#half the servers never work and the ones that do are always the ones without subtitles

[dashiellqvverty]

the state of online streaming piracy these days is fucking abysmal........

[rafeandonlyrafe]

friction

words: 1.7k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, semi public sex, server!reader, p in v sex, unprotected sex, workplace romance

“alright.” you clap your hands together. “where is my trainee?”

“hey.” your eyes widen as you take rafe in, his arms crossed over his wide chest, biceps bulging against the sleeves of the uniform polo.

“wh-what?” you take a staggering step back. 

“won't be here long.” rafe says quickly. “just… got in trouble with my dad.” his voice turns softer, but not for your sake, simply for his pride as he looks around.

“and so you had to get a job here of all places?” you question.

“most fitting for punishment. he said if i last two months then he knows i can commit to something.”

“so you're going to be working here… for two months. great.” you try to add some cheer to your voice, but it certainly fails. it was hard enough when rafe would come in to dine at the country club, having to serve alongside him will certainly be hell.

not that he does anything to intentionally upset you, his very presence gets you frustrated. from the second he walked in and you saw him for the first time, your face got hot and flushed and you had to hide in the walk in freezer to cool yourself down.

“so, where do we start?” rafe asks.

you snap out of whatever thoughts you were having. “your section.” you state, the unofficial leader of the servers, having worked at the country club for by far the longest of all the staff, even outranking your current manager in seniority.

--

“rafe, you're at a month and a half, you're so close.” josh says, eyes glancing between the two of you from the other side of the managers desk. “and y/n, you know better than to argue in front of customers.”

josh stands, hands on his hips. “sasha and i are going to take over your sections while you two… work out whatever is going on. just talk it out then get back on the floor.”

he walks out without another word, leaving you in the office alone with rafe.

“you made me look so fucking stupid in front of my regulars.” you grumble. you asked for something very simple. for rafe to bring your table sparkling waters, and he took them tap instead.

“i didn't know.” rafe huffs back, not turning to fully look at you. “sorry, but you still got your fucking tip.”

“just pay attention next time. i know you don't give a shit about this job but some of us need this paycheck to fucking live.”

“alright, i said fucking sorry.”

“alright.”

you both sit in silence, the time stretching out between the two of you. 

“you're still mad.” rafe states.

“im just… frustrated.” you sigh, wishing you could pinpoint why your stomach always tightens when you're around rafe, why no matter how many shifts you work with him he puts you on edge, makes you act different.

“sounds like you could use some-” rafe cuts himself off.

you snap your head towards him. “some what?”

“i was gonna say some dick.” rafe turns his eyes back forward, even though there's nothing to look at but an empty wall.

“some dick couldn't satisfy me, you guys never make me cum.” you say it to upset rafe, hopefully dig into some insecurity he holds, but rafe just smirks.

“i could make you cum. and then we'd both be less frustrated.”

“both?” you question.

“yeah ‘cause you'd get your o and id finally get to fuck you.”

“i guess the only thing stopping us is locking the office door.” 

you both move rapidly, hands meeting at the same time your lips do as you turn the lock and hear the satisfying click of confirmation. rafe instantly presses you against the door, his mouth devouring yours as his body presses in close.

all rational thoughts go out the window. if you were in your right mind, if rafe didn't drive you so crazy, you would never do something so brazen.

rafe reaches down, one hand delving under your assigned polo shirt while the other grips your ass.

you moan against his lips as his hand covers your bra, fingers quickly pushing the material out of the way to get at your nipple, his palm rubbing against you so perfectly you have no doubt in your mind of how skilled rafe is.

“fuck.” you gasp when his hand gripping your bum moves, somehow managing to get your belt off as he pulls it away, undoing your slacks to reach into your underwear.

he finds your clit and taps at it, teasingly, but with just enough constant stimulation to keep you from crying out as you kiss him, pulling back only to look at his face, the way his eyes have dropped and darkened with pleasure, his mouth pink and wet from your kisses.

“don't stop.” his voice is grisly as he begs, and you lean in and continue to kiss, tongue pushing into rafes mouth and taking dominance, but it's all for naught as his finger on your clit so effortlessly controls your entire body, reading your reactions and what you like most as he rubs and touches.

