#damn why is that a premade tag

[ryotheraccoon]

Guys look pin

[voidfanatic]

Mmm Tank (Traducción en texto alternativo)

-

Eng: (I hope nobody has done this before, if that's the case, I'll give credit just tell me). The image I downloaded was crunchy that's why it looks like that 👻

Esp: (Espero que nadie haya hecho esto antes, si es el caso, daré crédito solo dime). La imagen que descargué estaba crunchy es por eso que luce así 👻

[realisticfanfictions]

Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: I love the Waitress!Reader so much for OPLA, so I've decided to do another one! I had to split this up into multiple parts, cause this ended up being a bit long. (Link to part two.)

Word Count is 4,829. Hope you enjoy!

"Where the fuck are my entrees?!" Your voice echoed in the enclosed space, cutting through the melodic and rhythmic sounds of frying, chopping and other things that went on in a kitchen. You brushed past another waitress who wisely got out of your way, your heels clicking against the tiles as you marched up to the pass and slammed your copy of the meal ticket down. "Chef!" You called out, pushing back a strand of your hair as you scanned the chefs who were cooking at a ferocious pace. You locked eyes with an unfortunate new chef, but despite him immediately looking at his feet and trying to walk by, you reached through the window and pulled him by the collar. "Who the hell is on entrees?" He stumbled over his words and you groaned in frustration at his pathetic attempt at the English language.

"That's me." You pushed him back and looked past the cowering chef at the man who had just spoken up, your boyfriend and the love of your life, Sanji. His normally pressed and tidy chef attire was in disarray with his shirt untucked and his sleeves stained with various sauces. He sounded hoarse and was covered in a thin layer of sweat as he cooked some type of meat, flipping it over in the pan to cook it evenly. Intense concentration was etched into his face and the way he scrunched his nose was adorable, but right now you couldn't think of anything else but punching it.

You opened your mouth to speak, but a nearby busboy ran in front of you and you snarled at him. "Watch it, asshole!" You refocused your attention back on the blonde in front of you. "I have thirty-eight tables out there with at least four head a table, and only two waitresses working the floor-!"

He shook his head and his pan aggressively hit the stove top each time he moved it. "You know, it sounds so hard to look pretty and run around in heels all night, but I actually have a real job-"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really. And I'd appreciate it if I didn't have you bitching in my ear all night!" He threw some butter in the pan and began to bast the meat.

"Then maybe, if you were actually good at your 'real job'," You said with quotation marks. "Then you'd tell me why the shit it takes thirty-five goddamn minutes for a premade french onion soup!"

He whipped around with a laddle in his hand and he marched over to the pass. You both bent down to see each other through the window. "Hey, if I had any fucking help around here I would have gotten that to you twenty minutes ago, but I'm stuck here-"

"And here we go!" You exclaimed as you threw up your hands dramatically and walked through the swinging doors. You avoided Pattie walking out with a tray of fresh bread and popped on an apron attached to a nearby hook.

"-with my thumb up my arse because apparently no one knows how to plate a damn steak in this kitchen!" He moved around you as you took his place, grabbing the offending meat and placing it atop of the mashed potatoes.

Annoyed, you grabbed the garnish. "Well, where the hell's the plating station?"

Sanji came back and unceremoniously dropped a large stock pot next to you. He bent down to look you in the eye and threw his hands up in the air. "He quit."

Your eyes widened and followed him as he walked to the other side of you and started plating beside you. "He what?"

"He fucking quit! Just like every other bitch who couldn't handle Tuesdays at the Baratie." His brows furrowed and he let out a small shout of frustration. "Whoever the fuck did the halibut, refry it!" He yelled as he set it off to the side. "Just 'cause we're busy doesn't mean you can push out a shit and pass it off as fine dining!"

You plated another order and put it under the heat lamp at the pass, then rang the bell, but no one came. "And we're short-staffed on waitresses too!" You exclaimed and spotted the busboy from before, "Oi! You! Get off your ass and start serving!" You threw your ticket-book and pen at him, which he barely caught from where he was sitting.

"B-But I'm washing dishes-!"

You dramatically gestured around. "We aren't even sending anything out, so unless you've been storing them up your rectum, what fucking dishes are you washing?!" You grabbed the french onion soup in the stock pot that Sanji had given you and quickly poured it into three bowls laced with garnish on top. "Take these to 12, and the steak to 24. Tell 12 that they'll get a free dessert in about twenty minutes. Well? Get a move on! You aren't getting paid to sit there and look pretty, 'cause you sure as hell ain't fucking pretty!" He scrambled to pick them up and he quickly ran out of the kitchen.

"That turned me on more than I'd like to admit." Sanji appeared beside you with another plate and rang the service bell. "If we weren't busy I'd kiss you, darling." He exclaimed as he grabbed a handful of garnish and placed it atop of the plate.

"Oi, fuckface." When he looked over, you quickly pressed a kiss to his lips and grabbed the metal tray of halibut. "Now, let's get these pretentious pricks fed!"

You both worked side by side, barking orders at each other and bickering over every little thing you could - even Zeff yelled at you both to shut up. But it worked. Within minutes, you both had worked through the back orders and finally got to a point where you weren't struggling to complete orders from guests who'd been waiting for hours. When the last table left, you and Sanji just about collapsed. Leaning against the cool wall tile with you by his side, he sighed. "That was definitely one of our busiest days," He said with pure relief that it was finally over.

You couldn't remain standing and slid down the wall, your high heels clicking as you sat down. "Yeah, who knew so many people would wanna celebrate Father's Day?" You replied sarcastically, but a playful smile told your boyfriend that you weren't being mean. He softly chuckled and followed suit, sliding down the wall until he reached the floor with a groan.

He pulled out his cigarettes. "I've earned one of these." He says as he puts it between his lips and waits for you to light it. You roll your eyes and oblige, taking out your lighter and lighting the end of it for him. He took a slow drag, closed his eyes, savoured it, and then exhaled out the smoke.

"You almost make lung cancer look sexy." You remarked with a grin, and he returned it with his own charming, beautiful smile.

His eyes slowly flicked up and down. "And you always make yelling and shouting look so sexy." He licked his lips and leaned in, giving you a kiss that lingered. Your eyes fluttered shut and you enjoyed the small respite from the craziness you had both just experienced. Even when the kiss eventually ended, neither one of you moved away. "Are you working tonight?" He asked under his breath.

You sighed and pecked his lips. "In two hours."

"Till?"

"Four."

"Shit."

"I know." You pressed your lips against his once more and moved some hair out of his face. "But, I'm not working tomorrow so we can sleep in."

He sighed. "I start at nine tomorrow."

"Till?"

"Six."

"Shit."

"I know." You both quietly laughed and pressed your noses together, then rubbed them together while stealing kisses and giggling like you used to when you were kids.

You'd been at the Baratie ever since you were fifteen, and you'd been dating Sanji since you were sixteen. It wasn't really something you both had officially decided on, nor did either one of you do this big, elaborate confession that made both of you ugly-cry. It happened slowly over time. Many customers and fellow staff would constantly tease you both with things like, "Where's your girlfriend, Sanji?" and, "Aw! You both are so cute together!" At first you both denied it, but eventually you just... stopped correcting people. You were each other's first kiss, first love... first love, and despite how it looks from the outside, you couldn't be happier.

"Oi, Sanji." You called out as you leaned closer to the mirror to focus on your eyeshadow. "Be careful, there's been a lot of pirate activity lately. They might stop by, so Zeff has officially-unofficially instated a no-tolerance policy for- Sanji!" You laughed when your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you and you struggled to do your makeup while Sanji hung off of you and pressed kisses along your cheek. "You toad! You're going to ruin my smokey eye."

He playfully moaned. "But you're so sexy," He whined and pulled back enough to give you puppy eyes. "And you shouldn't work tonight if there's pirates anyway."

"I still have to work." You replied, giving up on doing your makeup and stealing a quick kiss from him. "I'm the head of front-of-house, I can't just ring up Zeff and say, 'hey, your son wants to sleep with me so I can't come in today!'"

"No, you can't." At the sound of his voice, you looked up to see that your boss had entered you and Sanji's shared room. He would have seen the neatly pressed and ironed button-downs wrapped around hangers, and two mismatching pairs of high heels strewn about the floor. His eyes met yours. "We have a full house of rich, but important pricks tonight, and I need all hands on deck. If someone calls in sick, drag them out of bed if you have to."

Your boyfriend pouted playfully. "But she never gets any time off, can't we just-"

"(Y/N) is our head of house, she's too important to lose tonight." Zeff straightened up and crossed his arms over. "Little Eggplant, you can't distract (Y/N) from doing her job. Unlike you, she has to work to stay here." The old man looked over at you and you nodded, you knew that you were a staff member first and foremost - being the girlfriend of his adopted son was second to that.

Sanji's smile tightened, and he stood up. "I know." His blue eyes flashed with something that you meant he wanted to say something but didn't. His smile returned when he looked at you. "I'll see you in the morning."

As he brushed past Zeff and walked out of the room, you furrowed your eyebrows at your boss and father figure. "Now that's one way to get him pissed off at you." The words came out a little more aggressive than you meant to, but you didn't bother correcting yourself.

He sighed and turned to leave. "Leave it alone, (Y/N)."

"And one way to get me pissed off at you too." You dropped your eyeshadow onto the table and followed after him. His wide frame took up quite a bit of space in the hallway, but you squeezed past him to block his path.

Zeff groaned when he saw you and squeezed the bridge of his nose, then released it to gesture while he spoke. "(Y/N), I apologise if you felt offended. You're a part of our family, and--"

"I don't care about that." You scoffed in disbelief and gawked at his lack of social awareness. "You must be really thick in the skull if you think I'm upset about that."

His face scrunched up. "Then what are you upset about? Hm? What are you upset about now?" He gestured behind you. "I have dinner service to prep for," He started to list off on his fingers. "I have a team of flaky waitresses-your team of flaky waitresses to deal with, and I need to make sure that we have enough lamb being delivered for our special tonight. So what could it possibly be that is so important you're holding me up for?"

You counted to five in your head before opening your mouth to speak. "I love him. And I don't give a rat's ass that you sign my paycheck, or give me a roof over my head. You don't make Sanji, my boyfriend and your son, feel shitty just because you think it'll toughen him up. And you certainly don't use me to do that." You keep your gaze locked onto his. "You ever do that again? I walk." You stepped backward and straightened up. "I'll get the team ready for service."

You never regretted what you said. Was your tone harsher than it should've been? Yes, but you needed to get your point across to him. There wasn't any time to think about it though, because it was Friday night and thirty minutes before opening - you didn't have the time to regret what you said.

"Ladies!" You called out, then smiled. "And Sapi." Said fishman smiled at your acknowledgement as your team of staff gathered around to form a semi-circle in front of you. You held up your checklist. "We have fifteen V.I.P tables tonight. I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour. That means no frowning, no blowing your nose on the customer's napkins, and no- oh my God, Macy. If you don't shut the fuck up." The red-lipped, pigtail-wearing waitress jolted back from where she was gossiping with another waitress. You raise your brows at her as if to ask if she was done and rolled your eyes. "And no unprofessionalism." You finished with a glare.

Spai cleared his throat. "How many free tables do we have tonight?"

You looked back at the clipboard and flipped over the page, counting quietly to yourself. "There's two at seven and one at eight. The two at seven are one and eight, and the one at eight is seven. One can be for eight, but don't offer seven to under six because seven and six are over eight. Got it?"

The room was quiet for a moment, and Sapi slowly blinked. "May I have a copy of that, please?"

"I'll bring one to your station," You looked around. "Any questions?" Silence. "Good. Now, put on your fakest smile and happy ga-ga voice - we've got a line of ships waiting to be fed!"

"Let's do this, team!" Macy's voice screeched out and she was met with silence.

You exhaled gruffly and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "Macy, I swear to- let's do this, team!" This time, it was met with a round of cheer as they dispersed to familiarise themselves with their tables for the night.

A pleased sigh escaped you, content with your small but mighty team that you had managed to drag out of bed to work the floor. A glance to the suspiciously blank specials menu made you curse under your breath. You were going to have to talk to Zeff to get tonight's specials. With a defeated sigh, you clipped your pen to your shirt and sucked in a deep breath, before making your way to the kitchen where it sounded like food preparations were already underway.

"...and get those lamb in the cold room!" Zeff's voice was apparent the second you walked through those doors. The kitchen was a mess of people marching backwards and forwards like ants while Zeff, their queen, barked orders as they passed by. You thought about just turning around and pretending that the fight had never happened in the first place, but the old man spotted you and waved you over with a finger. "What can I get you, Sprout?" You breathed out a sigh of relief, hearing his nickname for you was like a wave of fresh air.

You straightened up and grabbed your pen. "Hey geezer, what's the specials tonight?"

He waited for you to finish writing "Specials" across the top of your sheet of paper. "We have Lobster Thermidor paired with the 1500s Chardonnay, or a White Burgundy if they snub the Chardonnay. Then we have classic Red-Wine Braised Lamb Shanks that you can pair with any Grenache you find." He slid a piece of paper to you. "These are the prices. I only want you handling checks tonight."

Out of sheer habit, you slipped the piece of paper into your bra. "Why's that?"

"Because someone messed up the till last night, and I want someone I can trust running it."

That made your heart clench. You sighed. "Look, Zeff," You started and lowered your clipboard. "I'm sorry for stepping out of line earlier. I was angry. Sanji was trying to get some 'us' time because we haven't even been awake at the same time for the last couple months. And when we have it's been with me running the floor and him- you know what I mean. Look, I'd never walk out on you, Zeff."

His face, as always, was blank, but you can tell he was processing what you had just said. He was quiet, but then he nodded. "Get those specials on the board. We open in ten." You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded, then turned around. "Don't fuss, little brussel sprout."

A smile wormed its way onto your face and you looked over your shoulder at him. "Fussin' ain't worth fussing over. Isn't that what you say?" You barely dodged an incoming head of lettuce.

"Good evening, welcome to the Baratie. My name is (Y/N), can I get you started with some drinks tonight?" You were a natural at this. It didn't matter if you were having an "anti-person day", as Sanji called it, there was no denying that you had talent.

The man with soft, pink hair hummed and looked over the menu. His brass knuckles glistening under the dim lighting of the restaurant. "What are your specials for the night?"

A polite smile went a long way. "The chef has prepared for you a selection of the most wonderful meals made only from the finest and freshest ingredients in the Ease Blue. We have Lobster Thermidor paired with a Chardonnay that I find adds a bit of a fruity, uplifting compliment to the meal. And we have our high-in-demand Lamb Shanks braised in a nice red wine, and paired with only the best Grenache you can find for miles." You didn't bother telling him that it was the same Grenache you had found in the back of the freezer from four months ago.

"That sounds lovely, and what is the cost?"

You quietly hissed and looked over at the beautiful blonde who was sitting across from him, then leaned in to whisper. "I find it's best not to discuss such things on a date. You wouldn't want her to think she isn't worth it, right?"

Well, that certainly worked. He slowly looked between you and his date, who smiled sweetly and encircled the rim of her glass with her perfectly manicured french tips. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "You're right. We'll take one of each, and I'll have to rely on you for what pairs best."

You took the menu he offered with a smile and a nod. "Very well sir, I hope you two enjoy yourselves. Our bar is open all night." And with a wink, you danced away to the kitchen to place 'his' order. It was easy with men like that. All you had to do was dangle their woman's respect in front of them and they'd eat shit just to keep her smiling. But despite the monotony of it at times, you met a lot of interesting people from different backgrounds. You gave a small wave at the man at table two, a regular who had just come back from his royal ballet tour appearance and was with his rich, aristocrat girlfriend, who he said wasn't feeling well.

An set of voices, loud and uncouth, came from above and you stopped to cast a glance upwards. They were... pirates? Well, Zeff did say that they'd been more active around this area as of late, so it wasn't that much of a surprise - especially since there was already a couple tables of them. Sapi looked a little overwhelmed, so you sighed and grabbed a nearby waitress. "Could you take an order to the kitchen for me? It's table three with the two specials, two too. The man at two in the tutu wants it blue, but not at two with Ms. Sue in the red shoes. She has a touch of the flu, so any red meat or roux will make her spew. Got it?"

She blinked. "I think so?"

You patted her on the shoulder and briskly floated up the stairs with as much grace as a head waitress could muster. Their conversation slowly grew louder and you were able to hear some of their conversation. "My apologies, but I don't accept money for-"

"Is there something I can help you with?" At your words, the group looked over and Sapi, who had been trying to refuse some berri the orange-haired woman was offering him, visibly relaxed.

"Nothing is the matter, this group was just leaving." He answered and looked at them to see if they got the hint. The woman sighed in defeat and pocketed her cash. You looked over at the two young men leant against the railing staring into the restaurant below, they were very excited and looked as if they hadn't eaten a proper meal for a few days.

With your mind set, you glanced over at the time, then straightened up and smiled. "You know what? It's seven, so I believe we might have a booth available if that's suitable for your needs?"

She smiled and breathed out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, here-"

You held up a hand before she could reach into her pocket. "Save that for your meal." With a quick nod to Sapi, you stepped aside and gestured toward the staircase. "Follow me." The man with green hair and three swords rubbed you the wrong way almost the second you laid eyes on him, and you could tell he felt the same way. It was almost a sense of mutual familiarity. But you broke off eye contact to lead the rest of this strange, rambunctious crew further into the Baratie. "The Baratie was established by our current owner Zeff, and we recently celebrated our tenth anniversary."

The boy in the straw hat gawked at everything he saw and heard you say, and smiled brightly. "This place looks like it serves good food!"

That brought a smile to your face. "It does," You said as you guided them to their booth amidst other pirates and similar rough-looking guests. "And I don't just say that because my boyfriend's the sous chef."

"Are you sure about that?" The guy in a pirate costume asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and laughing along with his young friend.

You smiled along and shook your head. "I'll let you guys get settled in and will return in about five minutes with a menu. Please enjoy the music." With a few friendly waves and a "see you in a bit!" from the straw hat boy, you turned and walked toward the back of the room to collect a few menus.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and your boyfriend appeared looking more than a bit annoyed. You didn't even think he was on the line tonight, but your attention was drawn to two men who had began to cause a bit of a ruckus. You weren't close enough to hear what was being said, but you tucked the menus under your armpit and darted toward the pair that were now being consoled by Sanji. "...we don't waste food, and there's no fighting at the Baratie." You slowed your walk toward them and continued at a crawl. The man you had served not that long ago was dealing with a rowdy pirate. You heard something that sounded like a threat and Sanji spoke up again, his voice cutting through the argument before it had the chance to escalate. "And I'd like to pour you each a glass of Ithürzburger Stein. On the house."

The pirate nodded. "Okay, I'll have that drink." His brows furrowed and his voice grew irrate. "After he apologies for his bad manners!"

"Over my dead body." That was certainly the wrong answer. With a growl, they both lunged for each other and you sped toward them, watching as Sanji, in a blur, flipped over the table and kicked each of them.

The pink haired man grunted and got back up on his feet, drawing his gun but then froze when he felt something cold dig into his back. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." You warned, shoving your own gun into his back and whispered in his ear. "Drop it." Like the coward he was, he did and you effortlessly slammed the butt of your weapon into his temple - knocking him out cold.

You motioned for a nearby waitress to deal with the unconscious men, then snapped your attention to Sanji who picked up his plate of scones and continued his walk. "No cause for alarm, folks. Please, enjoy your meals." He called out and you quickly pocketed your gun back into your thigh-holster, smoothing out your dress and turning to the waitress who had arrived at your side.

After gesturing for her to take them out the back door, you readjusted yourself and quickly walked up to Sanji's side who's forced smile made you tilt your head in confusion. He shook his head, he didn't want to talk about it just yet. You both made the few steps over to the table you had just seated and, despite his mood, he set down the plate with his usual grace. "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?" While he spoke, you placed down some menus and tried to ignore the straw hat boy who was currently stuffing his face full of our complimentary scones.

The woman grabbed a menu from you with a smile, but the others had their eyes locked onto Sanji. "One of everything, please!" The straw hat boy called out without taking a look at the menu you had walked twenty feet in high heels to collect.

"Any drinks?" Your boyfriend offered as he shoved his hands into his pocket, unconsciously looking for his packet of smokes that you knew he couldn't light. You briefly wondered if you should offer him a smoke break to calm him down. "One of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?"

"Giving us the hard sell, huh?" She asked as she slowly lowered her menu and you found it increasingly harder not to smack the blond.

And, as usual, his entire demeanour changed. "Apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you care for an aperitif to start? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock. Or perhaps you'd like a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet-" He winked. "-for someone sweet."

"Something wrong with your eye?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

You cleared your throat. "No, but there is something wrong with his head if he thinks he can flirt with another girl in front of his girlfriend."

That garnered a few giggles, snickers and mock gasps from the table. Sanji chuckled and turned to you. "I hope I'm not in the doghouse tonight?" He pulled you in and gave you a quick kiss on your cheek, but you waved him off.

"We'll see." You shot him a not-so-serious warning look and focused back on the table. "Sorry about that, did I hear you were after some drinks?"

The green-haired male looked you up and down, faint recognition in his eyes as he cleared his throat. "Can I get a beer and something for my friends?"

