

Everything about him is too much until you feel dizzy. Because your mind is always full of him.

His other habit is showering you with souvenirs whenever he is aboard. Despite how weird the souvenirs were, you kept them in your bedroom as a charm, a treasure that you would cherish.

Unlike Kusakabe, you dislike Gojo's teaching methods, which seem too casual and childish. However, you can see that his students are talented, even at such a young age. 

He undoubtedly unusually encouraged his students; you know exactly how he expressed his affection for them. His students mean everything to him. Everything.

One day, he said he needed your help and claimed that you were the only person who was capable of helping him. He didn't give you any details, but he only sent you a message with crying emoticons, expressing distress.

You found him in his favorite spot. Which is a cat cafe near Tokyo. Even with his eyes covered by a blindfold, you could tell he was worried by the tone of his words.

He started. "You know, two days ago I sent Megumi to examine Sukuna's finger, and... at first it went so well, but... there was a kid the same age as Megumi, and he swallowed Sukuna's finger. I don't know what to do now. He's possessed by Sukuna. The higher-ups want him to be executed, but something about this situation is bothering me."

"Oh, is he in the same situation as Okkotsu-kun? I know Gojo-senpai always has something good in his head. I understand why the higher-ups are concerned, but their opinions are often biased. Gojo-senpai is more suited to this. So, do what you think is right, and I'll help if you need me."

"But—"

"Senpai, I understand your concerns. However, that kid still needs you right now. He's probably confused, and I want you to guide him. Where is he now? Should I greet him?"

"Sure, you can meet him at school. I'm sure Yuuji-kun likes you."

You understand that very well. Gojo is in a fragile state where he can't think clearly. He seems to look to you as a moral compass or hopes for some good suggestions.

Last year had a big impact on his mental health, and you've been deeply concerned. He never scolded you before, but every time you mentioned Yuuta, he always raised his tone when talking; he didn't want you to be involved with his problem.

Kusakabe says that Gojo will solve his problems on his own, as he's always done since they were young. Gojo always has a tiny space in his mind to solve everything.

Yet, he is still human, right? In the end, he needs someone to encourage and support him, no matter how strong he may seem.

The Shibuya Incident left everyone with so much trauma and pain. The Jujutsu world lost everything at that time. Nanami was gone, Maki was severely injured, and Shibuya transformed into a big black hole in only an hour. 

This impact hits you as well. Your own realm seemed to be falling apart. There was a pain sensation as if transparent swords were stabbed all over your body. The series of nightmares filling your mind, including the worst scenario.

Gojo Satoru.

Why did this happen to him? Was he too reckless, pushing himself against those curses? Did he let his guard down?

You kept sending positive thoughts to your brain, hoping and praying that Gojo would be fine and that you could help him escape the prison realm. 

But no matter how hard you tried to be strong, you couldn't hold back your pain. Especially when reading the announcement from the higher-ups—taking advantage of Gojo's absence, they declared the execution for Yaga and Yuuji. Two people are important for Gojo.

Of course, this was not what you wanted, and certainly not with Gojo.

Everyday. Everyday. You hope that a miracle will whisper your fortune. You are hoping for him to come back and see his face...

again...

at least one more time again...

...with him.

[l0ves1ckf0ol]

ISSUES. . . . xavier thorpe x gn!reader

"after that night he knew it was you all along."

genre: hurt/comfort

part 1

tags: @gutterrataesthetic

semestral break begins, students went home. well, most of them. you however decided to stay behind, after all the events that happened with wednesday you didn't want to go home to your family annoying you with questions about her. it's also because if you go home you would see xavier more since your father was close friends with mr. thorpe it wouldn't help you because your cause was to ignore him to get rid of the feelings that you felt for him. yes, he's a nice guy, and yes he probably is worth the wait- you just didn't want any distractions, or so you would call him.

you couldn't shake the memory of the night where you visited xavier in prison. you were sure you were going insane, but after that meeting you pretty much avoided xavier.

truth be told, he really is a good guy. you just worry for him because wednesday treats him like shit and he still seems to chase her around. you also thought of his trust issues towards bianca, he definitely did not have a great childhood. you didn't want to do something wrong and he'd go along with it, you were scared of hurting him unintentionally.

but thus, the universe ignored your prayers and there he was, sitting at one of the picnic tables at the quad, waiting out the laze of the semestral break.

it was nighttime thankfully, more places to hide within the shadows, though you could move and travel in shadows, your figure ought to be seen, kind of like how peter pan has his own shadow.

you weren't so lucky that evening.

xavier lowers his sketchbook to his lap and stared at the cobbled wall that you were hiding in, the warm candlelight illuminating your shadow. you held your breath, did he see you? "y/n?"

you cursed mentally and walked out the walls, as if it was a portal.