“need you shirtless.” you tell rafe, tugging at his collar. “take it off.”

rafe doesn't want to pull away, it doesn't seem worth it, but instead of continuing to kiss him, you pull his collar more until he has no choice but to unmold himself from your body and take a step back to toss off his shirt, watching as you do the same, revealing one cup of your bra pushed down to reveal your pert nipple.

rafe moves quick to press his lips against your breast, hands working to undo your bra before he's back inside your pants, circling around your entrance and spreading your wetness up to your clit before continuing to rub, hearing your soft moans and whimpers as he switches to your other breast.

“need your cock.” you beg, but rafe isn't ready yet. he knows it will be the ultimate end to your mutual suffering that was just used to hide your bodies attraction, sexual frustration boiling over.

as much as rafe likes sucking your nipple into his mouth and feeling how warm and soft your skin is, he's desperate to move back to your mouth and swallow more of your moans, not so they don't get heard by your coworkers, but so they can become his and his alone.

“on the desk.” rafe pulls away, and a devious smile comes to your lips, knowing you're about to get what you want.

you push your pants and underwear down your hips in one go as you sit on the desk, glad josh keeps everything clear and clean as you spread your legs, rafes eyes dropping to your pussy.

you chuckle as his tongue darts out to lick his lips, but he doesn't have time for a taste as his hands begin to work on his own clothing until rafe is just as naked as you.

he pauses for a moment, standing a foot away from the desk, his cock standing up, calling out for your pussy. he gives you a look, and you know it's a question. a question you would have raged at fifteen minutes ago but you now know is what you've needed this whole time.

“yes.” you tell rafe. simple. one word. one syllable for rafe to surge forward, his arms around your body as he captures you in another kiss and pushes his cock forward against your entrance, burying himself in one smooth motion.

your head tips back, but rafe follows, hips snapping forward and instantly picking up pace, feeling how wet and warm you are, so good that he can't help his loose tongue.

“feels so good.” rafe grumbles. “can't believe we took so fucking long to do this.”

“maybe if you weren't such a-” you gasp at a particularly hard thrust, your sassy comeback stopping halfway through and quickly leaving your mind all together.

“mhm, that's what i thought.” rafe chuckles, but he's barely handling himself better than you, forcing himself to stay somewhat quiet when really he wants to shout your name for everyone to hear, to know he's claiming you.

“t-touch me again.” you tell rafe, and he knows what you mean, yet he's not ready yet, not ready for this to end, so instead one of his hands moves to your breast while he continues to thrust.

you let out a little growl, tempted to reach down yourself and rub your own clit if rafe is taking so damn long to do it, but both your hands are certainly needed to stabilize yourself against the desk.

“perfect pussy.” rafe says, stating it like it's a fact. it almost makes you laugh, but there's not a hit of humor in his voice, his eyes completely glazed over at this point.

he finally reaches down to your clit, beginning his motions from earlier this time with his thumb, remembering exactly what you like and what gets the biggest moan out of you.

you pussy clenches around rafe and he can tell you won't last long, his own speed increasing as his thumb runs so vigorously he's worried only for a second that he's being too rough before remembering who he's with.

“f-fuck!” you squeal. “rafe!”

your back arches as you cum, entire body shaking as your arms collapse underneath you, falling back against the desk as rafe continues to fuck you through your orgasm.

the feeling of your pussy constricting around him sends him over the edge, filling you up with a grunt and a mumble of your name.

“shit.” you gasp, sitting up as you regain some control of your body. “josh is going to be pissed.”

“hey, he told us to work out our frustrations.”

--

“happy six months.” you poke rafes side, making him flinch and then frown at you as he drops a fork in a clatter back onto the table.

“can't believe i could have gotten away with just two.” rafe sighs dramatically.

“hm, part of me thinks that you purposely got in trouble again so you had to stay working here.” 

“now why would i do that?” rafe smirks, very obviously checking you out, looking past your gleaming name tag declaring your newly promoted position as manager to the cleavage peeking from underneath your top.

“meet me in my office when you're done rolling silverware.” you take a look around the country club restaurant, it's certainly not busy and your other staff can handle it as the night is coming to a close anyways.

“am i getting written up?” rafe questions, smile still on his face.

“no… but if you're quick you will get ridden.”

[genshin-scenarios]

spiderverse —!

Summary: Spider-verse AUs with the genshin guys! Each features a reader in a different role. There will be references to ‘Into the Spiderverse’ and other renditions of spiderman (vaguely).