The pirate-costumed man spoke up. "Two beers. I usually have three, but-"

"And a milk!"

You scribbled down their orders, and Sanji's hand crept around your waist. "Three beers and a milk. And, uh, for madam?"

"Water."

"Still, sparking, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"

You stopped writing and slowly looked up to your boyfriend. "...Taken, Sanji." You reminded him and he stared back at you innocently.

Even the woman leaned back in confusion. "Regular water, in a regular glass. Thanks."

"Right away." He said with a wistful expression, and with the roll of your eyes, you dragged him away before he made a further fool of himself.

AN: Sorry about ending it there, but it was getting WAY too long and I figured it'd be easier to break it up into multiple pieces rather than having one solid chunk of 12k words. Or however long this fic ends up being. I'm actually kinda digging it, so I may continue to write it for a while! Also, I have no idea how old Sanji is meant to be in this universe? According to the internet (and the massive reddit fight I accidentally spawned) it's a tossup between 19 and 26 (OP Sanji's vs the actor's actual age.)

I also hope you appreciate the word-puns. I don't know why but I really enjoy writing them and love to include them in my writing-

[5raysofsunshine]

I posted 5,562 times in 2022

That's 1,420 more posts than 2021!

224 posts created (4%)

5,338 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@storiesofsvu

@too-haught-haught-damn

@queerandlonelyx

@akindplace

@ukulelekatie

I tagged 2,154 of my posts in 2022

#she's so pretty like how is she so pretty - 185 posts

#a league of their own - 122 posts

#greta gill - 87 posts

#emily prentiss - 61 posts

#judy's yearning hours - 43 posts

#katie 🌬 - 39 posts

#carson shaw - 37 posts

#rebecca 🎻 - 28 posts

#bechloe - 27 posts

#just judy thoughts - 27 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and i could tell the guy in the truck taking his order was having a hard time understanding what this dude wanted bc his phone was too loud

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

In the Kitchen with Penelope - Emily Prentiss x Penelope Garcia

Hi friends! Who wants to read about Emily and Penelope baking together (and flirting and being a tad bit chaotic)?! This takes place around the beginning of Emily being there, like mid-late s2. They be developing crushes on each other!

Written for @sweetprentiss 's birthday bingo: Cooking or Baking Together

Rating: G

Word count: 2065

Tagging @ssaagentemilyprentiss @dalexandriag16 @its-soph-xx @143bc (if you want to be tagged in future fics lmk!)

Enjoy! 💖

---

“Emily.” Penelope says, staring at the so-called ingredients Emily had said she bought for the cake they were going to make.

“Yeah?” Emily asks, already knowing that Penelope is disappointed with what she sees.

Penelope gestures towards the kitchen island counter, “That is a cake in a box.”

“Yup!” Emily said confidently. Sitting on top of Emily’s kitchen island is a small blue rectangular box with a stylized photo of a perfectly baked yellow cake with chocolate frosting and a cartoon mascot smiling widely. The ingredients and instructions for the premade cake mix are printed on the back of the box in simple wording with small illustrations to show the steps visually.

Penelope rolls her eyes, “You told me you had cake ingredients!”

“I do! All the dry ingredients are already mixed together and then it calls for water, eggs, and vegetable oil! Which I have!” Emily argues back.

Penelope shakes her head back and forth, “No, no, no! Emily, I came over here because you said you wanted my help making a cake, and THIS is what you need help with? Are you telling me you can’t follow simple back-of-the-box instructions?”

“I don’t want to screw it up! You’ll help me not screw it up!” Emily pleads.

Sure, Emily can bake the cake pretty easily, if she pays attention to measurements and doesn’t forget that she already added something, and if she doesn’t forget to set a timer for the oven. This is why Emily invited Penelope over. The blonde had offered to help Emily if she ever wanted to bake something, since Penelope often bakes sweet treats for the team on holidays and when she hosts little get togethers at her apartment. And to be perfectly honest, Emily would use any excuse she could to spend some quality time with her new friend.

“Emily, how the hell can you-” Penelope begins to ask, but Emily interrupts.

“You must think very highly of me, because I can assure you that I will absolutely mess this up somehow if I tried making this by myself.” It’s true, she could and most likely would if Penelope wasn’t here.

Penelope sighs, “I actually do think very highly of you, Emily. Always have... but now I’m starting to think I shouldn’t.”

“Oh come on, PG!” Emily exclaims. “I’ve always struggled with baking. And cooking, for that matter. I am useless in the kitchen, and it’s literally so... embarrassing.”

“Well... don’t worry, my sweet. A badass intelligent sexy woman like yourself doesn't need to be skilled in the kitchen as long as you’re skilled in... other areas.”

“Ha, tell that to my exes.”

“Oh screw them, they probably didn’t deserve you anyway.”

“Aw, thanks.”

Penelope sighs deeply, grabbing the box of cake mix and putting it away in one of Emily’s cabinets. “Okay, screw this cake mix. Emily Prentiss, I’m going to teach you how to make a cake from scratch!”

“Really?” Emily asks, already doubtful about how well this will go.

“Yes!” Penelope says confidently, “As long as you have all of the ingredients we’ll need.”

“Like what?”

“Well, what goes into a cake?” Penelope asks, quizzing Emily to see if she at least knows the basic ingredients.

See the full post

22 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

#4

Let's Go Home - Emily Prentiss x Reader

Hi friends! Here's a little piece I just finished while at work today. It's been a minute since I've posted so I hope you all enjoy it! I'm working on putting together a tag list form so be on the lookout for that in my pinned post! update: it's up! please check it out in my pinned post or here!

Description: You pick up Emily from the hospital after she gets hurt out in the field. Morgan and Prentiss are the best besties! You and Emily are married! It's cute, I promise!

Rating: G. I don't think there's anything that should be tw but if there is lmk!

Word count: 921

---

"Morgan, slow down! You maniac!" Emily shouts as Derek pushes her wheelchair down the hospital walkway. He’s not walking very fast, but his pace isn’t slow either. The man laughs as he slowly swerves Emily left and right, making race car sounds. Emily keeps warning him to knock it off, but you can tell by her megawatt smile and laughter that she is enjoying the ride.

You watch the two agents from outside the double doors of the hospital's main entrance, holding a pair of crutches Emily had tucked away in the hall closet of the apartment. "Oh my god, you two are ridiculous!"

Derek slows Emily's wheelchair to a stop in front of you, "Don't worry, Y/n! She's fine!"

"I have a broken ankle, Morgan. Things could be better." Emily says, rolling her eyes. She’s wearing a boot cast on her left foot. The agent had gotten her foot caught in a booby trap the unsub had set, causing her ankle to be clamped by the mechanism. Thankfully, Derek managed to pry it apart for Emily to pull her foot out, but they knew Emily was hurt badly and had to be sent to the hospital.

You sigh, "Well I agree that things could be better. You could not have a broken ankle and we could've avoided a hospital visit. But hey, at least it's only your ankle, right?" You say, trying to sound optimistic but you can’t help the hint of sarcasm in your tone. It's rare that Emily gets injured out in the field, but when she does, you've learned over the past couple years of being with her that worrying and panicking helps no one. Of course you still worry and panic regardless, but you keep it under wraps much better than when you two first started dating. Right now, you're just relieved that your wife is okay... ish.

Derek holds his hands out for Emily to take, "Alright, princess. Let’s get you out of that chair.” Emily nods, grabbing one of his hands to pull herself out of the chair. She winces as she stands and balances on her right foot before you help tuck the crutches under her arms. "I'll wheel this back inside. You guys go home. I'll check in with you tomorrow, okay? Remember to take it easy and-"

"Don’t walk without crutches, yeah yeah. Morgan, I got this. I’ll be fine. This isn’t my first time, you know.” Your wife says, annoyed.

You smile up at Derek, "Hence why we have a pair of crutches with her initials on them.” The three of you chuckle at the fact that yes, Emily’s crutches have her initials on them. Along with several glitter stickers, courtesy of Penelope. “Trust me D, I'll make sure she gets rest and doesn't do anything dumb." You look pointedly at Emily, who frowns.

“Hey, I’m careful and responsible! I can take care of myself! You of all people should know that, that’s why you married me!” She argues before beginning to walk towards the parking lot. Luckily, you were able to find a spot close enough that it wouldn't be too long of a walk. You want to get Emily home as soon as possible so you can (attempt to) take care of her.

“Yes honey,” you say as you unlock your car. “Your sense of responsibility and independence are great qualities that I admire very much. But those aren’t necessarily the reasons why I married you.”

“Oh yeah?” Emily asks as you open the car door for her. She hands you her crutches and settles herself into the passenger seat.

“Mmhmm, I happen to find you incredibly sexy too.” You notice one of the stickers is about to peel off, so you press it back down before placing the crutches in the back seat. Quickly making your way around the car, you open the driver’s side door and slide into the seat. “Having a hot wife has always been a goal of mine, and you were the perfect candidate.”

You start the car as Emily laughs, “Do you still think I’m sexy-”

You quickly interrupt her before she can finish her sentence. “Yes.”

“But, even with this-” She gestures to her cast, but you quickly interrupt her again.

“Yes, Em. You’re still sexy as hell, even if you have a boot and crutches. I’ll always find you hot, you know that. I mean, if I can still find you sexy after you came home with food poisoning from that new Thai place last year, then you should never doubt my attraction to you.”

Your wife scoffs, “That was the most terrible case of food poisoning I ever had.”

“Oh I know, I was there.” You say with a grin.

“Shut up!” Emily playfully shoves your shoulder before staring at you, her tongue pokes out to lick her lips.

“Why don’t you make me.” You say teasingly. Emily leans over the center console and grabs your face to pull you in for a kiss. You immediately melt at the contact, reminding you that you haven’t kissed your wife in two days since she was out of town for her current case.

The kiss lasts for three long seconds, followed by three little pecks. Emily rests her forehead against yours and your noses brush against each other. “Thank you for coming to get me,” she whispers, “I love you so much.”

You press another kiss to your wife’s lips before replying, “I love you too, Em. Now let’s go home.”

23 notes - Posted January 20, 2022

#3

"I want to know what it's like to be loved by you."

with Greta and Carson, please!

💞💞💞

BECCA ILY

---

"What do you want, Carson? What do you want from me?" Greta asks, the frustration and loss of patience in her tone makes Carson want to break down If only the woman would understand what was happening to Carson- what she's doing to Carson. "You act like you want me, then you act like I repulse you. You push me away, but can't keep your hands off me. Do you want me or not, Shaw!"

"Oh yeah, that's rich coming from you. You're the one who keeps playing games with me! You keep saying 'this is temporary. this isn't real. feelings are stupid.'-"

"Feelings are stupid Carson! Do you know why? Because my feelings... our feelings... aren't allowed to be real. We are crazy to want each other. We are crazy to look at each other and want to kiss and touch each other in ways that are only reserved for men. We are supposed to want men. We are supposed to love men. You love Charlie, right? You love your husband like a wife should?"

"Greta, stop. Enough about Charlie!"

"You love Charlie, right?" Greta repeats her question again, staring right into Carson's eyes. "Loving him is safer than... this. Your life with him is safe for you Carson. And I just want you to be safe. That's all that matters to me. Do you understand me? If you love me... if we try to make this real... that means you're not safe."

The tears running down Greta's face, streaking her makeup, Carson tries her best to wipe them away but Greta keeps shaking her head back and forth. "I know you and I are putting so much at risk. But how I feel for you is... unlike anything I've ever felt eith Charlie. It is the realest thing I have ever known, Greta."

"It sounds too good to be true. Anyone feeling something so real, for little ol' me. And yet..." Greta sniffles and wipes her cheek before gazing deeply into Carson's eyes, "I want you. I want to know what it's like to be loved by you." Greta confesses, her eyes watery as she cups the catcher's cheek. "In the realest way we can make it."

45 notes - Posted September 17, 2022

#2

I Don't Want To Be Alone Anymore - Emily Prentiss x Fem Reader

Hi friends! This fic is for @sweetprentiss 's birthday bingo, filling spots "it's not as bad as it looks" and "love confession". It's hurt/comfort with a dash of angst, but don't worry there's a happy ending! Hope you enjoy! :)

Description: Set after Minimal Loss (4x3). After Emily comes back to the east coast after being stuck in Utah for two days, she calls to tell you she's okay but confesses she's been hurt. She argues that she doesn't want you to see her, you argue back that she needs to stop pushing you away. When she finally let's you come over to see her, something unexpected happens.

Rating: Explicit, but only because there's a couple F bombs and other curse words. Tw and cw for bodily harm and aftermath of a physical fight, but if you've seen 4x3 you'll know what to expect.

Word count: 4,006 (this is the longest fic I've written so far!!!)

Tagging @ssaagentemilyprentiss @themoontaxi @sweetprentiss @dalexandriag16 @its-soph-xx (if you want to be tagged in my fics lmk by asking and/or filling this form out)

---

The melodic tune of your ringtone catches your attention while you're in your car, stopped at a red light. You reach over the center console and dig around in your bag to find your cell phone. With a flick of the wrist the phone flips up and you press it to your ear, holding it between your head and shoulder as you move the steering wheel to make a left turn. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me," Emily says through the phone.

“Hi baby!" You happily exclaim. You hadn't heard from your girlfriend in two days and were starting to get worried. When Emily is out of state on a case she at least tries to call you once a day, even if it's only for a couple minutes, just so you can hear her voice. That didn't happen this time.

Usually Emily will mirror the tone of your voice, happy to hear your greeting. But she doesn't, she sounds a bit anxious instead. “Sorry to call, I know you’re at work.”

“Oh, that’s okay! I’m actually on my way back to the office now. I had a late lunch. Went to Saggio’s, that Italian place with really good gnocchi soup. You jelly?”

You hear a very small chuckle on the other side of the line, “Very.” 

“Are you still in Utah?” You ask as you attempt to parallel park your car outside your office building. Emily had to travel to Utah for work. She said they were just going to interview some people and gain intel so they could build a stronger case, the details of said case were kept hidden from you for the most part so you only had a very vague idea of what Emily was working on. Before she left, she assured you that she’d be in and out of Utah, but you assumed by Emily's radio silence that her assignment must have gotten more complicated than originally planned.

“No, thank fucking god." Emily says, "We landed back in Virgina about two hours ago.”

“Oh good! How’d it go?"

There's a moment of silence before Emily answers your question. “Well... we were hit with a lot of... unexpected trouble.”

You frown at Emily's response as you shit off the motor and sit back, wanting to wait a few minutes before you have to walk across ice covered pavement to return to work. “Oh no! I’m sorry to hear that, honey.”

“It's..." Emily sighs harshly, "it's alright babe. I just wanted to call so I could hear your voice. I’m sorry I couldn’t call you earlier, I was... tied up. With the case. Had to deal with some really fucked up people who made things so much worse then they should've been. But-um... anyway, I wanted to let you know that I’m okay.”

“Oh... okay.” You say hesitantly. Redflags are beginning to fly around in your brain, your curiosity tempting you to ask Emily what happened over there, because you can tell that something is wrong. “I was worried when you didn’t call, but I just figured you were focussed on work, so I didn’t want to disturb you. But I’m so glad you’re back! Just in time too! I was starting to worry that I’d have to tell my parents you weren’t going to make it... again.” For the past couple weeks you’ve been trying to arrange a time for you and Emily to have dinner with your parents, since you and Emily have been dating for a little over six months and things might be getting a little more serious. Somehow, Emily has managed to get pulled into work at the last minute, causing you to have dinner with your parents alone or not at all, but hopefully the fourth time’s the charm. “I can’t wait to go to dinner tomorrow! I talked to mom this morning and she said, and I quote, ‘I can’t wait to finally meet that gorgeous girlfriend of yours.’ Are you excited or what!” The grin on your face is so large it makes your cheeks hurt. Sadly, it doesn't stay on your face for very long.

“Wow, that’s uh... I’m-uh... I’m really sorry to do this Y/n, but I don’t think I can make it.”

“Again?" You ask, already frustrated because this dinner had already been rescheduled for the third time already. You open your car door and step out, slamming it behind you as you begin making your way towards your office building. "Emily, I thought you didn’t have to work this weekend?”

“I don’t, I still don’t. But I have to stay home and rest for the next couple days.” 

“You have to stay-?" You quickly realize what Emily means. Something happened in Utah. Something bad. "Wait, what happened? Are you hurt?”

The silence on the other side of the line gives the answer away before Emily starts talking, “Yeah... I got roughed up a little. But I’m okay though, I’m okay. I just..." Emily's voice trails off. Your heart is racing, panicked by the idea of Emily getting ‘roughed up’ by anyone. From time to time since you two started dating, Emily has mentioned incidents when she would get hurt out in the field, but it wasn’t something she liked to talk about with you. Even while you’ve been dating, if Emily came home with a couple bumps and bruises, she would tell you to stay away and give her space for a day or two. She claims that she doesn’t want you to deal with the aftermath of a bad case, that she preferred to handle it on her own. You knew it was just Emily’s way of shutting you out, her fear of being vulnerable, her fear of you not being able to handle the bad parts of dating an FBI agent. You hope this time she’ll let you see her, let you be with her as she recovers, but you’re doubtful. And that frustrates you.

You can't help but lose your patience with her. "Just what, Emily? What's going on?"

"Y/n, I don’t want to meet your parents when I... I have a black eye, and a bruised jawbone. And a lot of scratches on my hands and arms.” Emily says, sounding embarrassed.

You stop in your tracks and immediately regret losing your patience, your frustration dissolves and is replaced with shock and concern. “Oh my god, baby! What?!”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine! I'm okay! Calm down!”

You can't calm down. Your eyes are wide in panic, your chest is tight. Even though you’re two feet away from your desk, all you want to do is turn around and walk back to your car so you can rush over to Emily's apartment. You have to see her, you have to see your girlfriend. Your poor bruised girlfriend. “Are you home? Can I come over?”

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184 notes - Posted February 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Definitely Worth It - Emily Prentiss x afab fem reader smut

Hello friends! I'm back again with some friends to lovers smut with plot for youuu! And just in time (barely!) for @sweetprentiss 's birthday bingo: friends to lovers, affectionate teasing, and "I can't concentrate when you look at me like that"

Description: You and the team are staying in a hotel, snowed in for the night. The sexual tension between you and Emily is so incredibly thick, and it takes some worda of encouragement and some liquid courage from the hotel bar/lounge for you two to finally do something about it.

Rating: E +18 there is cursing and sex

Word count: 5, 850 (holy shit I didn't realize it was this long I'm so sorry but I think it's totally worth it (and mostly dialogue so it should be pretty easy to read)???)

Tagging: @ssaagentemilyprentiss @themoontaxi @dalexandriag16 @its-soph-xx @leftoverenvy @bloodmagicbaby

---

A cold gust of air blows through the automatic sliding doors and into the lobby of the hotel you and the team are staying at for your current assignment. Despite already having caught the unsub and closing the case earlier that day, you all have to stay one more night in Ohio due to a snowstorm that grounded all flights for the evening.

“Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold!” You chant as you rush past the team to get further inside the lobby.

“Oh come on now, Y/L/n! It’s not even that bad yet!” Derek calls after you.

“Not that bad? YET?!” You exclaim. “Morgan, I can’t feel my fingers! Or my toes!” You complain. 

“Don’t worry, Y/n. Once we get to our room, we’ll crank the heater up.” Emily says.

“Are we gonna cuddle to keep warm?” You ask teasingly. Emily playfully rolls her eyes at you.

“You know what always warms me up?” Rossi asks.

“Scotch.” Spencer answers.

Rossi nods, “Would anyone care to join me at the bar over there?” There’s a lounge with a small bar located on the ground floor of the hotel, it’s entrance to the left of the front desk. 

"Oh absolutely! What’dya think, Jayje?" Penelope asks, linking arms with JJ.

The petite blonde shrugs her shoulders, “Might as well, but I want to head to the room first to change into something warmer and less... worky.” 

“I’ll join you Rossi, as long as you're buying!” Emily teases, grinning from ear to ear.

Dave scowls, “Is that all I’m good for? Buying you booze?”

Derek chuckles, “Nah, Rossi. You buy us dinner too, and for that we are grateful!” He claps Rossi on the back before guiding him towards the elevator.

“Ah, screw you, children.” Dave grumbles.

Once you're all piled into the elevator, you speak up, “You guys need to stop taking advantage of Rossi’s generosity and abundance of wealth!” 

Rossi looks down at you, “Thank you?”

“Then why don’t you buy me a beer, Y/n?” Emily asks, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You scoff, “Why don’t you buy your own drinks for once, Em?”

The elevator bell dings and the metal doors open. You all shuffle out into the hallway and begin making your way to your rooms.

“I’m too pretty to buy my own drinks.” Emily says, playfully flipping her hair.

You roll your eyes, “You’re incorrigible.”

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422 notes - Posted February 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[levi-akerman248]

I have a request if that’s okay? It said that your requests were open, but if they’re not, feel free to ignore this. Ok so obviously, homosexuality wasn’t accepted when AOT took place so could you do headcanons of Levi with a secret boyfriend? Like he runs a small tea shop in Shiganshina and he dies when the Titans broke down Wall Maria back in the beginning of the series?