"didn't know you stayed behind for sembreak." you muttered, approaching him. you couldn't walk away now. do you even want to?

xavier closed his sketchbook and placed it on the table along with his pencil. "my dad's busy anyways." he sighs, sadly. you almost felt bad. "well you know, i'm supposed to be going home now, they gave me an earful earlier this afternoon rambling on and on about addams and how she must be making her parents proud and bla bla bla" you told him with a laugh, he chuckled.

he kept giving you this look, as if he was waiting for something- expecting from the lazy poltergeist.

"i haven't been talking to you lately after you got bailed out. you okay?" xavier scoffed, "don't give me that. you were the one ignoring me, why should you ask." he muttered bitterly. you sighed through your nose, "because i'm your friend, thorpe. believe it or not." you told him stiffly, crossing your arms. xavier stood up, towering over you.

"you're one to talk about being friends, you just pop up in my life when i'm in doubt, whenever i'm feeling low. you're like my personal therapist." he told you and you chuckled sarcastically, "oh i'm sorry, for trying to cheer you up. should i stop? i gladly will." you slightly raise your voice and he notices this, he has never heard you yell before. "it doesn't feel like we're even friends anymore, y/n." he clarifies. you stare at him, raising a brow.

"we used to meet up at the art studio, copy off of each other's homework, literally skipping class together- you never talk to me anymore. it's like i don't exist unless you feel the need to comfort me, i'm not a child." xavier argues, you wanted to shove him and run away right now but you had to face him somehow. you swallowed harshly, trying to restrain yourself from saying something stupid, but you did.

"you're one to talk about my own flaws when you can't even see what's happening right in front of you." you shot back, breathing heavily, you felt provoked by him. xavier's face scrunched up in confusion, "what do you mean??" he demands.

"hello! i get that you're head over heels for wednesday, and by seeing how she treats you? you can't even fucking see that, xavier." you told him, practically yelling at him now. he was stunned, he always saw you- carefree, wild spirited and funny. now you were an angry grenade about to go off. "your daddy issues are fucking showing xavier. i just want you to feel i'll be right here whenever a certain someome treats you wrong. because frankly, for some reason i can't get enough of you." you went off, stammering between your words as you're not used to arguing someone so tall and intimidating. xavier scoffed, picking up his materials and walked away.

you scowled, in disbelief "you're seriously walking away?" you tested him, he didn't turn around, your heart falls to the pit of your stomach, a feeling you loathed. "i don't even know why i like you!" you yell after him and ran straight to the shadows.

did he hear that right? xavier stopped in his tracks, looking behind him. you were gone. he didn't know why you said that, he didn't want to like wednesday, after that night- he knew it was you all along. you were there whenever wednesday wasn't, you were there when bianca couldn't make it. it was all you. he needed to find you. more or less in your dorm, that'd be creepy he thinks. whatever you said was the truth, he had issues. you were there to stick around and see how that unfold. you don't like racing, you didn't like pursuit, which is why xavier begins to theorize that you don't want to be some sort of an option to him. you just wanted to be there for him.

he didn't want to be a creep really, so he sat outside your door, sketching away into the night, hoping to catch you, sooner or later fell asleep.

you open the door, you couldn't sleep and figured might as well go do something. then you saw him. layed down on the floor, using his sketchbook as a pillow and his pencil right beside him. he looked ridiculous you could've laughed. he looked so at peace, lately its always been a sour face or a forced smile, now he's slightly drooling but at peace.

you knelt by him and traced your index finger on his nose, his cheekbones, his jaw, hearing him breathe gently caused you to feel more regret.

"y/n?" he slowly opens his eyes to see you, blinking twice to process what you were doing as you pulled back your hand so quickly. "you have a dorm, idiot. good night." you mumbled towards him, making him pout as you felt an arm reach out to you and a hand grasping yours, not letting you go. not this time.

"'m sorry." he hums softly, getting up as he's yet again tugging your sweater sleeve like a little boy, inviting you to sit next to him. so you did, he was only looking at you now, a look with dreadful longing. "i've loved you since forever. did you know that?" he told you, his words slurring due to being a little bit tired than usual. "i mean i did like bianca, but at first it was just for you to stop avoiding me." he huffs out, childishly frustrated, leaning his head against your shoulder. "don't talk about wednesday anymore, she was just another lookalike. you both dress the same, you used to braid my hair when we were kids- she reminded me of you." xavier whispers to your ear. "admit it, you were pretty dang attracted to wednesday too." you chuckled, thinking the same.