Characters: Kinich, Heizou, Tighnari-Cyno, Venti, Wriothesley, Lyney

Kinich

By day, Kinich is a recluse who spends the better half of his free time volunteering at the local animal reserve. It’s also where he got bitten by a radioactive spider, and you can probably guess what happened next.

Ajaw is a unique phenomenon — a ‘Venom-like’ symbiote who latches specifically to technology. After Kinich managed to seal him away in a random cell phone, Ajaw has made a deal with the hero to become an assistant of sorts. If you listen carefully, you almost always hear a second voice coming out of Spiderman’s mask — Ajaw, trying to get Kinich to choose violence, while Kinich kicks him off the server for being a distraction.

However, times when they do work together are one of the most terrifying things anyone can see. Kinich’s spidersuit is engulfed in Ajaw’s power, and every lunge and strike is more destructive than the last. Often, Ajaw tries to overpower Kinich and take over his vessel, but Kinich has more than a few safety precautions to prevent the symbiote from possessing him fully. 

You’re a spiderhero from another universe, much like the situation in ITSV (except it’s only the two of you)! Some sort of interdimensional portal has stranded you in Kinich’s world, and you were quick to track him down when he was on shift at the animal reserve one day, appearing out of nowhere and gaining his suspicion. The night ended swiftly, with you escaping and leaving a thousand questions in his head, while the building’s alarms blared deafeningly, trying and failing to locate the intruder that has since disappeared into the shadows.

It’s a shortlived game of cat and mouse, considering how you wanted to get Kinich’s help in figuring out how to get home. One thing leads to another, and your secretive interactions admittedly become a large part of Kinich’s daily life. When he realises that you’re destined to leave his world to protect your own one day, Kinich is left with a feeling that’s foreign to him: gaping loneliness, sitting next to an empty spot on the rooftop that used to be yours. 

It’s not just the fact that you understand him on a level that most others never would — but having something to look forward to when he was Spiderman was such a saving grace. Swooping past skyscrapers alongside you, going on impromptu missions (dates), and revelling at how normal you look without your mask on. He recognises the lilt in your voice, the scrunch of your brow, and knows deep down that there's no way to undo how your existence has been engraved into him. 

…And deep down, he already feels the stab of how hollow it will feel, when those who’ve seen you two hanging out together inevitably ask where you’ve gone. And all he can say is that you’ve moved back to your city with your family, knowing there was no way for any of them to find you. 

Heizou

Shikanoin Heizou is a talented detective in Inazuma’s capital city, while Spiderman is a local hero. One works with the law while the other is sometimes considered a vigilante, but as far as Heizou is concerned, there was nothing wrong with using different methods to solve a case. So long as the outcome was the ideal, or best possible, he didn’t have the luxury of beating himself up over other ‘what ifs’ and ‘what can I do better’s.

Besides, Shikanoin Heizou was a genius detective, and with that came a high amount of success rates in his civilian profile. Spiderman, on the other hand, represents the parts of justice that sometimes can never be controlled — a criminal who was about to surrender, only to have been attacked by a third-party cop. A villain who realised the error of his ways and ended his life to spare the city, and the families Heizou reminded him still lived within it. 

…A friend who was stealing for the wrong reasons, and reached a tragic end. There are many ugly conclusions to the cases Heizou tackles, but all he can do is push on. While being Spiderman places more responsibility in his hands, it was better than not being able to do anything.

And even at times where Heizou’s morale is at an all time low, he can at least rely on your presence to make his days brighter. You’re a reporter who likes to visit him for psychological support and gossip — and while he’d never say it aloud, everyone with eyes can tell that you’re his favourite media staff. He gives you more intel and hints to your own cases than he does with anyone else, and even assists you as Spiderman from time to time.

Heizou isn’t one to place his trust in others easily, but when you defended ‘the detective Heizou’ during a run-in with ‘Spiderman’, who’d criticised the police’s slow progress on a large case, it was a little hard not to feel endeared. Heizou still remembers the frown etched into your face as you told him that the detectives were doing all they could. And to cooperate with them himself if he was so confident.

It’s an odd situation for sure, to see you acting wary with his hero-persona yet so warm and caring towards his civilian self. Regardless, Heizou’s main worry now is keeping you safe within a climate of risky investigations and volatile third-parties. So long as you place your faith in him, he’ll do everything he can to defend you in turn.