I am so so so sorry that this took me 4 months to respond! I wasn’t notified of the ask and I didn’t see it until a few weeks ago😅 So so sorry but I hope this head cannon makes up for it. I got really attached and cried so hard at this. I hope you enjoy it!

Warning: character death, super sad boi Levi

The bell above the door jingled as Levi stepped into his favorite tea shop. The smell of warm tea and freshly baked goods filled his nose making his lips twitch into an almost smile.

Levi had found this place a few years back after his stash of tea had ran out and the new shipment wasn’t set to come in for another week. He had set out determined to buy enough to last him the week but every place he had visited was shit. All except this one, a small shop hidden in between the many buildings of Shiganshina ran by a young man with the brightest smile Levi has ever seen.

Speaking of which, said man looked up at him with his bright smile and sparkling eyes as Levi stepped into his shop.

“Good morning Sir, the usual I assume?”

Levi simply hummed a yes as he sat down at the counter

The man whose name tag read Y/N swiftly made him his usual earl grey tea, making sure to use the freshest tea leaves he had. Y/N set the tea cup down in front of Levi and gave him a cheeky grin

“Would you like anything else?”

Levi lifted the tea to his lips and took a long slow sip, relishing in the feeling of the warm liquid gliding down his throat

He slowly put the cup down and glanced around at the other patrons in the shop. There was one couple who were sitting in the corner of the shop not paying any attention to them, and then there was a small group of young lady’s talking at another table just a ways away.

Levi was fairly certain none of them could hear them nor would they probably give a fuck but he didn’t want to chance it.

“Actually,” he spoke, “Do you have any fresh croissants?”

Y/N gave a fake grimace, “No, I’m afraid the only croissants I have are premade.”

Levi sighed, “That’s a damn shame, I really wanted a fresh one.”

Y/n paused for a moment before responding, “You know, we did just get a shipment of fresh dough. I could make some fresh ones if you’d like. The only problem is, the box is just too darn heavy for me to lift.”

Levi swallowed the rest of his tea and gently set it down on the small saucer.

“I could help lift it if you’d like” Levi and y/n were gazing deeply into each other’s eyes as the later pretending to think about it

“Well, if you insist”

“I do.” Levi said without hesitation

Y/n smirked, “Well then, follow me”

Levi followed y/n into the back where as soon as they were out of sight, he attacked his boyfriend in a passionate kiss

They had been doing this for over a year, sneaking around and having secret meet ups. It was times like these that Levi just wished he could love his boyfriend without it being seen as a horrid display of sin

He hated how they had to come up with secret words and fake conversations just so they could embrace each other

Y/n felt the same way, he hated hiding their love. He wished he and Levi could just move far far away and be by themselves. Be free to start a family and show their love for each other without worrying about being hung for their sins.

Levi and y/n sat in each other’s arms for what felt like hours, giving the other gentle kisses and loving touches.

Levi was sat on y/n’s lap when his boyfriend spoke to him in a hushed voice

“If it was legal, would you marry me?”

Levi froze with wide eyes, he had never thought of that. Why would he? It’s not like it was a possibility so why even bother?

Y/n sat and patiently waited for his lovers response, absentmindedly playing with Levi’s hair.

It took a solid three minutes for Levi to respond,

“Yes.”

It was y/n’s turn to freeze, he wasn’t expecting an actual answer. He thought his little lover would simply tell him not to think about such things as they were impossible. But he didn’t, he said yes.

He said yes!

Y/n felt like he could jump for joy, why he didn’t know. Maybe because just knowing that Levi would if he could was making him ecstatic.

An idea popped into his head and he quickly removed Levi from his lap and told him to wait a minute

Levi sat there confused while y/n quickly ran up into his small room above the shop and searched frantically through the drawers

After a quick search, he found what he was looking for. He grabbed some string and ran back to his boyfriend. (Stopping to check on his shop out front to make sure no one was waiting or trying to rob the place)

Once in front of Levi, y/n caught his breath as he slowly revealed to levi what he was in such a hurry to retrieve

In y/n’s hand was two matching rings. One was silver with gold markings while the other was gold with silver markings. Y/n grabbed one of the rings and attached it to the string.

“I know it’s not the same as having a wedding and being legally married but I figured it’s the closest we’re gonna get so…why do you say? Will you be my husband?”

Levi sat there stunned, he wasn’t expecting that when he came here this morning. But he would be lying if he said the offer didn’t make him want to give the biggest smile and jump into his lovers arms.

‘Fuck it’ He decided, ‘it may not be the same as being legally married but I’ll take it’

“Yes you cheesy bastard, I’ll be your husband”

Y/n’s face lit up and he embraced his lover tightly

Levi had to leave shortly after that but everyone could see that they both were notably happier that day.

Three weeks had gone by and Levi had visited his new husband every day since then. Neither of them had taken off their ring necklaces, even when showering. Nothing could ruin the peace and pure happiness in their lives at that point.

At least, that’s what they thought.

The fall of wall Maria was heart stopping for all of humanity, but for Levi, it was ten times worse.

When the news has reached the Corp, it was too late. They did their best to save as many as they could and move them to wall rose but unfortunately, many still died.

Levi had hoped with all of his broken soul that he wasn’t too late, that y/n had managed to get on the boat and was safe from harms way. But sadly, as he reached the tattered building that was nothing put rock and dust, he felt his heart shatter.

He didn’t want to cry but he couldn’t help it. His eyes stung and tears full of memories rolled down his cheeks. Flashes of y/n’s bright smile haunted his sight.

But what really made the poor man weep was when he spotted, in the middle of all the rubble, the necklace that once’s draped his lovers neck. The string covered in blood, and the ring sparkling in the sunlight.

Levi fell to his knees and let out the most heart wrenching scream. He sobbed as he gripped y/n’s necklace and punched the ground. He wept for the loss of the one person whom he gave his soul too.

The sound of approaching titans made Levi’s sobs halt for a brief moment, and his sadness turned to anger.

Levi saw only white and red and he slaughtered every titan he saw. He wasn’t aware of anything around him other then the beasts who took away his other half. His lover, his husband, his soulmate.

When levi snapped out of it, he was in Erwins embrace. The blonde man was the only one aware of Levi’s secret, he hugged levi as close as possible. He was whispering words to him but levi refused to listen. The only voice he longed to hear was the one that no longer spoke.

Levi fought against Erwins embrace, the only arms he wanted to be in was y/n’s.

“Levi you need to stop”

“No! Let me go you bastard!”

Erwin grit his teeth as he forced Levi stay with him and not go on anther rampage

“This isn’t what he would want Levi!”

“Shut up! You don’t know what he would want! You don’t know anything!”

“I know he wouldn’t want you to go into battle without a clear mind! I know he wouldn’t want you to risk your life because of him! I know he would want you to move on!”

“Don’t you get shit brows!? I can’t move on! He was the only thing in this shitty world that actually made me happy! The only person who put up with my crap and actually loved me for me…”

Levi’s voice trembled as more tears started to flow,

“He was my only light in this dark fucking world.”

[kakashiswilloffire]

Friend Killer Kakashi

ao3

words: 2.2k

warnings: angst, mention of gore, mention of vomit, no comfort

He was ready to crawl out of his own skin. His whole body flushed with waves of heat, prickling uncomfortably in his chest, like thousands of pins jabbing both inside and outside of himself. He stopped, gripping the counter to hold himself steady while he dragged shallow breaths into his lungs. He knew he needed to take a deep breath, he was telling himself to take a deep fucking breath, even just one, why can’t he just even breathe correctly, how the fuck was he supposed—

The sound of his fist interrupted him before he’d even realized he had struck out. Knowing it would be several minutes before the pain really set in, he smacked his hand against the counter again and shook his head viciously. Silver strands, oilier than he usually let them get, stung as they met skin while the weight of his hair shifted.

He sucked air thickly into his nostrils then pawed at his nose, grimacing at the spices that overwhelmed the air around him. He tossed the pan into the sink, not caring that it still sizzled or that the oil splashed onto the cold tiles beneath him. He was trying to make pan fried eggplant to go with the premade miso soup he’d picked up last week. It had been a shitty week and he just wanted to make his favorite meal to make everything hurt a little bit less. There was no way it’d be as good as what Gai made, or whatever Dai had done when he first made it for him, but Kakashi figured it would do, and since it would be the first thing he had cooked himself all week, there should be some sense of achievement and dopamine to relish in when it was done. Unfortunately, it had gone terribly.

He couldn’t remember exactly what spices went on the eggplant. Salt, pepper, minced garlic, and then Gai would riff from there. Kakashi hated that—he was fine as long as he could follow a recipe. Gai, however, could just pour a splash of soy, or a squeeze of lemon, or even a drizzle of honey on anything and it was phenomenal, and also, unrepeatable. He could remember what the version he wanted tonight should taste like, and it didn’t matter what bottles he shook out into the pan, it never smelled right. The oil just kept popping onto his arms and hands, and the eggplant got slimier, and everything started to smell way too strong.

Kakashi Hatake, master of a thousand jutsu, and fucking garbage at cooking.

Whatever.

Running his hand along his forehead, he tried to find a single thought to focus on rather than the swirling mess in his head. Rin’s death a few months ago had hit him hard, much like he had hit her. He knew Gai hated to hear him think like that, but she would be alive if he hadn’t been there. If his hand hadn’t crushed through her chest, her ribs scraping along—

He lurched forward, the smell of the kitchen and the visceral memories getting to him at last. His shoulders jerked erratically as he retched into the tiny sink then sunk to his knees. The cold of the floor helped ground him while he wrapped his muscled arms around his stomach, leaning his head against the cabinet until the room stopped spinning.

Pathetic.

Obito would be absolutely pissed to know this was what he died for.

Gai wouldn’t be back from his mission for at least four more days. Kakashi was on a temporary leave pending the results of the investigation into Rin’s death. Ibiki had tried to reassure him the other day that unofficially it was looking good, and should turn out in his favor soon. He was almost certain to be found not at fault. Kakashi had scoffed—even if that was the official ruling, her murder was entirely his fault.

While they weren’t living together, Gai had taken it upon himself years ago to have a spare key, or maybe several spare keys, to his apartment copied and he kept one in a pocket in that garish green spandex at all times. With everything going on, Gai had been by every other day or so that he was in the village. The couch still had a crumpled blanket at one end he had used the last time he stayed overnight, and the one throw pillow with the Hatake crest that Gai wouldn’t let him get rid of. He tossed it out of his way as he flopped down on his back, letting his legs kick up and rest over the top of the dingy couch.

Why did anyone bother with him? Why would Ibiki go to the effort of leaking confidential information about his investigation to him? Why would Asuma invite him out for drinks every Friday night? Why would Kurenai and Genma leave bottles of sake in his mailbox with notes that everything would be fine? Why would Gai.. anything relating to him?

He couldn’t even hold the memories back long enough to successfully make dinner. He hadn’t even reheated the miso soup, and that was only two steps. He couldn’t save Obito, he couldn’t save Rin, he couldn’t convince Gai to leave well enough alone.

What if Gai was next?

Fuck.

He couldn’t let Gai be next. There were a lot of things he had failed at, but damned if he wouldn’t succeed in this. He could not, under any circumstances, let Gai any closer, any further into his life. The further away he could get the overly-enthusiastic shinobi, the better.

He nodded, swinging his legs around to the edge of the couch and letting that propel him into a seated position from which he sprang up. He walked over to the tiny end table and wrenched open the single overstuffed drawer, digging through for a pad of paper and the first writing instrument he could find, a blue pen with the academy’s logo printed on it.

Gai���

I don’t know how to tell you this, but you have to stay away from me. It’s for your own good. No one close to me is safe, even from me.

Sorry. Please understand.

—Kakashi

He read over the messily scrawled note, then tore the sheet off the pad and crumbled it in a fist. There’s no way Gai could read that and not have about a billion questions. Especially with how they had relied on each other through the years, from Dai’s death to Rin’s, this wouldn’t be remotely good enough to get Gai to stay away.

He sat down on the couch again, tapping the pen absentmindedly against the faded lined paper. What do you say to someone to convince them to be done with you completely?

When the key scraped into the lock, he froze.

The door swung wide open, Gai slumping into the apartment. His jumpsuit was nicked and torn and his hair didn’t have its usual luster. He was clearly exhausted, though not chakra exhausted. Kakashi felt the familiar pangs of panic begin to hit—how was he back so soon?

“Hey, ‘Kashi. The client blew the mission terms totally out of proportion—he made it seem like it’d be almost an A rank, and instead it was like a grueling C rank. We’re still not sure if the pay will be adjusted accordingly, but Ebisu is arguing it shouldn’t be because we did still run into trouble—Stone ninja near the border tried to take Chouza out. Recognized him somehow, but no worries, Konoha’s magnificent Green Beast was on the scene and we handled them without any major issues.” He grinned and flexed, posing for a moment before relaxing now that he had reached his destination and sliding his vest off and onto the hook by the door.

“How have you been? You eaten yet? Yakiniku is running a special according to Chouza—he asked me to join him for a post-mission meal and I told him I’d have to swing by here and see if you wanted to tag along. You like their short rib, right? Or are you still on the vegetarian kick?”

It never failed to impress Kakashi how Gai could fill a space, whether it be with his words, his personality, or his posing. No matter how he did it, though, it always was genuine and warm, and it was nearly impossible to maintain the solemn composure he frequently fronted. They made a nice contrast as a pair. Shame they would never have the chance to explore the friendship further.

He looked down at the crumpled paper on the ground and kicked it under the couch, setting the pad and pen aside. Unfortunately, he was going to have to explain in person.

He walked past Gai without making eye contact, the other man stepping out of his way without resistance. He lifted the vest off the hook next to his own vest, brought it briefly to his own chest, and immediately regretted it when the scent of his rival slammed into him. Once again, he shook his head vigorously, then shoved the vest back at Gai.

“Get out.”

He laughed, taking the vest back and slipping it on without understanding. “Want yours as well?” he asked, reaching for the door.

Kakashi felt flushed again, realizing that Gai meant for them to get dinner together. He walked back into the small living room, keeping his back to the door.

“Don’t need it. Get out.”

Gai’s laugh died in his chest, questions rising to the surface. “I… You okay? Did something happen while I was gone? Your investigation results? I told Ibiki to send word if they made the announcement, that asshole—”

“No, Gai. Nothing happened. I just…” Kakashi swallowed and felt his heart frost over. “Just did some thinking. Realized I’m better off without you.”

He scoffed. “Very funny, Kakashi. Come on, grab a jacket or something, Chouza said he’d wait on me to get back.”

“I mean it, Gai. You’re holding me back. The stupid challenges, do you think I actually care? I’ve always been stronger than you, and now that I’ve got the Sharingan, it’s comical, competing against you. I can see all your moves from miles away. You broadcast like a bull. You’re loud, annoying, and a useless ninja. I want you out of my life.”

There was silence for more than a full minute. It might have been as long as the two of them had gone without speaking, ever. Then Gai crossed to Kakashi in two steps, grabbing his left shoulder and spinning him around to face him.

“I know you’re not saying all that ‘cause you mean it, Kakashi. Look me in the eyes and think about this.”

Kakashi steeled himself, making full eye contact with the single grey eye. “Why don’t you think about it, Gai? Honestly? What kind of a ninja can’t even use ninjutsu? Everyone’s just humoring you and letting you make a fool of yourself. You’re a walking lesson in how to not be a shinobi.”

Gai blinked hard, his eyes beginning to shimmer. He cocked his head to the side, his grip on his rival’s shoulder only strengthening.

“’Kashi, I know things are hard for you. I know your brain lies to you sometimes. It’s okay. Listen, we’ll stay here tonight, I’ll cook, we can watch a movie or something, I’ll keep watch so you can sleep and we’ll talk more in the morning. There’s no pressure. I care about you, Kakashi. Let me help you.”

His eyes were swimming now, the passion making tears roll slowly down his face. The silver-haired man refused to move or answer. Swallowing, he made one last effort to persuade him. “Kakashi… please. Don’t do this. I love you.”

Kakashi’s heart, freeze dried, now shattered, crumbling into a powder and blowing away on a light breeze. Of course Gai loved him, and he loved Gai, but could Gai really mean that he… could he love him the way?—

Impossible.

No. Of course not. And even if he did, that just put him in all the more danger.

His resolve strengthened, he scowled back. “Fuck off, Gai. A ninja that only uses taijutsu is useless in battle. Don’t you remember how your dad died? Couldn’t save himself, could barely save you. What did you even do to try and help him?”

He was grateful for the fist that slammed into his jaw, shutting him up and knocking him into the wall.

“Fuck off, Hatake.”

He only dimly registered the door slamming, and possibly coming off its’ hinges. After a beat, a glint of silver flew through the air and lodged into the wall directly opposite the door. Slowly, he gathered himself up and limped over to it, realizing with a sharp ache that it was the key to his apartment. Turning to the mirror propped near the door, he stared down the version of him with grey circles under his eyes, thumbing at the blood growing at the corner of his mouth.

Friend-Killer Kakashi was starting to sound more like him by the moment.

[wildlyminiaturesandwich]

hey, whenever I start a new save file I always end up spending ages deleting or editing the townies because they're so damn ugly lol. do you know if there's a way to permanently change the way they look?

Actually, I just discovered the other day that MCCC has a setting that when enabled will force your game to replace generated townies with sims that are saved in your library!

I’ll put the rest of the info under a cut because it’s gonna get kind of long lol

So if you click on a computer in game and go to MC Population > Populating Settings > Import Tray Settings you’ll get this little menu:

Go into each of those and play around with the settings, it’s pretty easy to figure out what they do. I’m still playing around with my settings so they might not be right and they might change but I have everything set like this:

As you can see there are a lot of different ways to set it up but essentially what my settings will (hopefully) mean is that when I save a sim to my library, if I make sure it has the tag #mccc_include in it’s description it will show up in my save at some point.

There are a few things to keep in mind when using this part of MCCC though:

In my experience this does not replace townies or premades that are already in your save. So if you don’t want to edit them just delete them.

This does not import the ACTUAL sim, just it’s appearance, clothes, name. The sim that shows up in game will not have the same skills, traits or aspiration as the one you saved. Relationships don’t carry over either.

Speaking of relationships, I don’t think it works for households with more than one sim in it. I’ve tagged a couple of larger households with the tag to see what would happen and so far none of them have showed up in my game so I’m guessing it only works for single sim households, which would make sense because relationships don’t carry over so why bother having a whole family tagged.

And that’s about it! As I said, I haven’t fully tested my settings but from what I’ve seen so far, these settings seem to be pulling many of the hundreds of sims I have tagged in my library with the #mccc_include tag so I’m pretty happy with it! 😊

[ommsims]

story process challenge

i was tagged  by @xldkx​​ to do this challenge, created by @herpixels​​​ , like a month? a month and a half? ago and it’s been sitting half finished in my drafts for nearly as long. *sigh* (regardless, i love stuff like this so even if it takes me forever to get to it, i appreciate the tags! 💕). 

i decided to answer all the qs because it took me damn long enough to get to this, so i might as well put some extra elbow grease into it (plus it was fun!). btw it’s all going under a cut b/c it is long. i apologize in advance.

1. My Writing Process - used to be a hot damn mess. literally word docs strewn throughout my pc. However, I recently switched to using Onenote (it’s what i use to organize my d&d campaign notes) and hoo-boy is it so much nicer. this is how it’s set up and it’s honestly night and day. i can have a page with outlines, a page to organize & order screenshots, and a separate page for drafting text, and i can easily toggle though them without having to switch windows? a big thumbs up from me.

When it comes to actual writing- I used to write my drafts in novel format, which i enjoyed but it made “converting” them into tumblr posts time consuming and frustrating. I ended up scrapping most of the text in the process, retaining pretty much only the dialogue. 

Anyway, nowadays I write in more of a screenplay format: dialogue only + key scene information with the occasional note to self. 

I do keep a master “arcs” page with key events and each individual character’s arc from beginning to end and secondary “outline” pages with slightly more detailed outline for each leg of the project. No screencaps b/c spoilers galore! 

My typical work flow process for a scene goes: (1) brainstorm scene ideas, (2) take screenshots, (3) organize screenshots into a rough storyboard, (4) add 1st draft of text, (5) edit photos, (6) edit text, (7) upload to "drafts” here on tumblr, (8) let sit for a bit (9) take a final look at things/proofread and edit as needed. It may sound counterintuitive, but i find it much easier to write dialogue for a set of images rather than attempt to take images based on prewritten text. I feel more comfortable editing and tweaking tone and content in the text this way. Otherwise, I get frustrated when I “can’t” shoot a scene exactly as it appeared in my head.

2. How I build my scenes - A lot of what i do is rooted in gameplay, therefore my sets are usually (a) play-tested and (b) not super pretty. I’ve certainly improved at decorating & building over the years but more often than not I download lots off tumblr and the gallery because I don’t have the patience, aptitude, or time to build all of my own sets. That being said, I frequently gut builds only to build a number of completely unrelated mini sets inside to reduce the number of times i have to replace lots. I also keep a list of “important locations” and where certain characters live / will move to, to help keep this all straight as there aren’t nearly enough lots per neighborhood or even per world in this damn game...

my least favorite part of scene building is actually decorating. lol. Don’t get me wrong, I love clutter. I honestly do. but fuck me if i expect myself to spend hours meticulously decorating a set, spend another 3 hours toggling back and forth b/w BB & live modes adjusting things to get rid of the damn routing errors. (yeah, yeah, i know i could ignore them, they’re not important, especially in those scenarios where i’m using a set for screenshots and nothing else, but idk. it really grinds my gears.) and then have to replace the lot like a week later because there aren’t enough lots in the game. *sigh*

3. CC/Pose Making - i do not consider myself to be a cc creator nor a pose maker but i do dabble occasionally. And to be completely honest i’d much rather spend my time doing other stuff, so it’s not high on my list of priorities atm. plus there are so many talented cc creators in this community; i can usually get by with what’s already out there.