"i had a feeling you liked me back, i just thought you didn't want to be friends with me anymore." xavier muttered, you hum in thought. "hey please. talk to me, don't leave me hanging..." he huffs.

"prove it, that you like me." you told him, xavier gave you his sketchbook. "here."

you flutter through the pages, it was either you or your shadows, a drawing caught your eye though. it was when you were coming out of a wall, at the rave'n dance, wearing a flawless white suit, your hair styled in a different way. "want more proof?"

you looked at him as he was 3 inches closer to your face. "sure." xavier held your cheek and caressed it with his thumb, pressing your lips against his. finally, a moment you waited and loathed for.

[nidmightcookies]

Know what I'm sick of? I'm sick of a few fans posting every other fucking day about how some other fans are fandoming wrong, because those fans don't like the same character/in the same way that they do. And somehow it becomes an issue of racism, because fuck if they'll allow stanning of a white guy (funny enough, the only time I've seen race mentioned), not on their fucking watch, nosirree.

And somehow it's the wrong-fandoming-fans' fault that you fine, upstanding citizen fans have to post about this shit AGAIN because it happened AGAIN and you know, I can't remember the last time I saw the outright racist posts in the tags, so I must be curating Tumblr extremely well in that regard (wait... is it ON Tumblr, or is it somewhere else on the internet, but you brought it HERE?), at least. But I still see the regularly scheduled "Fandom was mean again" posts, so. Maybe not that good.

I'm fucking sick of it, and I don't care if this upsets them/you too, so allow me to be specific. I've read too many hypocritical essays on how Izzy fans/Canyon are doing it wrong/never shut up/missing the point/bad people who should feel bad/promoting oppression of insert-group-here (FYI, I belong to some of those groups, so - fucking don't even start it with me) ... yet those essays always have dozens of notes of agreement on them. We all know -ism is bad, we all fucking know that, but I swear some of you act like you're getting points for how many times you point it out.

Judging by the dozens of notes, maybe you are.

I know mine is not going to be the popular opinion, I know I'll get shit, I know you'll dismiss me as a troll, I don't care. I'm not having fun in Tumblr OFMD fandom anymore. You've helped to make it not fun. This constant infighting has got to fucking stop.

As you(generic policing fans) like to point out: it's a SHOW. With characters written/acted to entertain us. Some of them are going to be your favorite, and some of them are not ( I fucking hate Calico Jack, some people love him, that's okay) .

Canyon? Same to you.

Is there another group, non-Ed-non-Izzy, that needs to hear this message? Listen the fuck up:

LIKE WHAT YOU LIKE.

LET PEOPLE LIKE THE SHIT THEY LIKE.

Believe it or not, these two things can be done simultaneously. Stop reading shit into what other people are doing/saying, fucking ignore/block them if they bother you so goddamn much, and get the fuck on with enjoying the fandom the way you want to enjoy it. Let's all just fucking love us some gay pirates. It's what we're all here for.

...and if the way you want to enjoy it, is to ruin other people's enjoyment, then you can just fuck right the hell off. Thank you for your cooperation.

[blitz0hno]

Why I'm Voting Inno Mikoto even tho He Definitely Did It

or should I say DID i-*🏏smacked*

TL;DR like many I do not believe a word John says, but I also don't think he has the entire truth. Meanwhile Mikoto's amnesia is near undoubtable. With two unreliable narrators and solid evidence of self-defense, I think we need more before declaring him guilty.

I'm here to be Mikoto's lawyer cuz John ily but you suck at it 😭

Now onto why I'm voting Inno:

Mikoto isn't lying when he says he doesn't remember murdering those people, at least not entirely. The memory is in his subconscious, but he can't even remember the faces of his victims because they were both so out of it.

I believe what we see in MeMe is safe to assume to be his first. The first mannequin smashed onscreen is this one:

That looks like a damn FNAF jumpscare lmao this tells me that his baseball hobby probably saved him from getting jumped at that train station, but it came at a heavy price.

That's where John comes in. To handle the feelings that undoubtedly came with taking a life and having to hide the evidence.

Generally in DID alter's memories fall into one of 3 categories (my observations of myself and other systems):

That event happened. These are all the details. I feel nothing about it.

That event happened and I remember everything I felt like it was seconds ago, but I couldn't tell you specifics

That event happened??

The latter two can safely be assigned to John and Bokukoto. The first one is what we're missing.

I saw someone point out how the train could symbolize that he can never go back (credit urself in the tags if u see this it was a good one) to before he killed.

That brings me to our final scene.