Tighnari-Cyno

Yes, this is a Tighnari x Reader x Cyno situation! 

Tighnari and Cyno are the two spidermen of Sumeru — they work together on a reluctant basis, since they are unaware of each other’s real identities. Not to mention that Tighnari (Vulpes) is more outspoken and sharp-tongued in his hero persona, while Cyno (Lupus) is endlessly talkative and fond of bad science jokes even at really bad times. 

It’s a little similar to their regular selves, but dialed up within the drama of their hero work. While they get along well enough, Tighnari is endlessly exasperated about Lupus, while Cyno thinks that Vulpes needs to lighten up. (You could say that they aggravate one-another).

It does kill Cyno to not tell his best friends about his secret identity, but he is more than aware of the danger it’ll bring to them all. Besides, it’s not like he’s working alone against these villains, so it’s fine! In fact, this would be a very cool thing to reveal decades into the future, once the danger has passed onto other heroes who adopt the mantel 

This is where you come in as their best friend in school! You can generally be found as a trio, and while everyone’s been ‘busier’ since the year started, you still make time to catch up with one-another about things going on in your lives.

…But, seeing as both Cyno and Tighnari are keeping their spider-selves a secret, they’ve developed different systems to make convincing stories about how they spend their weekend. Tighnari rambles something about collecting new plants to add to his collection, and then has to rush to the florist after he agrees to let you see them after this (he had to jump in through his room window to put everything into place.)

Meanwhile, Cyno keeps droning about some Dungeon and Dragon’s campaign he’s developing for your larger friendgroup to try, when in reality he has nothing written down. It’s mostly just inspired from his daydreaming during patrols as Lupus, which Vulpes always snaps him out of with a whack to the head. 

The kicker, however, is when you become a bystander to a large villain attack one day, and upon the conclusion of it, Tighnari may have accepted a thank-you kiss from you (on the cheek) as Vulpes. It was a stupid decision, seeing as you didn’t even know it was him. But Tighnari was too busy trying to hide his own flushing ears when you were retelling this, to notice the way Cyno’s expression blanked out (he is planning a confrontation with Vulpes as you speak). 

Said confrontation will be one of the few times he sees Vulpes looking uncertain, or embarrassed, which immediately throws Cyno off his initial anger. It makes Cyno question if Vulpes knew who you were in real life, but Cyno forces himself to stamp that curiosity away in favour of their secret identities.

Venti

You and Venti were close friends in Mondstadt, before you had to move to Liyue for family reasons. In reality, you were getting dragged into a different sort of superhero business, within a universe where many other heroes exist (like the MCU with the Avengers and etc).

As such, this AU takes on a more casual route! You’re thankfully not too far away, so Venti can visit you via a train or bus ride. But it’s never the same as when he’d knock on your window after a rough day, not able to tell you it was because of a mission as Barbatos (Spiderman), but you always accepted him with open arms anyways. Him visiting you like that was nothing new, even before he’d become a superhero. And Venti never intended to cut off that connection with you.

But, you never told him about your hero-business either. Which is why when Venti tries to visit your apartment on a whim (just to see how you were doing, and then leaving back to Mondstadt immediately since he was in the area after chasing a villain) — he can’t resist the urge to enter through the window when he sees that no one is there. 

He just wanted to see how different things might be, compared to your old place. He’s getting hit by a web-block of all things at this time, and god, he can’t bring himself to call you up just to listen to his woes, but he misses you.

After what only felt like a few seconds, he hears footsteps at the door. Venti panics, praying to all radioactive spiders in the world that his web-block is not active now and sticks to the ceiling as your parents come in to look for you, only to leave after realising you aren’t there.

He lets out a sigh of relief, soundlessly steps back onto the floor. Only to hear the sound of something charging up to shoot behind his back.

‘Hands on your head. Turn around.’ 

The last thing you thought you’d see as the suited-infiltrator followed your instructions, was to see your best friend’s face. Eyes widened in just as much surprise as you were feeling, before he breaks into a sheepish smile.

‘Venti?’ ‘...Can I put my hands down now?’ ‘What are you doing here?’

And so, Venti ends up staying the night. He hides while you grab two portions of dinner and set it on the desk. Explanations float into the air. You tell him that your family only moved because of a project from Morax Companies. One employing your parents, while another recruited you for a certain task force. 