4. Getting in the zone - Honestly, I do a lot of brainstorming for plot & dialogue in the shower. I don’t have any particular playlists to get me “in the writing mood” but I do enjoy listening to music as I work. Either instrumental stuff or simply artists/songs I like. If something just so happens to “fit” a scene I’m working on, one i’ve got planned, or even just gives me vibes for a certain character or group, I add a quick note to the top of said scene’s draft. Most of the time I stick it in the recesses of my brain and add a quick link when I finally get to the point of posting the draft to tumblr. For whatever reason, when I have one of those “oh this song is perfect for X” moments it’s essentially ingrained in my mind for the rest of eternity. 

5. The screenshot folder - this will most likely give some of you out there major anxiety. but i swear it’s an organized chaos. :)

yep. 32.9gb of screenshots & related things... 

So with the raws from a single random scene selected, you can see i take roughly 10 screenshots per image posted. not terrible i guess but i’m working on it. Typically I take screenshots and once I’m done editing a scene I’ll move them from the general folder to a more specific project folder.

6. Captions - I’ll answer this in three parts:

for my townie story. not really. I prefer using the text box. I tend to write (& re-write) the dialogue for each one of these scenes several times over as I add more “scenes” into my drafts. It would be incredibly inefficient, time consuming, and would waste a lot more space on my pc to have to save .psds of each image just so i could edit dialogue when I decide: “oh hey maybe so and so needs to bring up X in this scene” and then change my mind an hour later.

for niko, noor, & co. I’m a text on image type gal here. don’t really know why, but it gives the project a different energy. ironically it makes it feel more laid-back to me. which i guess makes sense, it’s a much more light-hearted “story” than my townie project. which is, imo, very soapy haha.

for legacy stuff. all text goes below the images in the text box. reasoning: it’s gameplay, I don’t brainstorm, outline, or pre-write for this. I play the game, take screenshots, plug ‘em into my drafts and write some commentary / dialogue to go along with it.

7. Editing - i am a creature of habit and have not majorly changed my editing process in probably a year and a half (when I began using reshade and had to adjust my color correcting psd). it’s a super basic system:

drag & drop my “color correction” psd.

run actions in ps. (i made my own “all-in-one” actions to really streamline the process; i have different “actions sets” for my premades’ story and for other things that get posted to tumblr. even if no one else notices it, i like the little details that keep my projects separate and “identifiable”. 

voila. all set to upload.

sometimes i crop images, add “text effects”, or do more in depth editing (i.e. editing a phone screen or adding rain etc.) but overall i try and keep it simple for myself. 

8. Throwback - i posted an image of one of the first (but never posted) scenes I’d written for my townie project up above. but as for how would i redo a scene i’d already posted. well i’m currently re-doing my townie story so i guess i’ll just say you’ll see how it’s redone when i get to part 1! 😉

anyway, no tags because i’m so embarrassingly late to this party but if you hadn’t gotten around to this tag, wanted to do it but didn’t get a tag, or started it and left it to sit and now you’re thinking “oh god that was months ago should i even post this anymore?!?” consider yourself tagged by me and go ahead and post it for all to see!

[thecandywrites]

Of Heaven and Fire Part 9

Woo. This was fun. *sharpens my knife of doubt* time for some stab stabb stabby. lol

Tagging @probablyclever​ @imherefortheforthefanart​ and @funmadnessandbadassvikings​

Of Heaven and Fire 

Part 9

When you reappeared out of your room to get some dinner, Cugas had you both eat in his private dining room so he could talk to both of you in peace. 

“Ok, so tell me what the fuck is really going on?” Cugas demanded. 

“We figured shit out.” Brock shrugged as he inhaled his own food as you did the same. 

“Figured what shit out?” Cugas pressed before you looked at Brock for permission to talk about it before he nodded his permission. Which that act in itself made him unbelievably pleased. 

“I need your help.” You began, looking pleadingly at Cugas. 

“What kind of help?” Cugas asked. 

“I need you and Brock to explain to me how orcs court.” You revealed. 

“Why?” Cugas wondered. 

“Because when the storm dies and we are faced with no option but go back to Suchi with our catch, I will be courted by a lot of individuals from all these backgrounds and cultures. And I need to make sure everyone gets their chance to keep it more or less “fair”. And I need to be informed of all of it in order to make my own rules on how to be courted while not dismissing anyone or putting anyone else at a disadvantage based on my own preference. And I can’t afford to cause offense to anyone, especially if myself, my family and my colony may hang in the balance, much less the lives of the other suitors.” You explained which seemed to be enough to get Cugas on board. 

“Well, orc courting is beautifully simple. You basically have one date that can have three parts. which can all take place in one night, the first part is simply going out drinking, telling stories and of course the classics- legends, folklore and myths and eating until you were both stuffed, if it goes well, the second part usually immediately follows- a friendly spar or wrestle to see how well you match up physically and that usually ends up in a coupling session and if that goes well and both found their pleasure and it’s a good match both in temperament and physicality, you go on a hunt together and the bigger the game caught the better and once the kill is presented to both respective families, showing that you two can work together as a team, which basically announces you as a couple, no ceremony needed.” Brock explained as you took a notes about that on the little journal you packed in your bag at your waist. 

“However in times of war and raid- it changes- if one is wounded, no matter the sex and if the other manages to save the wounded, be it in battle or before or after it, heal the wounded and make a meal, that’s basically the same as a proposal too or even before the war, battle raid, whatever the case may be- armor and or weapons are the perfect betrothal gifts. If however you were an ambitious orc and can afford it in order to woo the elite among the warchief’s many generals, commanders, captains, slayers and raiders- you cook a large meal- the bigger quantity of ingredients and better quality of not just the ingredients but also the spices and the way you cook it- low and slow so that the flavors are intense and the meat is tender and make it extra rich so that the flavor should stay in their mouth longer along with a ruck sack full of food and other supplies such as grooming supplies and especially medicinal herbs or premade medicine to serve the warrior in battle and if it pleases the warrior well, a quick but very passionate coupling session ensues- because going into battle with empty balls is seen as a blessing- so that your seed could take root and you would leave something behind to live up to any and all legends you would leave behind for them is the highest honor you could give the next generation- it would be the best last memory if the warrior died or it would be so good that it would give the intended extra motivation to come home if only to have this food again and come home to strong sons then that was also an acceptable betrothal as well.” Cugas explained as you took more notes. 

“However- there is also risk in going that route.” Cugas began to warn you. “Because you can have so many others competing for the most important orc warriors and your meal can always be compared to the others along with your empassioned coupling session and you run the risk of not being the only one his seed takes root in. Of course in that case- the warrior simply collects his favorite sons and leaves them with his favorite women and if he was successful enough, he could and can afford to keep a few of them and all of them serve a purpose. One is usually kept to raise kids, the bigger her bosom the more she could nurse and you need to have a smart one with a lot of common sense too to teach the little ones as much as possible, and one to keep house, cook the meals and such along with being in charge of money and supplies, and a third to either go into battle with you, keep the weapons sharp and the armor in good repair and if you find a woman to do all three you are especially lucky and such a women is highly sought after and competition for her is a battle of it’s own.” Cugas explained as he gave Brock a meaningful look. 

“But Brock knows more about it since he has more experience with that than I do.” Cugas hinted. 

“How much experience?” You turned to Brock who had his mouth too full to answer you- whether he did that on purpose or it was bad timing you couldn’t say. But he gave a dissmissive shake of his head and a reassuring look to you before you turned back to your plate to continue eating before giving a warning look to Cugas that you caught out of the corner of your eye. 

“Excuse me.” You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and in the mirror you saw Suriel in the reflection of the mirror which nearly gave you a heart attack before he held his hand to your mouth so you wouldn’t cry out in alarm before he pulled away and put his finger to his lips to keep you quiet before a scene showed on the mirror. 

It was Brock- receiving over a dozen ruck sacks and more food than he could ever eat in one sitting and weapons and medicines from over a dozen orc women and you saw exactly who was vying for him. They put so much effort and spent so many hours trying to make the perfect gifts and you could tell Brock took them because he needed them for the trip but you swiped at the mirror, not being able to stomach seeing if he actually indulged them fully or not before it fast-forwarded to when he got back and all of them were trying to heal his wounds that you inflicted and they practically fluttered around Brock everywhere he went, even at the docks while he was building your room and they all seemed to eye you with weariness if not contempt from a distance on the days you and Brock got a long and when you were fighting particularly hatefully- their smug grins seemed to be everywhere you looked. It was enough to have jealousy lick up your spine and sour your stomach. 

“Enough.” You begged in a whisper as you swiped at the mirror again, making it all disappear before a scroll appeared in the mirror. 

‘For your courting rules’ came Suriel’s voice in a whisper in your ear before you reached out and took it and pulled it out and opened it. Written clearly and perfectly were the rules and terms angels courted each other as well as his official offer for your hand. 

Shit. 

“I don’t like being watched.” You muttered to him as you looked up from it to give him a look in the mirror. 

“I know, while you are in your room, you are not I will respect your privacy, otherwise, all you have to do is call out my name and I will come. Besides you are in Cugas’ rooms. So I figured you would like to know you’re not alone.” Suriel reasoned. 

“Thank you, but I…” you began. 

“I know, I will keep your confidence, do not fear that I will expose you. I wish to be your trusted friend and companion in all this.” Suriel reassured you. 

“Thank you.” You thanked him as he came out of the mirror and hugged you. Which you realized you had sorely needed before he withdrew and then promptly vanished as you took a moment to recompose yourself. 

You remembered how one orc woman had even approached you and asked what the fuck you had done to the damn weapons because she was finding it impossible to fix them and you felt guilty about it and didn’t want her to get in trouble with the warchief and had helped her fix them and once they were all fixed and even improved with your own knowlege of blacksmithing from your father, you noticed shortly after how Brock had his new and now improved weapons back along with the warchief who had praised her and her skills for it. You had thought nothing of it at the time, thinking she was just a blacksmith like any other in the clan which you respected her for, but now, you were filled with doubts. 

If that wasn’t enough even as he was leaving for this voyage they were trying to give him even more little parting “gifts” for the journey, which he took and simply put into his own large bag. You just thought they were being nice, now- you understood better. But if he already had kids with any or all of these women and heirs, who would have greater claim to his title. affections and time, was it just a matter of time before he corralled and collected them before he dumped them on you? Or were you still just the moura prize he was so desperate for? What if he would just keep you to turn gold, birth more moura orcs and teach them everything you knew but still had his other wives to do everything else? Including warm his bed on what, a rotation? Could you stand it? Would your affection for him outweigh your jealousy? Could you respect yourself in that situation? And would you fare any differently if you were with a royal moura or heavenly moura? Who would still have affairs either in front of your face or behind your back? You knew from Suriel’s offer that he would forever and always be true to you which you believed wholeheartedly. Could Brock really do much better than that? Could he even match that? Or was that against his custom and culture? Or was he doing everything he could to get you and keep you? Even if he had to say what he thought you wanted to hear? What you honestly wanted to hear? You couldn’t say either way. 

You tucked the letter away and went back out. 

“So tell us about how mouras court.” Cugas eagerly insisted. 

“Well mouras are, of course, much more complicated. Granted it isn’t nearly as intense as Elvish courting or dwarf courting, but close.” You warned them before you sat back down to continue eating.  

“For mouras, it’s all about the dancing. The body in motion. Performance both to see and be seen.” You revealed. 

“Heavenly mouras court at their many balls and galas and can take years to court properly, most take about a decade.” You began.

“Shit, that’s a whole lifetime for most of us.” Cugas frowned. 

“Well, for mouras, heavenly ones especially live- on average 3 to 5 hundred years, a decade is nothing. Mountain moura are lucky to get half of that and royal moura a small fraction of that, most are lucky to see 100.” You countered gently with a small shrug of your shoulders.  

“Besides at these balls and galas it’s all very elaborate and intricate dancing with equally elaborate and intricate music accompaniment, there’s so many distinctly different dances than I could ever count off the top of my head, there are volumes of books describing thousands of dances one could and should dance at court and new dances are being invented all the time. You learn to dance with your siblings as a youngling first and each person spends countless hours perfecting their person and their moves and the subtleties are of course of great importance and you’re judged accordingly and according to your breeding which your own parents take great pains to practically drill into their children because one wrong move could bring shame not only to yourself but to your family as well.” You revealed before you stood up and changed your outfit into such a gown and put your wings out and got into the position your own mother taught you to illustrate what you were saying. 

“The gown of course is important, ever changing with the dance itself so you don’t trip over it and of course eye catching and luxurious.” You gestured to the extravagant gown. 

“It’s about how you hold your head, how you hold yourself and your posture and poise and countenance is extremely important. How you hold your arms- they are supposed to look relaxed yet primed for movement, delicate yet robust, your hands like elegant doves on the wing. Like any good ballerina or geisha. Your legs have to be shapely and strong, flexible and swift yet graceful.” You explained as you posed for them so that they could see this for themselves before you started to walk around the room. 

“Your gait has to be smooth, that at any speed it was smooth like you are on wheels and your feet steady yet nimble, quick and silent when in slippers but confident in hard shoes with a heel so that the strikes should be sharp and powerful.” You demonstrated.

“Your facial expression- schooled to be soft and gentle, approachable and friendly yet serenely calm and composed yet strong and resilient- your jaw should be sharp enough to cut glass with and your cheekbones should be high like the clouds themselves. Your mouth- the perfect soft small smile, your lips- forever full and almost pouty, closed and gently curving up, in a smirk but without smugness, so that anyone looking on across a room would see you at your best because everyone looked best smiling and when your smile bloomed brighter at someone, so that your teeth shine like bright white pearls- it would be a priceless treasure. Your eyes of course have to be lidded perfectly- too wide- you looked alarmed or even worse- crazy, too lidded you looked sleepy and bored which could be disastrously offensive. But just right- you should look both clever and keen, mischievous yet innocent, fun and exciting but not exhausting or heaven forbid stupid or even worse dull. You were supposed to look- at all times- in a word- enchanting, and these rules apply to everyone and all genders.” You explained as you continued to demonstrate what you were talking about. Using yourself as the example before you turned around and opened your wings as wide as they could go in this room. 

“Wings are their own category- how you hold them, tall, proud and confident was good, but too high and you tire quickly because it isn’t natural. Too low however- instead of being perceived as humble- it will be read as insecure and unsure of yourself. Which is just begging for someone to come along and feed your ego if only to take control of you. It showes a weakness of mind and personality. Any asymmetry is seen as an imperfection in your genetics and heavenly moura would rather pluck the offending feather out than have asymmetry. Perfectly symmetrical wings are of course the standard and ideal. However much can be said about your wing shape, proportions and size. The larger the wings, the better in some cases but I personally don’t agree, smaller wings give you more dexterity and are easier to fly but larger wings help you glide better. So personally I think a happy medium is best but heavenly moura don’t agree.” You explained as you showed off how you could hold your wings and have them up or down or hold them out or hold them in such a way to show them off or simply how they naturally sat when you were at rest and not thinking about it before you turned back around to look at your feathers. 

“But what is even more highly prized are the quality of the feathers, the feathers show everything and heavenly mouras spend countless hours grooming and preening their wings.” You explained as you started to preen your feathers, not having been able to do so in a long time as you reached in and smoothed the oils at the base of the feather down each one. “The color, shade and tone of your feathers is also extremely important, white is of course- ideal, but colored wings always have their fashionableness too, the queen of the heavenly moura herself is silver and the king is of course white feathered but together their children have a platinum effect to their wings which is of course gorgeous and they all know it which…” You began as you looked at the variety of feathers you had on your wings before you found a few by the edge that had this before you pointed the feather out to them. “See? Now imagine if every feather on my wings were like these few.” You explained before you put them back into place. “You can even dye your wings the way anyone could dye their hair but the results aren’t always good, often the only way to get rid of it is to molt- which takes a few weeks to a month and a half and if you molted during a holiday or something, of course you missed out on socializing because molted wings are unseemly. But having wings that needed to be molted is even worse- which is a heavy punishment for naturally gregarious and extroverted species where socializing is everything.  If you have white feathers with flashes, iridescence, incandescent and shimmers of other colors- including white with pearl, metallic and sparkling effects, that’s also seen as beautiful but I have so much color in my wings I would be seen as “wild” to heavenly moura but these effects can be achieved through beauty treatments which could cost you a lot.” You explained. 

“Like what kind of beauty treatments?” Brock asked curiously. 

“Um, royal moura sell benar to heavenly moura…”  

“What are benar?” Cugas asked. 

“Oh, these,” you explained as you got into your little purse and pushed aside the letter from Suriel to get the few you had. 

“These are benar, moura cry them when under great distress. They’re like diamonds, and heavenly moura’s lives are so great that they never have reason to cry them and some of them have lost the ability all together so they’ll buy them from royal moura who cry them the most and then they’re ground up into a powder and rubbed into the wings to give them that diamond and platinum effect.” You explained. 

“Of course when wings are seen in moonlight- for mouras- moonlight acts like black light and their own moura marks can glow on their skin without them even having to be ‘turned on’ in moonlight and their feathers can reveal their own patterns in the wings themselves because wings reflect your genetics and to a degree, your personality too. And that the way moura’s read each other’s wings is as quickly as one could read another’s facial expression and body language to determine mood mixed with the sophistication and intricacies of reading palms or eyes. The accuracy of your reading holds your own future. Because if you read and understand the true potential of the other and if they can accurately read and understand your own- a great match can be made. The more beautiful and splendid your feathers- the more beautiful and splendid you are and therefore the more beautiful and splendid your partner should be and therefore the more beautiful and splendid your children should be as well. And of course there are so many books written about how to properly do it.” You explained before you tired of having your wings out because they were very heavy before you pulled your wings back in so you can sit down and rest and continue eating. 

“So what do heavenly moura use as money?” Brock asked curiously. 

“Well heavenly moura don’t have “money” per se but with heavenly moura gaining all their strength from the sun so that they have no need for food and can change clouds into whatever they want for housing with their moura cloaks being whatever clothing they want, most can’t imagine what would they need money for. But there is always an exception, wings of course being the exception and those benar aren’t cheap and royal moura need something tangible for them so heavenly mouras can coruscate clouds, and turn the clouds into light emitting balls of fluff that with just a touch of a finger- can turn them off and on in varying brightness like a touch lamp. They have soft light like candle light or lanterns but brighter than both like light from a light bulb but without the need for electricity. Light from coruscate clouds or simply coru clouds is the only real commodity heavenly moura have besides their own persons. Most heavenly moura leaving the heavens to be on the surface make a living turning fog and mist into coru clouds, it takes a lot of energy but my mother is especially gifted and her coru clouds are purposefully dimmer- specifically to serve as nightlights and she is able to imbue the light with splashes of color that swirl and dance in patterns and practically hypnotize children into sleep, something my mother is particularly famous for in Suchi. So much so that she has a business where others pay her enormous sums to learn the techniques she has mastered and uses so that they can do the same in the other colonies but like any great artisan, she has her own trademark styles. Her most famous student takes those techniques and makes party lights out of her coru clouds which are insanely popular during the solstices and other festivals and celebrations. The most popular coru lights however are black light coru light. They are made using the light of blue moons on clouds in the heavens or thick fog on the surface, it takes a lot of skill to do it right. Plus every house in every colony has special designs drawn on them with special paints that only show up under the light of the moon and is especially bright during blue moons so that on those beautifully rare blue moons, the colonies light up like opals in the mountains.” You explained in a fond smile and you will have thought Cugas was beyond smitten just hearing about it all. He was such a romantic. Bless his heart and soul. 

“Ok, so back to the courting rituals though, what are the mountain moura courting rituals?” Brock asked, bringing you back to the subject. 

“Well mountain moura are different from heavenly moura in key ways. Similar in that moura’s fly and dance a lot in their courting rituals on the solstices but there was of course more to it. Mountain moura are different in that wings and feathers mean very little to us. Sure to have aesthetically pleasing wings is a bonus but not a necessity and if there are asymmetries- that is simply a fun uniqueness to the individual and even if you are a moura born without the wings or a moura cloak, it doesn’t count you out at all you don’t even have to be moura to be counted in. If you can dance and dance with grace, stamina and exuberance and lest anyone forget- rhythm, you’re all set. Besides, your personality and merits are way more important. Of course if you have skills like cooking and cleaning and self sufficiency and if you are good with money- those are the real bars and standards. And if you have skills that bring you gainful employment- it’s a huge bonus. We put more focus on whether or not your personalities were a good fit with us individually. So if you’re easy going and get along with everyone? Guess what, the more you’ll be sought after. So Cugas, I’m serious, once people get to know you, you’ll be a hundred times more popular than he will be.” You said as he gestured to Brock who gave you a frown as Cugas nearly fell off his chair laughing and cheering for himself. 