Remember how John split to handle the feelings of that stressor? The feeling of unsafety, pure adrenaline, and righteous anger at the attacker is a horrific thing, but once you experience it you change. In order for an alter to handle the reality of something, it must be accepted somehow. John's way of accepting it is not remembering their faces, only his expressions and actions. That's probably why he's so aggressive; constant fight-or-flight mode.

Mikoto (Bokukoto), like with whatever happened to him in early childhood to cause DID, is unable to accept these realities because doing so would shatter his world (it turns out constant fight-or-flight isn't great for your social life).

So about John's statement that he didn't know any of the victims even though he totally did, at least a little;

John is reading the room and there it is: unsafety, pure adrenaline, and righteous anger at the attacker. That's all he needs to feel to know that it's time to protect Mikoto.

That's not the face and mannerisms of a man who bashes skulls in for kicks. This shit was personal.

I can't tell if it's one or two victims in the second clip here, but I strongly believe they had something to do with his work. His subconscious is really harping on how much his boss got on him and how stressed it made him. Something happened that pushed them over the edge. You don't call your mom after you kill for fun (or maybe you do idk). You call your mom when you know you're fucked.

John initiated the second killing but I don't think he was the only one making a conscious decision. That said, I don't have enough details to condemn Mikoto to another unforgiven verdict.

So, where will we find that info? Well remember RGB Mikoto/Trikoto theory (kudos to whoever coined those too)? Well when I broke down the compartmentalization earlier I hinted that there's a strong chance that SOMEONE remembers every detail, but feels nothing and lays dormant.

Good old green Mikoto, the only one we haven't seen speak yet the one who's given us the most detail so far (via MeMe).

Even if not and Bokukoto remembers more than he's letting on/gets in contact with John, the crime itself isn't unforgivable beyond a shadow of a doubt yet even with multiple victims. His reasons are still cloudy.

Also I like him

[ghostofvalorie]

That Essay

@forsaire tagged me and now I MUST provide! You opened Pandora's box on this one.

To adhere to the rules I will first provide FOUR and ONLY FOUR of my fictional crushes! And to make it easier on us all I've narrowed it down to games only, so here we go!

I'm starting off from the very beginning of my journey into crushing on non-existent people, and people who have read my tags before might know this one already!

Malik Al Sayf from Assassins Creed 1 - 2007

A man whom you've wrong by being arrogant and then spends the next few hours of the game being yelled at by him, and rightfully so. Not only do you cost him his arm and place as an assassin in the brotherhood, but his younger brother as well.

Eventually Altaïr stops begin a prick and apologizes and Malik, bless his heart forgives him.

Still... not me rolling into Jerusalem hoping, wishing, to get yelled at because Malik's Voice Actor goes HARD <3 I love him and his 7 whole polygons! NEXT!!

Keeping it somewhat chronological:

The Arishok from Dragon Age 2 - 2011

He beeg. He got horns. He is technically an antagonist in the game but he has a moral code that makes sense to him that he is willing to kill and die for. Qunari famously live their lives incredibly black and white so to him he is in the right, even if we disagree.

But he just got a wholeass vibe, and he'll say nice things such as

"I have a growing lack of disgust for you" and I mean, with that voice... say no more sir. *takes shirt off*

NR 3: Adam Jensen from Deus Ex - 2011-2016

My cyborg husband <3

Ex-swat turned security guy, then interpool agent (depends on which game you are playing)

He's just an incredibly good guy, the sweetest person on the block. Ofc it depends on how you play and what choices you make, but MY Adam is a sweeheart that will go out of his way to help people.

And my boi got sass, he'll be snarky to literally anyone, his boss, the cops, criminals you name it.

He's also secretly a little funny. <3

Nr 4: Arthur Morgan from Red Dead Redemption 2 - 2018

I mean first off, he do a little *mlem* when he drinks coffee... Do i even need to say more?

Arthur is just such a perfect sad boy. Raised to believe his only worth lies in killing people when in reality he is incredibly competent, sharp and caring. Again depends on how you play the game, but my Arthur is the goodest boi in the west.

Now that was four, oh but look, somehow completely unrelated to all this, some other honorable mentions seems to have ended up after the cut, how silly of me!

And @xintothewoodswegox, show us what you got!

Beast from Beauty and the Beast - 2017

No further comment, your honor, if you've seen the movie you should know.

Kaidan Alenko from Mass Effect - 2012

How can we not love the powerful nerdass space magician! He's caring, he is cute, he is Canadian and schrodinger's person of color!

He also glow blue, what else can you possible want? I for sure do NOT kick my feet and twirl my hair anytime he wants to talk to me.