Lore exchanges were quick to follow. Venti tries to defend his honour when you snort, asking him to reiterate that he was bitten by a radioactive spider. ‘So you can, like—stick to the wall and stuff? Like what I saw in the news?’ 

To make a point, Venti shoots a web to wrap around your wrist, using it to tug you forward towards him. You lose your balance and end up closer than he intended, forcing the room to fall into embarrassed silence. 

This was certainly going to be a long night.

Wriothesley

As the owner of an underground boxing ring, it was safe to say that Wriothesley’s origins as Spiderman was an incredibly tragic, and dramatic one. Forced into a corner as thugs attempted to take over his underground settlement, Wriothesley almost thought he wasn’t going to make it out alive when a stinging pain bit into the back of his neck.

Minutes later, the floor was cleared of hostiles, and order was restored. No one knows who Spiderman is until this day, other than you — the detective who’s always worked with Wriothesley for tough cases and invited him to casual teatime chats.

In his defence, working with you was a matter of course. You helped cover his tracks as Spiderman and the owner of an illegal business. …And you also came from the same orphanage as him. If there’s anyone who understands the need for an anchor within this world of muddled morals and false promises, it was you.

What he doesn’t appreciate, however, is the way you always find yourself in the middle of trouble. It comes with the territory of being the city’s best detective, but sometimes Wriothesley swears you have more enemies than him. More than a few times, he finds himself carrying you in his arms after a rather precarious mission, and you have the cheek to thank him and place a kiss on his lips, blocked by his mask. 

His fighting style does leave him with more injuries than not. Despite how most spiderheroes tend to use agility over strength, Wriothesley never shook off the habit of using punches and brute strength, in order to physically reorient his opponents. It’s less city damage, but the result is more strain on his body, and a silver lining of you exasperatedly scolding him as you treat his wounds. 

‘At this rate, I’m going to have to replace you as Spiderman if you ever get so injured you can’t continue.’

As if he’d ever let that happen. The last thing that’ll ever happen is him leaving your side, after all the hell you’ve been through together. If there was ever a world where you were separated, he knows that every version of himself would cross the multiverse for you.

Lyney

As a reverse, you are the Spiderman while Lyney, Lynette and Freminet are part of the Fatui — not necessarily just a villain organisation, but an antagonistic force with a dangerous set of special agents nevertheless.

You first meet when you’re fighting Lyney and Lynette, in an attempt to put a stop to the Fatui’s nefarious plans. They’re known as the Phantom Twins but are otherwise unnamed — but it's clear from that one interaction that one of said twins were incredibly talkative and taunting, aggravatingly so, whilst the other was a silent blade.

Next, you meet as your civilian selves in school. Neither party suspects anything of the other, but the main attraction comes in the form of Lyney developing a hopeless crush on you. He admires you from afar, and all you know about him is that he’s a friendly, charming classmate. 

Then, by night: chasing the twins across the city’s rooftops, attempting to get back an artefact they stole from the museum. If you don’t get it back soon, that one reporter that hates Spiderman’s guts is going to imply that you were in on the heist too, for sure.

In that moment of distracted thought, Lyney sneaks up from behind you and holds a weapon to your neck. Silently threatening to use it if you move, and it takes all the self control in your body to not act out when you hear the smirk in his voice. 

‘A little distracted today, are we? While I can empathise with having something on one’s mind, it really shouldn’t interrupt our dance. Unless you were thinking of another partner?’

It’s clear from his tone that his words were meant to purely taunt you. His false sympathy dripped like honey, making you see red.

If you ever got a chance to unmask these two, you already know who you’re going to get revenge on first. (Let’s just hope that this dance of double-lives doesn't interrupt each other too much, at the end of this saga. Perhaps Lyney will find out your secret identity first, and begin to sympathise with you — between his loyalty to the Fatui and his love for you, he surely will be put into a tough spot. And if he doesn’t play his cards right, he might just have to sacrifice himself to the fire to preserve your light.)

[weixuldo]

Out Back

Linecook! Anakin x F!Reader

a/n: lol this literally took me so long I’m so sorry!! But I’ve been craving a lil modern ani WORKING MANNNN anyways hehe here it is.

NSFW mdni!