“Yes!” Cugas cheered. “So do you know how royal moura court?” Cugas asked. 

“I do. For royal moura it is entirely different than heaven or mountain moura. Dancing is of course a performance and has the same seriousness that heavenly moura put with it- in that perfection is always the standard and any mistakes are severely punished. But all it means is that you were a good dancer. What really counts is how you play the political game- how you use intrigue and schemes, how you accumulate your wealth and loyalties and how you use them. Courting is usually all for show to the courts anyway. Because it is all decided by the council, but if you find yourself unevenly matched or you simply hated who you are matched with- it is up to you to persuade the council to change it. Easy to do when you endear yourself to its members or if a relative is on the council, and competition for their favor is as vicious and ruthless as any war and far more devastating when you lose it. It is all about who you know rather than what you know and how many informers and influencers you have because most have a “representative” in every court everywhere and up to 80% of most courts are all representatives to others and it’s just a huge fucking web, mostly of lies but that’s how you play the game. The greater power you have, the more influence you have and therefore the more allegiance you garner and amass. Alliances can be made, bought, earned and won just as easily as they are traded, stolen, lost and broken like the winds themselves. True loyalties are always a mystery. And life in the royal courts is far more trouble than it’s worth.” You explained, disdain clear in your tone which got Cugas to smirk as Brock felt guilty because a little bit of that could be good for his place as warchief. 

“Of course with moura genetics- many of them don’t even have cloaks, and if you were one of the very lucky few to be born with one- it is snatched as soon as it grows and given to the most powerful to cement their own places but it guarentees your safety and often the mother of the one who has the cloak basically sells it to the highest bidder and they get to go off and live in peace, luxury and comfort for the rest of their lives and don’t have to be entangled in anything and each court has either a palace or a group of palaces called “cloak palaces” a palace and servants just for the owner of the cloak.” You revealed before you gave another questioning look to Brock before you nodded over to Cugas before Brock gestured his permission for you to reveal what you wanted. 

“Now, do you mind if I look for something?” You asked Cugas. 

“Sure.” Cugas invited before you got up and moved his own thick braids from the back of his neck. 

“Oh, ok, you’re looking for something on me.” Cugas muttered as he pushed his head forward so you could see his golden moura mark on his neck clearly. 

“Is there something about my birthmark?” He asked. 

“Yes,” you confirmed as you began to massage his neck as he practically melted in his chair as you found all 8 neck vertebrae. 

“This isn’t a normal birth mark, it’s a gold moura mark.” You revealed. 

“What?! No.” He denied. 

“See? I have one too.” You said as you sat in his lap and pulled the moura collar away so he could see yours too. 

“No way.” Cugas breathed. 

“See this gold collar in my clothes as you turned just the fabric around the collar sheer so as not to expose yourself. 

“This is the moura cloak. It grows out of the mark when you’re little. See how it lines up when you put it on?” You said as you put it back on before taking it off and back again to demonstrate it.

“All moura’s have that mark, whether or not they grow a cloak or not. It’s mark you share with countless others. You guys are the first moura orcs I know of.” You revealed as you turned to face him as he happily held you in his lap comfortably. 

“Really? My mother and his mother have it too.” He revealed. 

“He’s told me that means that you’re all moura orcs. But look here…” You began as you took another sheet of paper out of your journal and drew out the moura genetics chart you grew up on. 

“So mouras have weak genetics, they have a very short half life.” You explained. “So lets take heavenly moura since their own genetics are the most pure. You take a heavenly moura and you breed him or her with say a human, all their children will have moura marks with a moura cloak with all the powers and abilities. Great right? Well this is as good as it gets. Now all the children when they have children and say all of them have ten children. Only 9 out of those 10 children will have full moura and the one who doesn’t have full moura will be half moura. So that means something like this grows.” You demonstrated as what looked like capelet. “And their wings are small like this.” You continued to demonstrate as tiny hummingbird like wings showed before you pulled them back in. “They can only turn half as much gold as their other siblings. But otherwise to look at them and to listen to them you would never know that they’re the half.” You explained. 

“Now let’s just stick to the full bloods for now, now you take this second generation full blood and they marry another human, they have ten kids, now 2 of the ten are half mouras and you continue like this until all ten children all are all halves. Past this point- it starts to become a recessive gene. Now when these kids have kids, again- let's use 10 as the standard, now instead of all of them having halves, now 1 out of 10 doesn’t have any moura traits, their golden neck mark is still there but no moura cloak grows. And other than that mark, you are now no different than any other person, you can’t turn gold, you can’t cry benar, you can’t change forms. You just have a cool gold tattoo on the back of your neck and you’re now what’s called a res. Now you continue down and soon you get to all of your children are now recessives. And sure all mouras have leanings, mostly to arts and music and creatives and you may be still gifted in certain aspects but that’s as far as you get.” You explained as you drew it out. 

“Now there is a cool thing that now that you have all these recessives and halves, there’s ways to breed so that one of your children will be a full again but instead of by a magnitude of 10 it’s now by fourths. So you get a half and a half and a quarter of the children will be full moura half of them will be halves but the last fourth- will be something called quarter moura and the quarter moura will have one ability that they’re normal on, the others, are half. Like they’ll be able to turn gold but they’ll only be able to heal half as good as a full. Or they’ll be able to heal great but won’t be able to turn gold well. Or they’ll be musically gifted, like savant good and have voices that make heavenly moura turn their heads but that’s the extent of it and they won’t turn gold well or heal well. It’s a chances game at that point. Now recessives- you breed a recessive to a recessive and then it’s a multiple of four- 1 in 4, 1 in eight, 1 in 16, 32, 64 or 128 chance of having a full moura depending on how far down the line your recessive parents are and this one in 64 and one in 128 is where royal mouras are at with their genetics. That’s why moura cloaks among royalty are so coveted and snatched the moment you grow a cloak, even a half cloak is worth something to them.” You explained. “Now, recently, since the odds have started to get like this- royal council moura have called and pleaded with heavenly moura for members to reinfiltrate the royal courts, in exchange for all the benar the royal members want. Granted they don’t have the same prestiege the royal moura have but they have the genetics because when a full mates with even a recessive- the cycle returns to this one.” You pointed back to the beginning. “So far each court has gotten one full blood back into them within the last. oh, 2-3 generations, my mother’s sister being the last to join her court- the Morr- about 30 years ago.” You revealed.

“So can you tell where we are on all this? Am I recessive then? Cause I don’t have a cloak?” Cugas asked. 

“Once we get to Suchi, she’ll be able to ask around and research it to figure it out.” Brock intergected which Cugas nodded his agreement and understanding to. 

“But you want to see a cool moura trick?” You asked him. 

“Hell yeah.” He agreed. 

“Come here, by the mirror.” You pulled him over to the mirror. 

“Now, don’t take this wrong but take your shirt off.” You giggled as he laughed himself but obliged. 

“Now, this is called lira light.” You revealed as you pulled it into your hand. 

“And when you put lira light into a moura- it turns on their moura marks.” You explained as you gently laid your hand over his chest and pushed the light into it before they lit up and practically filled the room which made Cugas start to cry. 

“This is so beautiful.” He wept happy tears. 

“These are your moura marks, you’re beautiful.” You gently corrected as little tears pricked your own eyes before you turned your own on. 

“Mine are bigger than yours!” He noted. 

“Well, that’s because your moura ancestors are greater than mine.” You smiled. 

“Shut up, that’s not true.” He bashfully dismissed. 

“And yet look with your own eyes, aren’t they bigger, brighter and more numerous than mine?” You pointed out happily. 

“Maybe that’s because I’m bigger than you are.” He argued.  

“Cugas, even if you were an infant, your moura marks are like this, the physical size of the individual moura has no bearing on the actual moura marks. However if you have nobility or royalty in your heritage that’s what makes moura marks like these so great.” You revealed.

“Wait, you mean my ancestors were royal?” He gushed excitedly. 

“Well maybe a minor royal but very easily- great nobility, if you were royalty, we would all be blind because they’re so big and so bright.” You explained before he outright squealed in delight. 

“Sorry.” He apologized but you waived it off. 

“Oh don’t be sorry about outbursts like that, they make you likable and adorable.” You reassured him. 

 “Like I said, you’re gonna be the most coveted man in the colony when we get to Suchi. You will be able to get anyone or as many anyones as you want.” You laughed. “Trust me, the fact that you’re orc? Oh you’ll be treated like a special treasure because that alone makes you incredibly rare. I mean look at you. You’re handsome, sweet, sincere, charming and romantic which that alone would be enough for the masses to faint at your feet. You’re gonna need a ‘rules to date me’ ttoo and we’ll need to go to the printing houses to use their printing presses to have them printed because your hand will fall off trying to write so many copies.” You gently teased. 

“Oh my gods, stop, you’re filling my head with nonsense.” He tried to brush off as his blush got deeper and deeper and his smile nearly split his face in half and his tone you could tell he was basking in all this. 

“Oh all I need to arm you with is a book of poetry and you read that in the square with one of the many magnificent fountains behind you? Artists will gather to paint your portrait while others will come for that deep velvety voice and if you can read with feeling, oh you’ll be practically famous, treated like a rockstar. Oh you may not even need the poetry, you go off telling all those famous orc myths and folklore, they’ll be eating out of your hands. Because mouras- our voices are naturally a little higher pitched than most at rest but your dark, deep and smooth one with just a hint of growl and gravel? Oh you’ll draw them in like moths to a flame.” You flattered. 

“You really think so?” Cugas asked. 

“I know so, or at least that’s what my gut is telling me.” You cooed as Brock just rolled his eyes as he snuck your favorite choice bites from his plate to yours. 

“See? This is what I meant when I said we worked shit out.” Brock explained. 

Cugas just huffed and rolled his eyes in response. 

“So do they get to stay on or do they fade or what?” Cugas asked you as he gestured to his moura marks around him. 

“Um they’ll fade after a while, for a moura, one of our abilities we have to learn is how to mentally turn them off and on again.” You began. 

“So what you can do, is now think- dark thoughts but not dark like disturbing, but dark like a dark room with no light in it, just black nothingness.” You tried to explain before Cugas closed his eyes and you could tell he was trying really hard to think but all the did was make them brighter because he was thinking about them as you and Brock had to squint. 

“No, darker not brighter dumbass.” Brock put his hand in front of his face to shield his eyes. 

“Shut up.” Cugas grunted. 

“Ok, ok, Cugas, clear your head, just follow my voice, now, think of a candle, at the end of it’s wick, the flame is getting smaller and smaller, dimmer and dimmer,” You coached calmly and slowly, a skill you had perfected as you had helped teach your own younger siblings how to do this when they were little and slowly but surely they started to fade as he peeked to see for himself. “Now, a small wind blows and…” you blew a soft breath out like you were slowly blowing out a candle. 

“It’s out.” You ended before they were gone. 

“You did it!” You cheered as he opened his eyes and beamed a happy smile at you.

“I did!” He mirrored. 

“Is this also why my tattoos glow when...uh, I’m...excited?” He worded delicately. 

“Yes, that’s normal for mouras.” You reassured him. 

“Oh, cool!” He beamed. “Now I can’t wait till we get to Suchi.” He gushed. 

[anna-mator]

How to Draw a Toon - (In-Progress) Fandom: Warner Bros, Looney Tunes, Disney, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Animaniacs, Rating: M Categories: M/M Relationships: (eventual) Bugs/Daffy Warnings: Language, moderate violence, cartoon violence, racism, Additional tags: friends to lovers, mystery, adventure

<< FIRST CHAPTER | 

When the Warner’s alarm went off, it was always a race between the two brothers to see who’d turn it off first. If Yakko got lucky, he’d be the one to turn it off first. Otherwise, Wakko would simply use his trusty mallet. This morning, Yakko was able to jolt awake just in time to stop Wakko’s mallet from hammering down onto the alarm. He tossed it aside and then hit the snooze button.

Yakko sat up slowly, disturbing his younger siblings only slightly. Being between the two, he managed to worm his way out of their sleepy grasps and slide off of the bed. He smiled to himself, deciding to let them sleep in just a little longer.

After his morning-care routine, Yakko headed downstairs. Unsurprisingly, Bugs was already up and hovering over the stove. Knowing how jumpy Bugs was, Yakko announced himself. “Mornin’ Bugs...” he chimed.

Bugs turned around and gave Yakko a nod. “Good morning. You get your sibs up yet?” He asked.

“Eehh… I thought I’d let ‘em sleep in.” Yakko told him before moving to make himself a bowl of cereal.

“You spoil ‘em more than I do.” Bugs chuckled, turning back to the hot meal on the stove.

“I’m their big brother. I’m allowed.” Yakko said it before he could really stop it.

The two went deadly silent. It had been a year since he had taken them in, and Bugs still had no idea where he stood. Was he simply an acting mentor? Was he some kind of parental guardian? No one who was involved really knew. At some point in Bugs’ life, he remembered having decided against having kids. And yet, he took in the three without any hesitation.

Once Yakko made his cereal, he carried it over and sat down on a barstool chair under the kitchen island. He ate and watched Bugs prepare breakfast for the rest of them. Finally, Bugs broke the silence.

“Daffy is stayin’ wit’ us.” He mentioned.

Yakko swallowed, “Oh really? Why here? Couldn’t find himself a private island off the coast of Malibu?” He asked.

“Dat, I’m sure.” Bugs chuckled, “Also, I thought it’d be easier for us to work on school stuff. Dat and I figured it’d be nice to have some help around the house.”

“Oh right, your school.” Yakko remembered, “You sure you really want to hire Daffy as a teacher?” He asked.

“Why is everyone askin’ me dat?” Bugs felt slightly annoyed, “I brought Daffy on because he’s my friend. He’s great with kids and he’s been in this business for as long as I have. Longer, if you can believe it.” He defended.

Yakko wasn’t entirely convinced, still he nodded. “If you say so.” He said.

“You three were invited to the ribbon cuttin’ ceremony yesterday, by the way.” Bugs mentioned, shooting a glare at Yakko.

“Ooh… was that yesterday?” Yakko asked, pushing away his now empty cereal bowl. “Well, you know how it is sometimes. We all get so carried away on set and we end up home later than usual.”

“Uh-huh.” Bugs said, not quite sure he believed Yakko, “Ya mind waking up your kin? This is almost ready.” He said.

“I’m on it.” Yakko said, hopping down from his chair and making his way back upstairs.

When Yakko reached their bedroom, he saw Dot fully ready to go. Wakko, however, was still sound asleep and had taken over as much as he could of the California king-sized bed. After a solid few minutes of Yakko working to peel his sibling off of the bed, Wakko was up and able to start his routine.

Once they were all ready, the three came downstairs to see the kitchen table full of food. Dot eagerly sat down in a seat Bugs pulled out for her. Wakko raced to his seat at the table and began to pile his plate with the assortments of food. Once Yakko and Bugs sat down, Bugs turned to Wakko and Dot.

“I wanted to let you both know I invited Daffy to stay wit’ us.” Bugs told them, taking a bite of his breakfast.

At that, the two of them looked super pleased. “Hooray!” Wakko cheered before chowing down.

“That’s great! And for how long?” Dot asked curiously.

After hearing that, it only just occurred to Bugs that he had absolutely no long-term ideas concerning Daffy. Was he going to help him hunt for another estate? Daffy made it clear last night that the rent was ‘so damn high’, Bugs wasn’t sure Daffy was looking for a permanent stay. If he wanted to continue being a teacher, it was clear he would have to come up with some kind of living arrangement. While he was thinking along those lines, why did Daffy even agree to a teacher’s salary? Surely after all their royalty checks, he didn’t exactly need the extra income. Daffy’s motives were obviously very unclear to Bugs.

Bugs swallowed his food, “Eeehh… We’ll see.” He said carefully.

As if on cue, the three siblings caught sight of Daffy floating mid-air down the hallway, past the living room and into the closest seat at the kitchen table. Bugs had watched him and couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He took the act as a high compliment in regards to his cooking.

Daffy gave a smile and a small sigh when he opened his eyes to the plethora of food at his disposal. Immediately, he began to eat. “Oh man, I could get used to this.” Daffy said more to himself than anyone.

After a moment, Bugs’ cleared his throat slightly. “Eh, Daff… I was hopin’ to go over some stuff about the school today.” He said.

“Today? No can do.” Daffy said, pulling out a cellphone from behind his back, “I have about five different interviews, three of them are public appearances and I have just about fifteen different emails asking for article interviews.” He said.

Bugs’ felt his ear twitch in annoyance. “Didn’t you just fly in yesterday?” He asked.

“What does that have to do with anything? I’m Daffy Duck. Soon to be Professor Daffy Duck!”

“Not if I decide I don’t like what you’re gonna be teachin’ at my school.”

Watching the two banter was like watching a tennis match for the siblings. Especially considering the two were at separate ends of the kitchen table.

Daffy glared right back at Bugs with no fear. “Then why don’t you come up with whatever I’ll be teaching, huh?” He asked.

“Daff, I’m the principal of the only school in Toon Town. There’s no official district to tell us what we should be teachin’. I jus’ wanna make sure we’ll be doin’ this right.” Bugs told him. After a moment, he realized Daffy wasn’t going to budge so Bugs rolled his eyes. “Fine. How’s about this? You go an’ make your way around L.A., do all your lil interviews, and once you get back ‘ere we go over school stuff... If not tonight, then tomorrow... Capiche?”

“Fine.” Daffy said simply, though it didn’t seem like he was too happy about it.

Once the two were done arguing, Yakko decided to speak up. “Well, we better get goin’...”

The siblings took that as a cue to stand up from their places, with Wakko being the last as he shoveled in the rest of his food as quickly as he could. Daffy watched curiously when Bugs stood up and walked to the kitchen, pulling out three paper bags from the fridge. “Y’all have your studio passes?” He asked.

“I have the studio passes, this time.” Yakko said, presenting the three lanyards for Bugs to see. “Cuz we all know what happened to Wakko’s last week.”

“I got hungry…” Wakko said with a small pout.

“When are you not hungry, Wakko?” Dot asked, to which Wakko only answered with a giggle.

Bugs began to hand over their premade lunches when they were at the door, “Remember, you run into any problems on set you call me… alright?” He asked. Bugs was satisfied when he saw them nod in agreement.

“Eehhh… could you venmo a couple bucks for the Uber?” Yakko asked.

“Your account should have a hundred smackaroons already…” Bugs said, looking suspiciously at Yakko.

“What can I say? I leave ‘em great tips.” Yakko said with a smile.

“...You’re on dish duty when you get home, Yakko.” Bugs said, pulling out his phone.

Yakko rolled his eyes, took the three lunches Bugs had provided and walked through the door. Dot hugged Bugs before she turned away, “Bye, Bugs!” She chirped.

Bugs gave her a wave and looked on as Wakko gave his own wave, “See ya, Dad!” And saw a mixture of amusement and horror spread across his black and white face.

The word felt like something had hit Bugs’ chest and knocked the air out of him. As if to soften this blow, Bugs immediately returned with a rushed sounding, “GoodbyeWakko!!” and slammed the door shut.

When the three got in their designated car, Wakko looked at Yakko. “Did I mess up?” He asked, with a small blush on his white cheeks.

Yakko sighed slightly, “No kiddo, you didn’t mess up. I’m sure Bugs is taking it in stride.” He said. “It’d probably be best to try and not to say it again until he gives the okay though, alright?”

In the house, Bugs had hoped Daffy hadn’t heard the exchange. He had hoped he wouldn’t read into the deep blush that had bloomed across his fluffy cheeks. But as soon as Bugs looked up and down the hall, he saw a smug look plastered on Daffy’s face.

Bugs almost wanted to run away, but he couldn’t. Instead he sat up and walked over to Daffy. “Why are you givin’ me dat look?” He asked.

“So much for the biggest Bachelor of Toon Town. You realize once the paparazzi get in on this, you’re rep is gonna take a whole ‘nother turn.” Daffy said.

“Unlike you, I don’t care what anyone else thinks of me or what I do with my life.” Bugs snapped.

“If you say so.” Daffy said, his smug look never going away, “Personally, I think fatherhood suits you.” He told Bugs. “And who knows what could happen if this household had a more womanly touch?”

After hearing that, Bugs knew what Daffy was trying to say. He shook his head, “Oh I see, you like to think Lola suits me… Cuz you and nearly half of da world thinks she and I were made for each other.” He said.

“Bugs… She was literally created for you.” Daffy said.

“No! She was a Toon created for one movie in the nineties, to be cast in the role of my love interest. Nothin’ more.” Bugs corrected. Do you know what that does to a Toon’s psyche? He nearly asked, but kept it to himself.

“But you two were together, eventually. And I distinctly remember that the only reason you two broke it off was because you told me you didn’t want kids, and she did.” Daffy pointed out.

Bugs felt his cheeks ignite once more, “Believe you me, dat wasn’t the only reason.” He said.

Daffy hovered over Bugs as he began to clear up the kitchen table. “Oh really? Pray tell, what else was there? Did she snore? Was she draining your wallet? Did she have an annoying laugh? Did she cheat on ya?” He interrogated.

“What’s it to ya, Duck?” Bugs asked, continuing to ignore his friend’s line of questioning.