Eris Goddess of Chaos from Sinbad - 2003

I MEAN LOOK AT HER?!?!?!? Again an antagonist, but she is sexy about it.

Helga Sinclair from Atlantis - 2001

I'm-I i mean, I don't even have words. Every time I SEE Helga my brain flat-lines I can't help it.

THAT GIF THO???

Majima Goro from the Like a Dragon series of games

No comment, because if i start i will NEVER stop, he's story is too good.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley from Call of Duty MWII - 2022

I could literally put ALL the characters from that game in this list. ALL OF THEM, but to keep this somewhat short I've chosen ONE and i've chosen Ghost, the most tragic man alive.

Kar'niss from Baldur's Gate 3 - 2023

Another TRAGIC boi, missunderstood and abused </3 I could take care of him. LET ME TAKE CARE OF HIM LARIAN

Jonathan Reid from Vampyr - 2018

You didn't think I'd squeeze in a vampire this late, did you?

I wasn't overly impressed by Jonathan from the start, BUT, he is FASCINATING if you play him as a bloodthirsty villain willing to murder everyone for power! I'm here for bad-boy Reid!

Lastly, for now:

Corvo Attano from Dishonored - 2012

Also an incredibly tragic man, who's fate you hold in your hands with your actions!

He's just hot, he's a dilf, he can succumb to grief and violence or rise above it to save not only his daughter but an entire empire from destruction.

I'm not sure i've y'all have noticed the pattern yet but let me spell it out for you:

PEOPLE THAT CAN ABSOLUTELY DESTROY ME! Look at them all! So STRONG! So POWERFUL! Fuck, mess me up fam!

And the beauty lies in that they never would. Or I mean Eris might... but I'm in a firm belief that the others would never harm someone they care about and ain't that just the purest thing you've ever heard.

Now this was only the highlights of my fictional crushes, I've kept most of the absolute freaks out for now. Maybe I'll do an updated list later where werewolves and Cthulhu makes the cut, we'll see. Now I know HP Lovecraft wasn't a very cool dude to say the least, but you expect me to be normal about the big tentacle monster? REALLY?

Lower your expectations.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 21 – ULTIMATES

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: valtyr

I feel like valtyr could write any genre ever and I'd just gobble it up. Their Ultimates fics in particular have been in my bookmarks for quite some time, because I constantly get the urge to re-read them. So if you haven't read all of their works already, I hope I can convince you to give them a go for yourself.

Here's some of their work that I think you should check out:

How Not To Build A Jetpack

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 3,749 Tags: Never Have I Ever, Smut, Sexual Exploration

Summary: The team play games. Tony and Steve exchange surprising truths.

Reasons why I love it: The first couple of sentences leading into this fic are a very accurate representation of how I believe Tony's mind probably works. I love the hopeful ending, and the smut is just amazing, it kept me hooked the entire time. Definitely read this one if you haven't, it's so good!

White Rabbit

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 1,717 Tags: Multiverse, Pining, Smut

Summary: Marvel Adventures Tony Stark meets Ultimate Steve Rogers.

Reasons why I love it: I like to think that after this, they both get their happy ending. I don't know why pairing up these two versions of them works so well in my brain, but it really does. The smut is amazing, and I love the emotional moments in between. I love this fic, and you should absolutely read it!

Art of War

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 1,297 Tags: Marriage Proposal, Surprise Sex, Scheming Steve

Summary: Steve Rogers has a brilliant tactical mind, and he's not afraid to use it.

Reasons why I love it: Oh my god, I can't believe Steve did that, but also, I totally can. Tony's inner monologue is so funny, he's completely in over his head. And I love how nonchalantly Steve swans right back out after. This fic is amazing, and you should definitely read it!

Tears Will Be Mandatory For This Event

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: G Words: 998 Tags: Same Sex Marriage, Humor, Fluff

Summary: Written for the Cap-Ironman post celebrating the NY marriage same-sex marriage laws - Ultimate Steve and Tony respond to the new laws.

Reasons why I love it: I love how matter-of-fact they both are in this one. It's funny and yet somehow still kind of sweet at the same time, even though they feel like that obnoxious couple that's already been married for 300 years. I love it! Definitely check this one out, it's awesome!

Pillow Biter

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 1,129 Tags: Vampire Steve, Humor, Biting

Summary: Steve/Tony Vampire!Steve AU. Steve is out looking for a bite to eat, and Tony's just looking for a way out.

Reasons why I love it: Tony is such a little shit, oh my god, I love it! Poor Steve being subjected to the vampire equivalent of dad jokes, but hey, you can't argue with the outcome! I love this fic, and you should definitely read it, if you haven't already!