Anakin is in a mood and you intend to get to the bottom of it

Warnings: gn!reader, cursing, banter, hand job, unprotected sex, cum, outdoor sex, almost getting caught, anakin is a moody brat

________________________

“Yea- I got it!” Anakin annoyedly shouted through the window for the nth time as waitresses flew through the kitchen shouting changed to orders- changes Anakin had to fix. 

More char, too rare, more seasoning, no tomatoes in the salad, parm crust

Anakin was more irritable than normal today for some reason but no one could quite pinpoint why. He was usually a flirty “know it all” but today everyone was walking on eggshells around him. 

He brushed his sweat sheened forehead against the sleeve of his black t-shirt before continuing to flip the line of steaks in front of him. He wasn’t the only one in the kitchen, but today he was working with a bunch of newbies and he was struggling to correct their mistakes while keeping up with demand. 

“Shit! Watch where the fuck you’re going!” Anakin yelled when one of the new cooks crossed over from the salad station to the grills without letting the others know. 

“Say behind if you’re gonna be crawling around people- Fuck!” Anakin shouted angrily. 

The other cook bit his tongue and nodded like a puppy that had just been scolded for chewing on the furniture. 

The manager had been watching Anakin’s increasingly bad mood and was debating stepping in. 

You arrived for your shift 15 minutes early, just like always and headed to the POS station to clock in. Your manicured nails clicked against the greasy screen before logging you in. 

“Finally- Bout time you got here, rush has been killin’ us today” Hera said in passing as you tied your server's apron around your waist. 

“What do you mean “finally”?! I worked night shift and had to stay to help Ahsoka close til 1 am and I’m still 15 min early” you half laugh- half snapped back at the older server. 

You passed by the food window to see if a certain someone was working; lo and behold he was. Anakin always looked so focused when he was in the kitchen, you could say that after months of observing the slight furrow of his brow when mixing the salads or when his tongue peeked out of the side of his mouth when he was plating dishes to run. 

But what you noticed most of all was his alluring appearance; to you, it seemed he should be on the cover of a magazine rather in a small dingy kitchen in the back of some random restaurant in the city. 

His angular face and sharp features had every new waitress fawning over him- and of course he flirted right back; no one knew his relationship status but one could only guess he had none. 

When you first applied, he flirted with you during your interview before being swatted away by your manager. You left feeling as if you were special based on how he acted. 

But once you actually started working there you heard all the rumors. He had gotten with most, if not all of the other waitresses (even some of the married ones). The other woman warned you not to get too attached because he never stayed in one place long and was seemingly scared off by commitment or anything other than maybe a two time hook up. 

That wasn’t really your thing so you decided not to get involved at all- of course you still flirted with him, but you kept the extent of that in the kitchen. 

“Hey hotshot- how’s rush serving ya?” You joked through the window as you grabbed the newest salad to run to table 10. 

Anakin had been so focused that he barely registered anyone was even in front of him but once he picked up on your sweet voice his head snapped up. 

He was about to respond in his normal flirty manner but then he remembered what had him in such a bad mood in the first place… you. 

Servers get discounted meals if they come in on their days off and the last time he worked it just so happened that you were not. When he overheard the other girls talking about your appearance he was going to go out and chat it up- that was until he saw you sitting across from another man. 

From further observation he deducted that it wasn’t a cousin or brother, nor was it a long term friend… you were on a date. And Damn did you look good.

Anakin was no stranger to the fuck boy lifestyle and keeping a nonchalant attitude about others; but something about you sitting there with someone else struck a chord in him. 

He realized that the past few months of “flirting” with the new girl had turned into actual pining.

As much as he hated to admit it- he was attached. 

At first he chalked the unfamiliar feeling of desire to being annoyed that you weren’t falling for his normal tricks that worked on everyone else.

But then he actually spent more time with you; accompanying him for his smoke breaks out back, complimenting him on his precision and skill in the kitchen, when he drove you home when your car was in the shop… 

Somewhere in between all of that he found himself really wanting something more than just a hookup with you. And everyone in the kitchen could tell, except you. 

He never flirted with anyone else when you were around and kept his other comments to a minimum even when you weren’t there. He stopped answering any of the late night texts asking for him to come over from other waitresses (causing a few to quit). 

The other cooks in particular noticed how much he blushed when you entered the kitchen- and no, that much redness was not just caused by the heat of the grill. 

All of his suppressed feelings came to a head when he saw you smiling away in that booth yesterday with a guy that wasn’t him. 