“Look, any Toon with half a brain would give their left foot to have a perfectly drawn counterpart like that. To get a fraction of what every iconic Toon couple has.” Daffy told Bugs, “Like Donald and Daisy, like Popeye and Olive Oyl, like Spiderman and whatever her name is.”

“Mary-Jane…” Bugs finished for him.

“That’s what I said.” Daffy said immediately. Bugs rolled his eyes and carried a stack of empty dishes to the kitchen sink.

Years before Daffy had moved to his private island, he remembered Bugs and Lola being the hottest couple in Toon Town. The two were featured on tabloids and TV shows, and their joint merchandise sold like crazy. They had been happy and nearly inseparable. Now, Daffy couldn’t even find a single picture of Lola inside Bugs’ house.

“What happened to you two?” Daffy asked.

“Don’t you have interviews to get to?” Bugs asked loudly as he turned on the faucet and began to rinse off his dishes. “I thought your day was soo busy!”

Daffy looked offended, “You don’t wanna tell your best friend about your previous relationship when he asks, then fine!” He exclaimed.

Bugs stopped what he was doing and shut off the sink immediately. “You wanna pull that card, eh?” He asked dangerously. “Last time I checked, best friends didn’t leave one anoda high and dry in a mansion off the coast of Central America!” He shouted back.

“Hey! Communication is a two-way street, bub! You coulda called or visited me any time!”

“Yeah sure Daff, lemme just hop on my private jet to my private yacht and snorkel my way to your front door when I need you most.” Bugs felt and swallowed a small lump that formed in his throat after saying that.

“Why would you swim to shore when I have a perfectly good runway for the private jet?” Daffy asked, more confused than anything.

“Missin’ the point, as usual.” Bugs said, disappointingly. He felt a headache coming on when he turned the water back on in the sink,  “Maybe invitin’ you to stay wasn’t such a good idea.”

“Are you throwing me out?” Daffy asked.

“I jus’ might, if you don’t leave for those interviews soon.” Bugs said, throwing Daffy a harsh glare over his shoulder.

Daffy turned away and threw his arms into the air. “Fine! I’ll go, I’ll go…” He said with a low grumble.

Minutes later, without another word between them, Daffy was in the backseat of a hired car and driving away from Bugs’ house. He pulled out his phone and rang up his agent. It was clear to Daffy that he had missed out on a lot of Bugs’ life. He was going to make it his mission to bring himself up to speed. As soon as he heard the other line pick up Daffy didn’t hesitate, “Cancel Conan, I’m making dinner plans with a certain pig.” He said.

“Are you sure, sir? Conan is a big gig. He’s really curious about Bugs’ school.” His agent asked.

“Then tell ‘im to get Bugs on his damn show.” Daffy said lamely before hanging up.

Once that was cleared up he dialed another number, “H- h- ah- hello?” The other end asked.

“Porky! My ol’ pal! I’m sure you’ve heard about it already, but I’m in town--”

“N- n- nuh- uh, no.” Porky stammered.

“--and I thought we’d play a little bit of catch-up! Whaddya say?” Daffy asked.

“W- w- well I’m uh- I’m a lil busy…” The other Toon started to say.

“Nonsense! Let’s do tonight at seven. I’ll send you the address.” Daffy said and then quickly hung up.

Hours later, Daffy walked up to the restaurant to claim his reservation for two. The place was dark, seemingly only lit by fairy lights, therefore making it a little difficult to see for most. Luckily, Toons were created to see in low light situations. Once he had reached his tall wooden booth, Daffy began to order. Not too long after, he saw Porky Pig approach his table and sit down.

“Okay Porky, I’m gonna need a rundown of every major life event I’ve missed in Bugs’ life since I’ve been gone.” Daffy said, without exchanging any sort of pleasantries.

Porky sat across from Daffy with a blank stare. “You- you uh think I’m his chronicler? He- he- his secretary? Why w- why do you wanna know this all of a sudden?” He asked.

“I’m staying with him. And since I’ve been with him I’ve learned that he’s been watching the Warners, started a Toon school, cut out Lola from his life and looks terrible after all of that. You and I are his only friends in this life—“

“Ab ab- We’re definitely not his only friends.” Porky tried to interject.

“—and if we don’t find out what’s eating him up inside soon, it could be too late!” Daffy proclaimed dramatically.

“D- d- does he owe you something?” Porky asked curiously.

“Porky, I’m trying to do something decent for my best friend: find out the stressors in his life and stop them.” Daffy said, crossing his arms.

“I d- don’t understand why you don’t just ask him.”

“We had an argument.” Daffy mentioned, “Plus, you know how secretive Bugs can get.”

Porky sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get out of this no matter what. He had learned by now that when either Bugs or Daffy had their mind on something, they would see it through.

“Listen… all I- all I know is that shortly after The Looney Tunes Show was cancelled, Lola and Bugs broke up.” Porky said.

“But how? They were the jewels of Toon Town! They were inseparable. They did all sorts of mushy couple stuff. Even before the show, Bugs helped get her athletic career going. And Lola went to every sleazy bar and fancy casino Bugs could gig at when he was trying to get into stand up during the late 90s. You remember that, right?” Daffy asked.

The phrase that had haunted Porky for years finally slipped out, “S- she changed. That’s what he said, anyway.” He said. He had heard it from the drunken lips of Bugs Bunny himself. To this day, he didn’t know exactly what it meant, but the way he said it still unnerved him.

Daffy sat in silence for a long time. “Changed… what? How? When?” He asked, feeling even more confused than ever.

Porky shook his head. “I d- I d- I don’t know. My best guess has been that they just grew ah, grew apart.” He said.

Daffy wasn’t fully convinced. “There’s gotta be more to it. You sure he didn’t tell you anything else?”

“No.” He said quickly, “Bu- bu- but I will say. Ever since he’s had this idea for a Toon school, he’s been becoming more paranoid and stressed.” Porky pointed out. Immediately, Daffy thought back to last night where Bugs nearly caved his skull in with a bat. “And- and I don’t think raising those rambunctious kids on his own is doing much good. So, if you can, try to stay on his goo- goo- uh, good side and help him out.”

Daffy gave a small huff in Porky’s direction. “Yeah okay…”

Back at Bugs’ place, he had spent all day working from home. Brainstorming different classes, sending follow up emails to potential teachers and over all trying to think about his school. He knew that a lot of people, especially Toons, were expecting a lot from him. So he wanted to make sure things were coming together.

Later on, he received a text from Porky Pig that read, “Your feathery guest came to talk to me. It seems like he has good intentions, but I never know when it comes to him.”

Bugs rolled his eyes and replied back, “I’ll take care of it. Thanks for letting me know.”

After all of that, Bugs had found himself spending quite some time sitting on the couch staring at his cellphone. Every twenty minutes or so he’d remember the number was sitting undialed on his keypad. And every time he thought about calling it, he’d circle the room. After a long while, he finally took in a deep breath and dialed the number.

“Allison… I think I’m ready.” Bugs said when he heard the line being answered.

There was a pause, “... For…?” She questioned.

“Operation, Dad.”

“Oh!! Oh I’ll get the paperwork to you straight away Mr. Bunny! I’ll also get another interview appointment for you set up soon, y’know, adoption agency stuff. I’m sure they’ll be properly in your custody in no time! Well... as soon as everything is signed and approved, anyway. I’m so happy for you all!” Allison chimed.

“About the paperwork, I’d like to make a special request…” Bugs said.

Over the course of the next hour or so, Bugs and Allison spoke about what was next in the process in terms of adopting the Warners. Technically, in human years, they were full-fledged adults and would have been well out of the system. The three were created in 1991, after all. But there were a couple of rules in place for Toons which simply states that because of their child-like nature, they were still recognized as children. So Bugs still had to go through the same process as though he were adopting children. Even if that wasn’t the case, Bugs would most certainly find the means to adopt them.

Once Bugs hung up, he felt better about things. This meant they all still had time to talk things over. Bugs still wasn’t entirely sure about each of their feelings on the subject matter, but he was even more determined to find out now more than ever. Bugs couldn’t help but think back to when Wakko had called him ‘Dad’ earlier. So much pride and happiness swelled in Bugs’ chest, he began to softly cry. He loved them so much, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself if they didn’t want this.

To keep himself from thinking about things too hard, he wiped away his tears and decided to start making dinner. Cooking was a source of comfort to Bugs. It helped him keep his hands and mind busy. By now, Bugs had learned to cook meals for six or more, to accommodate for Wakko’s monstrous appetite. In truth, Toons had a larger stomach than the average human, a fact that was commonly exploited. For some reason or another, Wakko’s stomach and appetite was two times that size.

Bugs’ ears perked at the sound of the front door opening. He peaked around the corner with a smile, only to have it melt into a frown when he saw Daffy walk through the door. He had returned to his cooking by the time Daffy made his way into the kitchen. The two sat in a long silence, Daffy watching Bugs’ every move.

Finally, Bugs broke the silence, “You eat?” He asked.

“Yes, I had dinner with a friend.” Daffy said.

“You feel like sayin’ anythin’ to me?” Bugs asked.

Again, there was a long and agonizing silence between them. Bugs couldn’t help but smile slightly. He knew it was incredibly hard for Daffy to apologize. To admit wrongdoing would be admitting failure, and failure was less-than perfect, which was the opposite of what Daffy strived for.

“I was jus’—“ He started. Daffy immediately stopped that line when he saw Bugs’ ear twitch. “I want to help.” He tried.

“Well then, you can start by apologizin’ for pryin’.” Bugs said.

Daffy groaned out like he was in physical pain, “Auugghhh! Alright! I’m sorry.” He admitted. “I just feel like I missed so much.” He said, just before he noticed Bugs’ tail wiggle slightly. Daffy wondered since when did he find that kind of adorable? He tried not to let his eyes linger there for long; instead, focusing up on Bugs’ gloved hands while he prepared his food.

“Well if you really feel dat way, you can always just talk to me.” Bugs said simply.

“You’ve always been so closed off! And stand-offish! And you wouldn’t tell me that one thing.” Daffy huffed, crossing his arms.

“Daff, I opened my home to you. I answered most of your questions and I’ve been very patient. As far as things concernin’ Lola, all I’m asking is dat you leave it alone. You don’t wanna go down this rabbit hole.” Bugs warned.

Hearing him say that only made Daffy more insanely curious. Still, he filed away these feelings for later. “Fine.” Daffy said with a small pout.

Bugs looked over at Daffy with a kind smile, appreciating the fact that he was respecting this boundary. Something that, if had been brought up in the past, would have been trampled all over. “Y’know, I have a coupla questions myself.” Bugs admitted.

“Oh?” Daffy asked.

“Yeah. Like, why’d you wanna come back to teach at a school? It can’t be for da money.” Bugs said.

“You know what I’m about, Bugsy.” Daffy told him, leaning on the kitchen island, “I want fame, recognition and fortune. Owning a legacy comes with that. I want to be remembered in history books. Being apart of the first Toon school? That’s history right there.”

“Well, I can’t argue with dat.” Bugs said with a shrug.

Soon, Daffy took the barstool and they continued to talk. And just like that, it seemed like they were right where they had left off all those years ago. Daffy wasn’t sure if it was the content of their conversations, or if that was just the effect Bugs had on others. He was always such a smooth-talker and it always felt like he had control of the conversation. Daffy interjected when he could (it was in both their nature to be the center of attention, after all) and most importantly they shared stories.

From what Daffy understood, the Warners brought a lot of joy and excitement in his life. Even if it had only been a little over a year. Ultimately, Daffy was proud of Bugs. “So when are you gonna adopt ‘em?” Daffy asked.

Hearing that, Bugs nearly dropped a dish he was pulling out of the oven. Luckily he had been close enough to the kitchen island that the dish simply landed on it a little harder than if he’d normally place it down.  “Eeh.. well, I uh. I talked to the adoption agency today, actually. There just needs to be a few more interviews and some paperwork.” He said.

“Of course. Wouldn’t wanna rush into somethin’ like this.” Daffy said.

“I… still don’t know if I’m ready, Daff.” Bugs admitted, looking down at his casserole. “I don’t know if dat’s really what they want.”

“Are you kiddin’ me?” Daffy exclaimed, “All you’re missing are family portraits to put in your wallet. You’re perfect dad material. If they can’t see that, it’s their loss.”

“Who’s loss?” A nasally voice asked.

Bugs and Daffy turned simultaneously and saw the Warners peeking around the corner by height. Wakko sniffed the air and gave a small sigh. “It smells so good.” He commented.

Internally, Bugs was screaming. He wasn’t sure just how much the Warners had heard of their conversation until Dot spoke. “So when are we getting those family portraits?” She asked with a grin.

“I guess we could all use some new headshots.” Yakko joked with her.

Bugs took in a deep breath, “They’re sendin’ Allison over for anoda coupla home interviews.” He announced.

“Oh won’t that be nice? I was starting to miss her.” Dot chimed. “Can you believe it took them ten interviewers before they found her?” She asked Daffy.

“She’s put up with a lot of our shenanigans.” Wakko said.

“Eehh… What are we gonna tell ‘er about the duck?” Yakko asked, pointing his thumb in Daffy’s direction. Daffy looked a little annoyed, but didn’t say a word.

“Oh! What if we tell ‘er he’s our second cousin twice removed?” Wakko proposed.

“We ain’t lyin’.” Bugs said quickly, “He’s here temporarily, and that’s what we tell ‘em.” He said.

Daffy shrugged and got up to start walking out of the room. “Well it’s obvious you’ve got some things to talk about. I’ll see myself out.”

With that, the four began to set the table with what Bugs had cooked for them. Once the table was set and food was served, Bugs spoke up. “About the adoption… I don’t need answers from you guys yet. The process is long to begin with. Just… think about things for me, alright?” He asked.

“You got it, Bugs.” Yakko said with a smile and a small wink.

After hearing that, Bugs felt like he was on top of the world. Things were falling into place more smoothly than he could have ever imagined.

----

Huzzah!! This chapter is more relationship establishing stuff. Overall, I’m satisfied with it. Hope y’all enjoyed it! 

[ma-sulevin]

Why, yes, I will be feral on main until further notice, thanks for asking. Chapter two is here, and I think there will be two more. Send help.

Pairing: James Vega/Avery Ryder Rating: E Warnings: No warnings, just smut. Check out the tags on AO3. Word Count: 4850, chapter two of three four.

Read it on AO3 instead, or catch up on their story from the beginning.

---

When James wakes up, Avery is in the kitchen, munching on the food he brought, eating right out the package like a feral child. She’s wearing a very tiny pair of shorts and his discarded shirt, hair twisted up in a knot on top of her head, and she grins at him around a mouthful of crackers.

She swallows hard. “I wore you out, huh.”

He boxes her in with his body, leaning in to put his hands on the counter. She leans back, looking pleased that her words have goaded him to do what she wanted, and he leans in like he’s going to give her a kiss but presses his lips to her forehead instead.

She giggles and ducks her head to rest against his bare chest. He wraps his arms around her and rubs his hand over her back. 

This feels good.

This feels right.

She must feel the same, because she keeps leaning against him instead of pulling away to eat more. She just rests her hands on his waist, then lifts one to trace over the line of his tattoo that dips down near her eye. 

“What’s the plan?”

He checks the time on his omnitool to see how long they’ve already spent in the house — almost all day, after her nap and his — and then gives her the two obvious options: “We can eat, or we can go to the beach.”

She hums as she considers, fingers still dancing over his skin. “Is eating on the beach out of the question?”

“Anything for you.” He kisses the top of her head and tries to hide his laugh as she makes a little scoffing noise and pinches at his side. He grabs her fingers and brings them up to his mouth to kiss them too, and he’s rewarded with a scowl and a bright blush across her cheeks.

Yeah.

Anything for her.

“Put your suit back on.” He pushes her ever so gently toward the bedroom and then hesitates as she seems unwilling to go. “You okay?”

She pulls her lower lip into her mouth and stares at him, cheeks still kind of pink, and then finally nods. She steps a little closer, chin raised for a kiss, and he gives her one that lingers, that turns into a second and then a third, and then he’s lifting her onto the counter so he can stand between her thighs to keep their necks from hurting.

When he finally breaks away for a breath, he’s half-hard with no way to hide it, but she doesn’t open her eyes as he rests his forehead against hers. She just sits there, a half-smile on her face, looking pleased as she rests her hands on his biceps.

He can practically see her pulling herself together, shutting down whatever it was that had made her stop and ask for a kiss. When she opens her eyes and sits up straight, it’s the same Avery who walked out of the bathroom to tease him, the same Avery who looked him up and down in the club and asked for his name while already intending to take him to her apartment. 

He doesn’t like seeing her pull part of herself away from him, but he doesn’t know how to bring it up yet, doesn’t know how to make her have a serious talk with him when she’s smirking up at him and pulling him closer with her legs around his hips until he’s pressed snug into the junction of her legs.

“Quit distracting me,” she says as though she’s not being completely fucking distracting herself. She wraps his dog tags around one finger, then pushes him back with her hand in the center of his chest.

He lets her move him where she wants him, lets her slide off the counter and trail her fingers down his stomach only to pull her hand away before it reaches where he’s suddenly desperate for it, lets her skip away toward the bedroom without stopping her, then stands absolutely still in the kitchen as she disappears to get changed.

“Dios.” He’s so far gone he doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he just rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes and tries to shake it off.

He gives himself to the count of five to feel confused, then he starts grabbing food and premade drinks to take outside with them so they can finally enjoy the private beach he paid way too much for.

He’s just pulled his swim trunks on when Avery emerges from the bathroom again, this time in a white bikini instead of a black one — but still, he’s very happy to see, extremely tiny. She’s braided her too-long hair and put on a sun hat even though it’s dangerously close to sundown, and she’s giving his shorts a very appreciative look before he has a chance to say anything.

“Are those the smallest shorts you could find, Major?”

He looks down at them, then back up at her, and flexes a little. “There a problem?”

She giggles and looks at him so fondly his breath catches. “Hmm, no. I think they could be smaller, really.”

“Quit complaining.” He kisses her so she won’t think he’s upset, grimaces at the taste of sunscreen on her lips, and then grabs her hand to pull her outside behind him.

It takes a minute to get from the house to the ocean, but the walk and the bill are more than worth it to hear her soft gasp at the sight of the white sand and blue water turning orange from the setting sun.

“Holy shit.” Avery stops walking as soon as she can see the full span of the horizon in front of them, only broken up by one of the nearby mountains off to the south. “Holy shit, Vega.”

He can’t help but puff up and preen a bit at her compliment, proud of himself, and then she’s staring at him with the same expression she had in the kitchen, that thoughtful look that he doesn’t quite understand.

He pulls her in for a kiss, and she goes willingly, stepping into his space and reaching up on her toes so he can reach better, and then she slips from his grip and heads right to the water.

He leaves their things in a pile on the sand and follows her, drawn into her orbit with the same inexorable pull of a planet on a dying satellite. He’s going to crash into her, he just has to hope the damage isn’t too bad.

She stops when the water is up to her knees, but James keeps on going. He grabs her, scooping her up into his arms so he can carry her deeper into the water, and she shrieks as the waves start to rock them.

“Don’t you fucking drop me!” She grabs him right back, arms around his neck and fingernails digging into shoulders like she’d be able to do anything to keep herself up in his arms if he really wanted to throw her into the ocean.

He doesn’t want to throw her, not right now at least, because all he wants to do is hold her like he is and just… enjoy being together.

He sinks down into the water a bit, letting it hold them both, and she sputters and clings to him until she’s able to turn to face him completely, her arms still around his neck but her legs floating free as he holds her around her waist instead.

“See?” He can’t keep the teasing out of his voice as the waves buoy them up and down. “This is nice.”

She wrinkles her nose at him, but the expression breaks after just half a second and she’s grinning up at him, squinting a little in the light.

“Yeah, you did good.” A wave comes and pushes them up, and then as they fall back down she pulls herself closer and presses her lips to his. She tastes like salt when he opens his mouth to her, and she sighs as he traces his tongue across her lower lip.

She breaks the kiss first and pulls herself even closer, resting her chin on his shoulder and letting the ocean support her weight.

It feels good to hold her like this, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to float in the ocean all tangled together.

He doesn’t want to let her go.

—-

Avery leans back on the beach towel and props herself up with one hand as she eats with the other, pretending she can’t see James staring at her with something like wonder on his face as they dry off in the warm air together. 

As much as she’s been looking forward to this trip, she’s been nervous that things might be weird between them, or that he wasn’t actually excited about the baby like he said he was, or that he’d be put off by the way her body has changed since the last time he saw her in person, but…

None of that is true. It feels like they’ve picked up right where they left off, and he’s been just as thoughtful as he always was, and he’s only excited about feeling her belly and hoping the baby will move for him even though she’s told him a hundred times it’s too early for that.

She doesn’t know when it happened, when she fell so damn hard for this man who was supposed to be a one night stand, just a bit of fun to reward herself for staying alive after another long week, and now… here she is, on a beach with him, pregnant, happy, and… in love.

She looks up at him as the thought crosses her mind, trying to be kind of subtle about it so he won’t notice, but he’s already staring at her, has been the whole time, a content little smile on his face like he doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Berry for your thoughts?” She offers him the strawberry she’d been planning on eating herself, a shopping list concession to her most recent craving, and James leans forward to eat it right from her hand.