“Fine.” He grumbled out to you as he tossed up the next plate to the window. 

You took his cold response as him just being tired and swiftly ran the food. 

Once you came back he had moved to the grill station with his broad back to you.  

A bit odd- Anakin never gave up an opportunity to talk to you. But whatever, he was just in a mood. 

The rest of the day went by with the normal rush but once the clock hit 4:00 pm, you clocked out to take your break. You passed the cooks area on the way to the back and didn’t see Anakin, he must be on his break too. 

Instead of sitting on your phone, scrolling through your friend’s posts- you set out to find the sandy haired cook. There really were only two places Anakin would be on break: the bathroom or out back to smoke a cig; the latter being more likely. 

The cool fresh night air was a relief compared to the stuffy hot kitchen that you had been running around all day. Without having to even look over you could already smell the tell tale smoke of Anakin’s Lucky Strikes. 

You approached the moody cook quietly and took a seat next to him on top of the transport crates. 

“Finally found you- have you been avoiding me, hot shot?” you joked, using a nickname you had been calling him since you knew that the flirting wasn’t anything to read into with him. 

He took a long drag before exhaling the smoke out of his nose and slowly turning towards you. 

“No but if I were trying to, it obviously didn’t work,” he said coldly. 

Maybe he actually was upset…

“What's going on with you today Anakin?” you asked, genuinely concerned. 

“Since when do you care?” he snapped, making you instinctively pull back. 

He noticed your aversion towards his words and immediately cursed himself; he took another drag and hung his head. 

“I-I just wanted to check on you… but I’ll leave you alone now” you said solemnly as you stood from your place beside him. 

Before you could get your hand on the door he called out your name, making you turn to see him looking straight at you. 

“What Anakin?” you sighed, no matter his attitude you just couldn’t get rid of the soft spot you had for him (maybe deep down you still liked him). 

He took a deep breath and put his cig out on the side of the crate he was sitting on. Was he really about to reveal the real reason he was being so dramatic? God, how embarrassing. 

“Friday… who was that guy you were with?” 

It took you a minute to even remember who he was referring to but once you did you groaned and hid your face in your hands.

“That’s my best friend’s older brother- he’s been trying to get with me since I was a sophomore in high school”.

Anakin felt his heart skip (now he was really embarrassed).… He didn’t fuck up his chances, but he needed to act quickly- that was too close. 

You cringed at the memory of the date until you realized why Anakin would have asked that in the first place and a playful smirk found its place onto your face: “But why do you ask?”.

“Cause I want you” he said, eyes filled with passion. 

Wow. You really weren’t expecting him to be so forward. 

“Well you want everyone” you brushed it off with a light laugh.

“No. Not like this.” He could feel his body heating up- he hadn’t genuinely confessed to anyone in ages nor had he wanted someone so bad. 

“What are you talking about Anakin?” you asked shyly as he guided you back to your place beside him. 

“Ever since you walked through that door on your interview day… I just can’t get you out of my mind and I just…” he trailed off before looking back down at his calloused hands. 

“Do you say that to every girl who doesn’t immediately fall for you?” you scoffed as you shook your head. 

It sounded so cliche and honestly you weren’t convinced. But maybe it was also because you were realizing how much you wanted him… you just couldn't afford to be hurt. 

“I’m being serious- and no… I don’t” he said seriously- he was deeply regretting the persona he had been assigned with. 

Anakin watched anxiously as you sat quietly, lost in thought. Eventually he had a juvenile idea (but it might just work), he pulled out his phone and went back to a text conversation he had with his best friend, Ben Kenobi, and showed you the screen. 

You’ll be fine Anakin, about time you actually get your feelings in check

What do u mean?

I just mean it has been awhile since you’ve actually shown genuine interest in someone

…

Exactly. 

Once you scanned those he took the phone back and scrolled further down. 

Fuck Ben, I feel like i’m losing my mind I cant stop thinking abt her. 

Anakin, just ask her out.

Dude, its not that simple… like she thinks I’m just a fuckboy, idk every time I try to get more serious she just brushes it off- It just sucks cause I’m the one that made this image of myself

You know I cannot lie to you, you did. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t fix it now. 

You really didn’t know what to say… he seemed really genuine. In a way you felt a small bit of joy that he had been in his head about you because he had been doing to same to you. 