He takes it from her fingers gently, just his lips and tongue removing the fruit and then its juices without breaking eye contact with her. It raises goosebumps on her arm that travel up and make her shiver and draw in a deep breath, a promise of more that makes him smirk a little as he watches.

He leans back, smug, stretching just right to make her admire his muscles that are somehow more delicious than she remembers them from London.

Has he been working out more? Surely not.

“We should go dancing tomorrow,” he says, answering the question she already forgot she asked. “Dinner, then dancing, then…” He trails off, but she knows what he’s thinking, oh does she know what he’s thinking.

“I think I can fit you in,” she says, looking at him from under her lashes when his smirk grows wider at her innuendo. She eats another strawberry with a little more care than is really needed, moaning a bit when she takes the first bite, then cleaning the juice off her fingers until all she can taste is her own skin.

James makes a little grumbling noise, but she doesn’t look at him, pretending not to hear until he leans over and grabs her with both hands to haul her into his lap.

She lets him, settling easily with her thighs bracketing his hips like she belongs there, but she doesn’t kiss him, just leaves him waiting for it with his lips parted and the tip of his tongue trapped between his front teeth as she leans over and snags another strawberry for herself.

As soon as she bites into it, he’s leaning up into her space, nuzzling her hand out of the way so he can bite the other half of the fruit. She laughs and nearly drops the strawberry, but they bite through it and each comes away with half. Avery leans back to chew but James follows her, nosing along her jawline as his fingers dance up her sides.

She squirms as it tickles, then moves one of her hands to the side of his neck to tilt his jaw up to get a real kiss. He gives it to her, gladly, enthusiastically, tongue that still tastes sweet dipping into her mouth as his arms wrap around her waist to keep her locked in place.

She lets him hold her there as they kiss, taking their time, just holding each other as the stars come out above them and the air starts to cool. She nips at his lower lip, tugs on it, listens to him groaning under her as he scratches at her back with blunt nails.

She loses herself in it, drowns in it, throws herself into it because she doesn’t know what else to do as he consumes her and once again pulls at the tie holding her bikini top on.

She finally breaks free and takes a deep breath, head back and hair tickling her lower back as she stares up at the sky, and he leans in to kiss over her throat, down across her collarbone in a bid to just get as close to her as possible.

She loves it.

She loves him.

“James…” She starts to say it about, to just let it go easy as breathing, but then her breath catches with the words in her throat as his teeth scrape across her skin, and she just can’t say them, not yet — she hopes he feels it, she thinks he does, but she just can’t. She can’t. “You taste like the ocean.”

He kisses her once more before sitting up, eyes dark and reflecting the light of the stars back at her. “You taste like sunscreen.”

She cups his jaw, smiling, because he hadn’t cared before she said anything. “Want to see if we both fit in that shower?”

His grin grows. “Fuck yeah.”

She climbs from his lap without his help because he’s still too busy tugging at her bikini strings, and wraps one of the towels around her shoulders to ward both off the chill that comes from separating from him and his grabby hands.

They get the remaining food packed up and carry it to the house, hand in hand so James can tug Avery into moving a little faster. She lets him pull her along, anticipation building in her the closer they get to the house. The satisfaction from earlier is gone, replaced with a deep hunger like she hasn’t already come three times since arriving in Brazil, and she leaves him in the kitchen so she can hurry to the bathroom to get the water hot.

She waits for him, leaning into the shower stall that’s more than big enough for them to share, even with James as big as he is and her not as small as she used to be, one hand under the water and her bathing suit still on so he’ll be able to peel her out of it like he obviously wanted to on the beach.

She hears him groan behind her when he makes it in from putting the food away, and then his hands are on her just like she thought he would, pushing her bottoms down until they pool around her feet before he gives her top the same attention, plucking at the bows until it falls to the bathroom floor too.

He pulls her back against him, her bare ass snug against his hips, and runs his hands over her body, from her hips around to her belly, then up to cup her breasts. It sends a thrill through her and she shivers, biting her lower lip when he pinches her nipples.

God, she’s missed this, how confident he is, how he always seems to know exactly what to do to get her as wet as possible. It’s thrilling, letting him play with her like this while she feels him getting hard against her, and she arches her back to grind against him with more purpose.

He feels fucking amazing.

“Come on.” She gives up on grinding against him after just a moment, putting her hands on his to make him release her. He does, of course he does, letting her slip from his grasp and step under the stream of hot water.

She turns and looks at him, brushing her hair back over her shoulders, watches with a hungry smile as he pushes his swim trunks down and releases his cock, hard and ready for her. He cups it, stroking it almost mindlessly as he follows her into the shower, crowding her against the wall to kiss her.

He tilts her face up to his with his hand on the side of her neck, and this time when their lips meet she can’t taste anything but strawberries and clean water, and she dips her tongue into his mouth to chase it.

He finally breaks away from her and reaches for the body wash she brought with her, pouring some into a washcloth and stepping back only enough to give himself space to run the lather over her skin.

She lets him wash her, watching the steam curling around him, lips parted and breath coming hard through her parted lips as he slowly cleans her.

He takes his time, teasing her almost with the washcloth, skin slowly turning red in the hot water, green light flowing under his skin in a way that used to make her so angry but now just feels familiar and right. 

When he kneels down on the hard tile to wash her legs, and then her feet, she can’t take it anymore, can’t handle the pressure between her thighs or the sight of his hard cock going untouched between his. She can’t handle the warm way he’s looking at her or the feather-light kisses he keeps brushing over her skin.

It’s too much, it’s too much and she needs him, and she grabs his hand to pull him back to his feet with the insistent pressure of someone who knows what she wants, what she needs.

“Please, baby,” she says, tugging hard, “I need you.”

He leaves the washcloth on the floor as he stands up, towering over her even as his lips are drawn to hers. It’s deep and it’s beautiful, and she drags her teeth over his lower lip because she just can’t help herself.

She needs him.

He turns her around, and she rests her hands against the glass of the shower wall as his cock slips between her thighs, sliding against her ass eased by the slippery body wash.

She presses her thighs together and arches her lower back, and he groans low in her ear as he bends over her. 

She braces herself and he holds her tight, one hand on her hip and the other twining with hers on the shower wall as he starts to move his hips in a slow glide between her legs.

“Feel good, birdie?” He mouths at the line of her shoulder, nips at the underside of her jaw, sucks at her throat for just a second too long like he was going to leave a mark and then thought better of it.

“You always feel good.” If she angles her hips just right, the tip of his cock brushes against her clit with each of his thrusts, a bright spot of pleasure amid the slow grind of him against her backside. It’s not enough to get her off, but it’s enough to make her want so much more, a tease that’s building her up achingly slowly as though that’s his goal -- more than just enjoying himself.

And, oh, he’s enjoying himself, his fingers tight on her skin and his teeth against her spine, against her throat, tugging at her earlobe as he shudders and groans behind her. It’s a heady feeling, this large man behind her, pressing hot moans into her skin, burying them in her wet hair as the shower keeps them warm.

Her breath is coming in short, harsh pants now as the teasing becomes too much for her, making her desperate to actually feel him inside her even though she knows with every fiber of her being that he’s doing this to her on purpose. She shifts her weight, tightening her fingers around his to brace herself to reach down between her legs.

His next thrust meets her hand there, her fingers unerringly finding and then wrapping around the head of his cock as his hips press flush against her ass. It surprises an extra loud moan out of him, a breathy “Dios” directly into her ear, and she can’t help but smile as his grip turns bruising on her hip and he stays as close as he can for her to tease him right back.

“Feel good?” She throws his words back at him, pleased and breathless, and she can’t stop her pleased giggle as he holds her hip steady to pull back and thrust harder against her. “Yeah, that’s it. Come on.”

And he does, following her words and her permission, and he buries his face in her hair and presses her hand flat against the shower wall as he comes, cock twitching against her fingers and between her thighs, painting the glass with ropes of white. 

She strokes him through it the best she can with the way he’s pressed against her, shivering in his arms as the force of her desire presses insistently between her legs, a demand that won’t wait to be taken care of.

When James’ body relaxes and his hold on her loosens, she lifts her free hand to her mouth to clean off her fingers, licking the taste of his spend from her skin as he catches his breath.

It doesn’t take him long to come back to himself, and she knows the exact moment when he opens his eyes again to see what she’s doing, because she’s rewarded by another full-body shiver and his hand moving from her hip up to rest against the front of her throat.

“Are you trying to kill me? Is that your plan?”

She pulls her finger from her mouth with a little pop and then melts into his embrace, spreading her legs a little to encourage him to move his other hand between them.

“Mmm, if you’ve survived this long, I don’t think a little more teasing is gonna kill you, Jimmy.”  She presses her ass against him to prove it, just because she knows he’s fucked out and overstimulated, and he tightens his grip on her throat even as he grunts. “You gonna leave me hanging? I gotta do this myself?”

“You’re so fucking greedy.” He almost sounds put out, but she knows he’s not. She knows he’s not because he fucking loves it when she’s like this, he’s told her as much, and because he finally lets go of her hand so he can put those fingers to better use.

She gasps when his middle finger finally breaches her folds, just teasing through what wetness hasn’t been washed away by the shower, the lightest possible pressure he can manage to put on her clit, but she still manages to force out, “You fucking love it.”

His laugh is low in her ear, his fingers a teasing pressure at her throat and her cunt, and she reaches back to hold the back of his neck for support.

“You got me there,” he says, and then he finally gets to work, dipping his hand lower to slide his middle two fingers deep inside her while the heel of his hand presses against her clit.

He’s not teasing now.

She cries out, knees buckling, holding onto him for dear life as he fingers her like he was always made to do it,  stroking her inner walls with just the right amount of pressure, just the right way to catapult her to the edge where his earlier teasing hadn’t been able to.

“Fuck, fuck, oh please…” She’s not above begging, and she does, thighs trembling where she clamps them around his hand. It’s too good, it’s too much, and she teeters on the edge of orgasm for longer than she thought she would.

“Go ahead and come,” he says, voice sounding rough. “I know you want to.”

She does, and so she obeys, coming around his fingers with his other hand still holding her throat, lips bitten raw and voice wrecked. 

“That’s it,” he says, holding her tighter, not slowing down the motion of his fingers as he forces more pleasure from her. “That’s my girl.”

She barely hears his words, still shivering his hands, thighs still shaking. She’s overwhelmed and finally has to push his hand away to get some rest.

It’s his turn to clean off his fingers in his mouth, and she doesn’t have the wherewithal to do anything other than just turn in his arms and sag against him when she sees what he’s doing.

He laughs around them, then puts both hands on her jaw to tilt her face up for a kiss. This one is soft and slow, something sweet in it, and she drowns herself in the sensation until it makes her chest feel tight and she has to break away or start to cry.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” she says, pretending to be stern when he raises his eyebrows at her. “I have to wash my hair.”

“You invited me in here,” he says, eyes narrowing a little, and she lets him know she’s joking by pressing up on her tiptoes to give him another kiss.

He doesn’t keep his hands to himself in any case, helping her wash and condition her hair even though he’s mostly getting in the way. It feels nice to have his big hands massaging her scalp, so she lets him, knows she’ll miss this when she has to go back home in a few days.

Maybe she can talk him into doing this every day she has to wash her hair.

She doesn’t think he’ll object.

It’s late by the time they’re drying off with the house’s big, fluffy towels, and they get ready for bed standing side by side at twin sinks. He finishes first, and he signals his readiness to leave the bathroom by yanking her towel from her body and leaving her standing nude in front of the mirror, eyes wide with her toothbrush dangling from her lips.

She glares at him in the mirror, and he winks right back before going back to the bedroom. She admires his ass as he goes, then hurries to join him.

He has the lights off and the windows open when she slides under the sheets next to him, curling up on her side so he can pull her back against his front.

“Tired?”

She can barely hear his question where his lips are pressed against the back of her neck, but she can feel them moving near enough to her amp port that she shivers.

“I’m always tired these days.”

He makes a rumbling noise of consideration, thoughtful, and he tugs her a little closer before resting his hand on the curve of her stomach. She does the same, resting her fingers on top of his, both of them waiting in silence for something to happen.

She’s almost asleep, lured by the warmth and the long day and how hard she came in the shower, when she feels the baby wake up, what might be a tiny fist pressing against her in greeting.

She twitches, pulling herself back to consciousness, to move James’ hand as close as she can get it. After a moment, the movement happens again, the baby ready to party now that her parents are ready to pass out.

“She’s awake?” James sounds more alert than she is, but not by much, his fingers twitching before he presses his hand against her a little harder.

“Mhm. She’s just punching away in there.”

James hums and kisses the back of her shoulder. “Can’t feel her yet.”

She pats his hand and lets sleep start claiming her again, floating down into the comforting warmth that comes from being in James’ arms again.

She wishes they could be like this all the time.

She wishes she didn’t have to go back to London without him.

She wants to be with him all the time, just him and her and their little family.

His voice soothes her into unconsciousness, a comforting rumble behind her as he speaks, quietly, just to their daughter. “No puedo esperar para conocerte, mija,” he says, the most Spanish she’s ever heard him say at once. “Te quiero.”

Her last thought before sleep is that she loves him too.

[jinnielovebot]

soft bias tag! ♡

tagged by @bangs-chan @bangchans @seungminty THANK U I LOVE U 

ok for real this tag was actually rlly fun to do :’)))

tagging: @jeongin @himeaegyo @hanjisunng @reosian @3rxcha @doublekn0t @felixeslee @jiisung henlo pls ignore if u have alrdy done this love u btw

DISCLAIMER: i get rlly mushy in this because every hour is softjin hour ;(

who is your bias?

kim seungmin hwang hyunjin!

what made you notice them?

ajsdjahdg his voice!! tbh his voice was actually the reason i got into sk in the first place ahahjsd LMAO can u believe i havent swerved for the last 8 months DAMN im loyal anyways im rlly particular when it comes to rapper n their voices n hyunjins rap part in hellevator just,,,fit in so seamlessly,,,and it just sounded so smooth n perfect nd you bet your sweet arse i did a Phat double take when his part came on in the song

what’s your favorite thing about them?

u want me to pick just one?????????

OKAY LIKE i think my absolute favorite thing abt him that made me LOVE him is like how hardworking he is like duirng the show when jyp criticized him a lot :((((( he still worked super hard even if he was a lil bit discouraged but in the end he!! did!! That!!!!! nd like i love that quality of him and i honestly look up to it like being able to work super hard n want to improve even after lots of criticism is so hard for me but watching him b so motivated n determined just makes me ;;____;; and wow he just alwys wants to learn!! and improve!! wow i m in love with him

OTHER THINGS I LOVE ABOUT HIM include how cute n cuddly he is like,,,,always clinging onto everyone else like how do u not love that and i also love the way he smiles and laughs like my god u thought the sun was bright?? well then u havent seen his smile ://// i love the way his eyes just kinda scrunch up when he laughs and its the Cutest thing EVER and every time he smiles or does his little scrunch thing i rlly. RLLY. just wanna kiss him but u didnt hear that from me ;u;

who would initiate skinship more?

probably him bc im shy af asjdkas and i can imagine just walking beside him when he randomly just takes my hand or swings his lanky af arm around me

who would hog blankets more?

ME bc im needy and i get cold easily :’D

who would be more clingy?

he wld be more physically clingy but i think i wld be more mentally clingy bc i get sad when im apart from people 

who would say ‘i love you’ first?

i think he’d say it first just bc he doesnt seem like he gives any craps LMAO n would just go for it asjkdah i’d be way too shy to say anything first

who would be more easily flustered?

me bc i could just look at him and then get flustered let alone talk to him n be near him 

what cuddling position would you two have?

he’d be the big spoon because have u seen how tall he is and then i’d be the little spoon because have u seen how small i am LMAOO but sometimes i would wanna face him so i can like throw my leg over him like a pillow if u know what i mean

which colors remind you of them and why?

peach and warm pink!! bc he’s a peach :(((( but i think its bc when i think of him i  literally think of the sun and jus t how bright he is

which season would you like to spend with them?

winter!! bc imagine cuddling under blankets and watching movies and eating snacks in the dark w him while we wait for it to be midnight on christmas eve :( and also its sweater weather so him!! wearing hoodies!! all the time!!

i would luv spending summer with him too tho bc imagine all the late night dates we could go on since it doesnt get cold (in cali at least) at night nd spending all day doing dum stuff like the dum lovers we are :(((

who would bake the cookies and who would steal the batter?

LMAO GOOD ONE you can bet u will see us at the store buying premade cookies bc we dont got the time nor the skills to be baking

which one of you would make bad puns and how would the other react?

honestly both of us would make bad puns it would just depend on the day and the other would react like “i suddenly am single” every time

who would want to adopt 50 dogs and cats?

both of us bc we lov kkami and want more friends for kkami :’((

which one of you would nearly burn down the kitchen trying to microwave a pop tart and who would come to the rescue?

this is a trick question bc both of us would burn down the kitchen trying to microwave a pop tart

who likes to lean over tall railings and who pulls them back?

fun fact i’m deathly afraid of heights so he would probably be the one leaning over the railings and then i’m pulling him back telling him how one day he’s gonna fall over n how he should give me all his stuff when he writes his will

what would watching a horror film with them be like?

id be under the blanket and covering my eyes for dear LIFE while hes laughing and tryna pry my hands away from my eyes AND HE’D PROBABLY TRY TO PRANK/SCARE ME LATER AFTER THE MOVIE ASKDJHAHSDKJ

who would be the cheesy flirt and who would be the smooth flirt?

im the cheesy flirt bc i barely know how to flirt at all meanwhile

him: is doing nothing at all

me: god can u stop flirting with me already

who is more competitive?

IM SO COMPETITIVE AHSKJD im the type of person that says “wait best out of 3″ LMFAO so i can imagine us making a bet over smthn and then the loser has to pay for food and ill get petty and ask for a best out of 3 match LOL

who would have to be given constant reminders? (remember to eat, don’t forget your keys, etc)

also me bc i get distracted super easily and i forget to eat and sleep literally every day

who sends memes and who sends cute ‘i miss you’ texts at 3AM?

he sends the i miss you texts n then i respond in reaction memes

him: i miss you

me: 

[ravenssunshine]

California Bliss- Elmax

Read on AO3

This is the first chapter of my Elmax fic! I’m excited!

Warnings: swearing

Words: 1,752 (longest writing yet, I think!)

Jane Hopper didn't exactly know much about the world, but she memorized Hawkins, Indiana like the back of her hand. She knew everything there was to know about that place. She was smart and she was careful. She followed the rules, knowing there was no reason to break them. Max Mayfield broke that safe bubble she lived in. Max Mayfield was a force of nature, and she was simultaneously terrified and so intrigued. When Max invited the whole party on a trip back to California, Jane barely knew what to say. She couldn’t leave Hawkins, they all knew that. But Max had the ability to make her a rebel, make her do things she didn’t understand. So she said yes. At 9:00 am the next them they all they all piled into two cars, Dustin, Lucas, and Steve into Steve’s car (Max’s dad had wanted to meet this ‘Steve’ Max kept talking about,) and Mike, Will, Jane, and Max into Max’s car. Mike and Will were asleep by hour one, leaving Max and Jane to talk.

“I’m glad you decide to come, Jane," Max said after a few minutes of silence. her hair was tied up into a long ponytail and Jane was admiring how the sun made it look like it was on fire.

"y-yeah. I wouldn't miss it for the world," Jane replied, really meaning what she said. like she said, Max made her feel and do things she never would’ve thought about doing. “What’s California like? I’ve only seen it on a map.I’ve only been out of Hawkins once, actually.”

“Well, California is pretty cool. The people there are a lot different. More accepting, not stuck in the past. There’s not really any winter there; it’s always hot. Um... we can go swimming. Or go to the beach.”

“That’d be nice. Everyone? Or you and me?”

“I was thinking more you and me, honestly. I want to get to know you better.”

Jane nodded. “I would enjoy that.” With that they sat in silence, driving for hours and listening to the radio. Jane would occasionally point out something out the window, and Max would look and laugh. They had mindless conversations, filled with unintentional flirting.

Mike and Will woke up about 3 hours in when they stopped for lunch. The lunch break was quick, the seven of them getting out of their cars and eating premade lunches from Joyce, Ms. Henderson, Mrs. Wheeler, and Mrs. Sinclair.

When they were done they got back in the cars and were back on the road. Since everyone in Max’s car was awake, they played typical road trip games, like bingo and I Spy. They exchanged stories and they were laughing the whole time. When it was dark out, they all met up again at a motel.

“Okay, shitheads, listen up,” Steve ordered. “I’ve booked four rooms and here are your sleeping arrangements: Max and Jane, obviously, Will and Mike, who will have to share a queen sized bed, Lucas and Dustin, and moi, who gets a king sized bed to himself. We leave at 9:00 tomorrow after breakfast. Go get your room keys. We should all be on the same floor.”

They all ran to the desk, grabbing keys at random. Looking at the room numbers, they split up and went upstairs. Once Max opened the door to the room, she swore. “Jane, I think we have Mike and Will’s key. There’s only one bed....”

“I can go switch the keys?” Jane suggested.

“Y-yes. Go do that. Please.”

Jane left the room and found Mike and Will after only a few minutes. Thankfully, Steve had successfully booked all the rooms on one floor. “We have your key because Max is an idiot. Care to exchange them?” She asked.

“Yeah. I’d rather share a bed with Will than be stuck in two different beds.” Mike said, winking at Will who turned bright red.

“Disgusting! Just get Max over here and go to your correct room,” Jane said, oddly flustered. She sat one of the beds and waited anxiously for Max and their bags.

Max walked in and threw Jane’s bag on her bed. “‘Night, Jane,” she said quietly, before getting into bed. Jane grabbed her bag and changed into her pajamas, getting into bed. “Goodnight, Max.”

Jane could not sleep. She knew what this feeling was but she didn’t understand. It was love, and she only knew it because that’s what Mike had described his feelings for Will as. They were the same as this. Only, Jane didn’t understand how she felt this for another girl. She knew it was okay for boys to like other boys, but no one said that girls could like other girls. She was scared, to say the least. She couldn’t fall asleep on her own, she needed to be close to someone. “Max?” She asked softly.

“Yeah?” Came the reply from the other side of the room. Max couldn’t sleep either.

“Can I uh... get into bed with you? I can’t sleep.”

“Sure.”

So Jane walked over to Max’s bed and crawled in beside her. They fell asleep quite quickly after that, limbs entangled. Needless to say, they were both restless sleepers.

At 8:00 am, Dustin came to wake the girls up. He noticed them both asleep in the same bed but didn’t assume more. “Um... Jane, Max, it’s time for breakfast. We go back on the road at 9:00.” He said in a loud voice, hoping to wake them up.

Max sat up quickly, doing her best to pry a sleeping Jane off of her. “We’ll be downstairs in 10...” she mumbled quietly before falling back asleep for five more minutes.

After those five minutes, both girls gradually woke up. They untangled themselves best as possible, still ending up with Max having to drag Jane off the bed. (It would’ve been carry, but Jane has a good 3 inches on Max.)

“We have like, five minutes to be packed and downstairs for breakfast. Now, I know that sounds shitty but they have waffles so it’s all good,” Max said, internally bracing herself for Jane’s dramatic groan.

Jane lived up to Max’s expectation and groaned, but got ready nonetheless. Max locked herself in the bathroom, throwing on a T-shirt and some shorts, not bothering to do anything with her hair.

Jane had on a nice white blouse and jean shorts, and of course, her black bandana from Kali that she always wore was around her wrist. Her silky loose brown curls were cascading down to to the middle part of her back, her bangs pushed back elegantly with a headband. How Jane looked effortlessly beautiful all the time, Max had no idea. Jane telekinetically tossed Max her suitcase, quickly wiping the drop of blood from her nose with the bandana before it fell on her white blouse. They walked downstairs together, spotting the party sitting at a table. Unsurprisingly, Mike, Will, Dustin, and Lucas were all wearing pajama pants and t-shirts, and Steve hadn’t put much more effort into his appearance either, with his hair not brushed and only in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Jane and Max shared a giggle, knowing the five of them probably wouldn’t ever get dressed if no one forced them too.

Max grabbed a bagel to eat while Jane took a waffle out of her bag. There was a toaster there that she put the waffle in. Yes- she brought her eggos with her on every trip.

After they finished they split up to their cars and started driving to California. Max, who was, started talking. “So what we could do is drive straight ‘til 5:00 am tomorrow. We can take turns and then by that time we should be at my house. Something around there. I know Jane doesn’t have her drivers license but we probably won’t get arrested if she drives for an hour or two on one of the more empty streets. I think this is what the other guys are doing.”

There was a chorus of “Okay” from everyone. So that was the plan. Drive for a really long time and hope for the best.

The first few hours in the car were completely silent. Jane looked back once to see if Mike and Will were awake and they were not. their seatbelts unbuckled, they were cuddling, completely asleep. Jane laughed, looking back at Max, who's face was bright red.

"Max, you okay?" Jane asked, concerned.

Max turned her head swiftly to look at Jane. “Yes. Why do you ask?” She asked stiffly.

“You’re bright red.”

“Oh am I? Must be the sun. Sunburn.” Max said awkwardly, forcing a chuckle. She turned back to the steering wheel, speeding up a bit.

Jane furrowed her eyebrows but didn’t ask anymore questions.

The rest of their long car ride passed without any issues. They chatted, getting to know each other even more, slept, and drove. When they finally reached Max’s house in California around 5:30 am, Max jumped out of the car, pulling Jane with her. Max knocked on the door excitedly, coming face-to-face with a tall, red headed man who must’ve been Max’s father.

“Daddy!” Max yelled, hugging him tightly. Her father laughed; his laugh sounded a lot like Max’s.

“Hi, Maxie,” he said cheerfully.

He then turned to Jane, saying, “I’m Roger, Max’s father. I’m assuming you’re Jane?”

“Yes, I am.” Jane said. Her voice was laced with drowsiness and Mr.Mayfield immediately noticed.

“Steve, Dustin, and Lucas are already here. They’re in the first guest bedroom. Why don’t you two take Max’s old room and the other two boys can take the second guest room?” Mr.Mayfield offered.

The girls nodded and went to go get Mike and Will and their luggage.

Max’s room was decorated for a 12 year old, still, despite the fact that they were 17. There was a bunk bed, which Max immediately climbed up on.

“I’ll take the top bunk and you’ll take the bottom bunk,” Max asked, although it was more of a statement. Jane nodded, and after changing into pajamas, climbed into bed, immediately falling asleep.

It took Max a little longer to fall asleep, still charged with excitement from seeing her dad again. She mentally planned out everything she would do with the party and made separate lists for what she would do with her dad and Jane. After a few minutes of doing this, Max fell asleep with a smile on her face. Damn, was she looking foreword to this week.

Taglist:

@bellatrix08

@stanley-uriiis

@djpandakitty

@in-your-dreams-loser

Send an ask to be on the tag list!

[legendofgrump]

awkwardarin replied to your post “awkwardarin replied to your post “4, 7, 10 you bet your ass I’m...”

*chanting* DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT

You ask, I deliver. Here we gooooo~ (Also I’m going to shame you all I want SO)

As per request, I’ll answer all the asks (that I haven’t already) from the fanfic questions post, but it’s under a read more so I don’t literally kill everyone’s dashes. I’m so sorry in advance

1. What was the first fandom you got involved in? I mean, before I even knew what “fandom” meant, I was writing Twilight fanfiction, so I guess that counts. The first one I actively participated in was the Grump one haha

2. What is your latest fandom? Ouran High School Host Club, but again, if you want active participation, then I guess uhhh Night in the Woods?

3. What is the best fandom you’ve ever been involved in? Definitely the Grump fandom!! I’ve met all the best people and 99% of my friends through this blog right here!

4. Answered

5. Which fandoms have your written fanfiction for? Uhh Twilight, Big Time Rush, Total Drama, Game Grumps, technically AntiPoppy but it’s not even close to done and not published

6. Answered

7. Answered

8. Answered

9. What are the best things about your current fandom? I mean, for this fandom, like I said, it’s got all my friends in it. Everyone’s super supportive and there’s tons of opportunities to get involved and create stuff and support other creators! It’s probably one of the nicest communities I’ve been a part of.

10. Answered

11. Who is your current OTP? Currently I’m still heavily thinking about Hikaru and Haruhi from Ouran Host Club so that I guess haha

12. Who is your current OT3? The all time babes are Rubbercommanderbang. Also Raven, Cyborg, and Beast Boy is a ship that @cantolopejeevas made me think about and I love

13. Any NoTPs? Refer to this massive post

14. Go on, who are your BroTPs? Hikaru and Kaoru from Ouran, The entirety of the Teen Titans, the monks in Xiaolin Showdown, etc

15. Is there an obscure ship which you love? A n t i P o p p y

16. Are their any popular ships in your fandom which you dislike? I’m more or less indifferent toward Egobang if we’re gonna be real here. I just don’t feel like there’s anything I can add to it at this point.

17. Who was your first OTP and are they still your favourite? I mean, before I knew what that meant, probably RaiKim from Xiaolin Showdown. And they’re still great, but now I’m a little gayer.

18. What ship have you written the most about? Ironically? Probably Egobang. I wasn’t so cynical about it when I first started haha

19. Is there a ship which you wished you could get behind, but you just don’t feel them? Refer to number 16

20. Any ships which you surprised yourself by liking? Hmm probably like Septibang? Or CommanderSeptiBang?? Those were two ships I just kinda stumbled upon and was like? Okay I guess we’re doing this now??

Also Mae and Selmers from Night in the Woods. Surprisingly wholesome.

21. What was the first fanfic you ever wrote? I think I mentioned this before, but it was self-insert Twilight fanfic. Honestly I wish I was just as shameless as I was in middle school. Writing Mary Sue self-insert fic where you ship yourself with a main character is fun and satisfying as hell.

22. Is there anything you regret writing? Aforementioned Twilight fanfiction. Though part of me doesn’t because it was my origin story and also, like I said, shameless and for fun.

23. Name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of & explain why you like it. Ahh probably either “You Monster,” which is like my best stuff that I’ve put up so far??? or the massive Big Time Rush fanfic I talk so much about just for the sheer size of it :P

24. What fic do you desperately need to rewrite or edit? You Monster!!!! I’m gonna write a redux soon I promise.

25. What’s your most popular fanfic? ???? According to Archive, it’s You Monster! How nice~

26. Answered

27. Answered

28. If someone were to draw a piece of fanart for your story, which story would it be and what would the picture be of? Literally anything??? I love all fanart of anything I make??? But I guess You Monster haha

29. Do you have a beta reader? Why/Why not? Hahaha no I don’t write enough to warrant having one. And also I literally almost never edit anything I write rip

30. Answered

31. Answered

32. Do you listen to music when you write or does music inspire you? If so, which band or genre of music does it for you? Depends!! Sometimes music really confuses my brain and makes me unable to think of words, especially if it’s really word-heavy music (which is most of what I listen to). If I’m really struggling, it usually helps to do it in silence so I can focus. But otherwise, I used to make little playlists of instrumental music to listen to, or play premade playlists of like study music or something.

33. Do you write oneshots, multi-chapter fics or huuuuuge epics? I really like writing huuuuge epics/multi-chapters but I’m really bad at finishing things ;--; so most of what gets published are requested one-shots/ficlets (one of which was requested the other day and I’M STILL T R Y I N G I SWEAR)

34. What’s the word count on your longest fic? Oh buddy. It’s over 100K.

35. Do you write drabbles? If so, what do you normally write them about? Uh I guess? But I’m not particularly stuck to the “required word count” for the different vocab. I usually only write really short things when people request stuff haha. But it’s kinda fun~

36. What’s your favourite genre to write? Probably just straight angst. Angst that develops character, specifically, but angst nonetheless.

37. First person or third person - what do you write in and why? Third person. I used to write in first person and for some reason it always seems less?? effective/neat to me? Plus I write very colloquially and I find it easier to do when I can write in third person.

38. Do you use established canon characters or do you create OCs? Usually canon characters, but if it’s something like Total Drama that depends on constantly changing casts of characters, I’ve definitely made some of my own characters.

39. What is you greatest strength as a writer? Uhhh???? Uhhhh????? Does not compute????

40. What do you struggle the most with in your writing? Effectively capturing characters, at least that fit my own standards. And then also the anxiety that comes along with thinking its good enough to waste people’s time with. :’)

41. List and link to 5 fanfics you are currently reading: I’m not...currently reading any...but I will link to five of my favs.

1. Before and After (Shaddic) --Total Drama (also tw for a lot of HEAVY mental illness/abuse/violence) 2. Wu Xing Shield (DragonNutt) -- Xiaolin Showdown (tw: death) 3. If Lost, Return to Phil (thatsmistertoyou) - Dan and Phil (I don’t remember, I just remember it being really fucking sad) 4. Two Roads Meet (pianodan) - Dan and Phil (tw: suicide) 5. The Vibe and The Vibe 2: 2Fuck2Vibrator (by our very own @cantolopejeevas) (tw: gratuitous smut ;) )

42. List and link to 5 fanfiction authors who are amazing: 1. @cantolopejeevas​ / @grumpygamersandvibrantcolors for obvious reasons. they’re just!!! so good!!! at all the types of writing. (hey go commission them) The Ultimate Senpai 2. @i-am-avacado oh boy they angst well! current holder of the angst crown (for nooooow~) honestly writing senpai 3. @devilgate-drive provides the Good Quality Rubbercommanderbang Content and also just generally talented 4. @sweetiefiend writes the cute shit!!! like damn!!!! 5. @autumn-feels so??? talented for her age??? and so deep wtf

43. Is there anyone in your fandom who really inspires you? I mean, all of my friends for one. And my lovely darling @cantolopejeevas who continues to push me forward and compliments my work all the time. But yeah, all my friends make me wanna get better because they’re all so good and I wanna do that tooooo!!

44.  What ship do you feel needs more attention? AntiPoppy. Please.

45. What is your all time favourite fanfic? Fuckin’!!!! Wu Xing Shield, listed above!!! It’s the first fanfic I cried reading!!! And it’s so beautifully written!!! If you like Xiaolin Showdown, I recommend it. Plus, it also took stuff from Xiaolin Chronicles and made it bearable. Bless.

46. If someone was to read one of your fanfics, which fic would you recommend to them and why? Ahhh You Monster. It’s probably my best one. Even though it needs heavy editing haha.

47. Archive Of Our Own, Fanfiction.net or Tumblr - where do you prefer to post and why? I mean....Fanfiction.net is where it all began, but I never posted anything on it. I think AO3 is the best for posting fics and keeping track of them. But more people usually see it if I post it on my tumblr. So a mixture of those two?

48. Do you leave reviews when you read fanfiction? Why/Why not? For the longest time I didn’t because I had major anxiety!!! I was too nervous to leave a comment, no matter what. Plus, I didn’t really make accounts on either ffn or ao3 so I couldn’t have if I wanted to. But now I like leaving tags and stuff on people’s works on tumblr and (if I read more fic) I would leave comments, just because I want people to know they’re doing good work!!

49. Do you care if people comment/reblog your writing? Why/why not? Yeah, I mean, of course! I love seeing comments on all my work, art, writing, or otherwise! It’s just nice to know that someone liked something I made, especially if it’s something I’m self-conscious about like I am with writing. And reblogs help spread it around so it can get more attention, so that’s always helpful!

50. Answered

51. Answered

I HOPE EVERYONE IS HAPPY ESPECIALLY YOU @awkwardarin

[snartblaster3000]

Tagged by @xxrandoxx

Name: Matthew Favorite Drink: All types of coffees Favorite Snack: Hillshire Lunches (They’re like, quality, chic premade lunches that are hella good and super filling even though it’s a small amount of food) Favorite meal: Basically every Italian dish. Favorite memory: My family and I traveled to Colonial Williamsburg for Christmas and it was so pretty. A Colonial town that was quiet and dark at night as snow fell and all the actors and actresses were singing old Christmas carols and the following morning, we went on a train ride along the countryside and it was snowing heavily and the diner car was warm and filled with people also singing Christmas carols and you’d look out the window only to see the fields blanketed with snow. Favorite Television show: RuPaul’s Drag Race Favorite Tumblr Blog: Farah is my gal 💁🏻 Random fact about me: I physically cannot raise my left eyebrow alone. It’s either both or the right one. One random fact about my day: It was shockingly productive. One random fact about job/school: I’m going to a tech school for photography next year °v° Random fact about fav television show: @bakaforsenpai & @darkspiritdemons and I usually watch it together every Friday One thing you would sell your soul for: to git sum good dick If you could wear one outfit for the rest of your life, what would it be: Black and red flannel, super skinny ripped black jeans, chucks (obviously), my black stud earrings, leather bracelets, and a black slouch beanie Last song to get stuck in your head: The Argument (We’re doing it for choir and I can’t stop thinking about it) Choice of weapon for zombie apocalypse: Probably a pistol to keep enemies away and at a distance. I’m too weak to get into hand to hand combat or rely on physical strength. Did you have a baby blanket? Still have it?: Yes and my mom has it somewhere in a box. Fav Halloween costume you’ve worn: Probs my 20s gangster outfit. I went with a friend to an elementary school Halloween dance and she was a flapper. Our outfits matched and even though it’s cliché, it worked. Beach or water park: Beach Name a song you dislike: I can’t. If I don’t like it I immediately stop listening to it and never get the name. Spirit animal: idk. If we’re being honest it’s probably a damn sewer rat. Most played song on MP3/MP4: Probably “Peanut Butter” By RuPaul at this point

[I’m adding this one in because why the fuck not] Drag Queen name: White Çhocolaté

Tagging @bakaforsenpai @darkspiritdemons

[perpetualxfire]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.           Repost, don’t reblog.

– basics.

NAME: Seeker. (IRL name is Alex; I vastly prefer Seeker but if I respond to Alex that’s why) PRONOUNS: xe/xem (to respect my parent’s wishes, as they believe the use of ‘they/them’ is confusing and I’m willing to compromise as long as I’m not referred to as strictly female; she/her will be tolerated as I do present feminine but is not preferred.) SEXUALITY: Ace/Aro. TAKEN OR SINGLE: i don’t like the term ‘taken’ bUT. yeah @thestupidmeanone and I are kind of a set these days. pick us up off the shelves of your local wally world.

– three facts.

ONE: I’m trying really hard to study to become an engineer. I will often claim that I am one even thought I’m not quite there yet; I do still know a bit though. TWO: I have a tendency to take charge of situations, and I’m not good at conversation that doesn’t have a point. I have a tendency to interject where it’s not necessary, to completely shut it down, or alter the flow of it. For this reason, I’m not a huge fan of group chats (though I 500% see their benefit), and I’m a bit awkward to talk to unless I have a goal in mind, and when I do have a goal in mind I can get.... Pushy. Please be patient with me, I promise it’s just as awkward for me as it is for you. THREE: My best friend not from the internet (I’d say IRL but--) loves the fact that I identify as Agender and calls me a drag queen now and there’s a part of me that wonders if that’s appropriate but the rest of me is just incredibly amused and glad she at least took it in stride.

– experience.

HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?): If you count tabletop RP? Um... Fourteen years or so? If you just count online, then about nine or ten. PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED: a fold out table, pencil and paper, letters in the mail (slow, but satisfying), fanfiction.net (that’s a story and a half), several different forums, some chatbox but only related to the forums (not a platform I’m fond of), annnnd Tumblr.

BEST EXPERIENCES: Well there was one time - two times - in tabletop that my little sister and her friends started a campaign and they got one of her friend’s older brothers to DM and he came with premade characters, so he gave me a cleric that worshipped the sun and rather than specialize in healing, specialized in killing the undead. When I managed to kill 15 skeletons in one turn by utilizing the powers that he gave me he had to set this third level campaign up for fifth level characters. That was the same campaign where for SOME reason he decided it WASN’T OP to give the Cleric a portable house (it folded up into a magic cube and activated with a spell word) and was surprised when the cleric found a way to use said house both in combat and to imprison vampires that the party wanted to interrogate. It was a wild time.

Then there’s ANOTHER campaign (Pathfinder) where I was playing a Kitsune Rogue that had a few magical abilities (Kitsune) and the DM had to make up rules for me. Just. “Your party is surrounded by pikemen in a wall formation. You can’t reach them to attack. They’re trying to escort you to prison.” “... I cast Dancing Lights to take the form of a feminine human and place it behind them, charging this way, to see if I can distract them.” “.... They’re distracted.” “...... I’m gonna use my free action to nudge the halfling.” “... Halfling’s gonna steal their spear and break the formation.” “... I didn’t plan for this hold on.”

I love making DMs question their plans.

ONLINE though... There was a forum thread between Lina and York that I did with my sexy british man Maple back between S9 and S10 in... I guess an AU? where they were-- okay long story short they were in a warthog together and York had to fix the damned thing so lina went on a swim and then they went swimming together and it was?? so cute??

And! And. Lion King with Wash and York. That will always be on my top ten list.

Or Bohemian Rhapsody that was just recently--

– muse preferences.

FEMALE OR MALE: I mean. I tend to prefer feminine muses purely because I find feminine muses to be incredibly important but most of my muses (unless you count tabletop campaign characters) have been male, so...

FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: Angst? I guess? Angst is frustrating though because people always drop threads when it’s angst about your character and then get huffy if you drop the ones that are angst about their character, so... And I have to plot angst in advance anyway, I can rarely do spur of the moment angst, because it feels pointless and/or forced, but. For spur of the moment, definitely fluff. I cannot smut.

PLOTS OR MEMES: plots for angst, memes for fluff.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: I prefer longer threads. Short threads are too fast for me and don’t have the dedication; a long thread I can take my time on, get my characterization right without feeling pressured, and my partners are usually okay if I take like three months to respond cuz of school and work. Short threads are just... Too much pressure for me, tbqh.

BEST TIME TO WRITE: It REALLY depends on where I am mental health wise. Thanks bipolar.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): I’ve been told I am. Honestly, I don’t WANT to be. There are traits that I’d be proud to be associated with, but I vastly prefer to be my own person. It doesn’t help that one of my favorite muses is GLaDOS.

tagged by: @ofstarkilling

tagging: @thestupidmeanone, @dxntsayit