“Anakin… I really don’t know what to say?” You mumbled softly. 

“Say you’ll give me a chance- say you feel the same-“

His vulnerability was endearing and something in you just felt he was truthful and quite frankly, you did feel the same. Anakin watched with bated breath as he scanned your face for any sign of answer. 

His lips parted as he was about to ask another question when you grabbed his face and pulled him into a deep kiss. 

His blue eyes widened once he realized what you had done, but soon closed them in contempt, desperately returning the passion. 

You were about to break away when he pulled you into his lap without breaking the kiss, his experience was definitely evident now. 

Soon he stood and motioned you to wrap your legs around his waist as he took you behind the shipping containers so that you weren’t directly in the line of the door. 

He held a strong hand behind your head as he pressed your back against the brick wall and began to move his kisses downwards. 

“Oh Ani” you moaned as he nibbled and sucked the most sensitive parts of your neck. 

He felt his dick twitch at the nickname, “Fuck, call me that again beautiful” he groaned into your neck as you raked your fingers through his sandy locks. 

“Ani-“ you gasped as he pressed his muscular thigh right against your throbbing core. 

“Ride it, babe” he huffed through his nose. 

And ride it you did. He knew just what angles to move his leg to make it the most pleasurable for you. 

You worked your clit against his tight muscles and felt your panties becoming soaked. Whimpers and pathetic mewls escaped your throat each time he tensed. 

Anakin could hardly contain himself as he watched the scene in front of him unfold. The way your smaller hands pawed at his biceps, the way your cute little thighs tensed around his much larger one, your absolutely beautiful expressions- after imagining what you would look like for so long, none of his fantasies compared. 

Soon his attention was pulled back to the present when he felt one of your eager hands tugging off his leather belt. Oh shit- this is really happening.

“My God Ani” you gasped once you pulled his jeans down enough to see his straining erection. 

He had on basic black briefs but what wasn’t basic was his size. Of course in the past you had imagined what he might look like outside of work (or outside of clothes) but none of that could have prepared you for the reality. 

“What?” he asked with a confident tone. 

You halted your movements on his thigh to really focus on what you were seeing. His rock hard member throbbed in anticipation of your soft touch; a small wet patch formed around his tip. The sight mesmerized you; you couldn’t count how many times you had imagined how he would look and finally… you were about to find out. 

“You can touch it, you know,” he said, tilting his head slightly. 

Of course you wanted to touch it- you wanted to touch him more than anything, but suddenly you were feeling shy. What if he had better in the past? What if you weren’t good enough for his liking and he took everything back?

Anakin must have noticed your wonder and hesitation because he guided your smaller hand towards his clothed cock with a smile, “it’s alright, you don’t have to be shy”. 

Once your warm palm wrapped around the thinly clothed member, Anakin sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes- his cock throbbed in your hand as you tested the waters by sliding your palm against the fabric. 

When you felt you were ready, your fingers creeped up towards the elastic waistband and nimbly gripped the edge. You watched intently as every drag of your finger revealed more and more of Anakin’s tanned skin until a few wiry hairs appeared and finally his fully erect cock popped out from its confines. Anakin gasped as his cock slapped the side of your hip. 

You wasted no time wrapping your hand around him and running a gentle thumb over his slit. Soon Anakin shoverd your bottoms off as well and began running his skilled fingers between your folds. He was mesmerized by you and couldn’t decide where to look; your hands pumping his long member, his hands between your shaky thighs, or your pretty face twisted in pure ecstasy. 

You couldn't take it any longer, you needed to feel him- feel every vein, every groove, every pulse-

“Anakin, need you in me” you whimpered into his ear as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. 

Anakin thought briefly about the possibility of security cameras catching the two of you, but he figured if they were working- they had already seen enough to know what was about to happen. 

“Fuck it” he muttered before flipping your around and lining himself up with your dripping heat. In one swift movement, he entered you and moaned at the feeling of your tight, gummy walls enveloping him. He thrusted in and out of your hole with wild ferocity as he chased his long awaited high. But once you began lifting your hips to angle him deeper, he lost it. 

“Fuck- Fuck!” he swore while he braced himself against the wall with one hand to regain his composure. 

His thighs trembled as he reluctantly pulled out of you and flipped you around to face him; never had ANakin looked so focused- not even in the kitchen. Suddenly he slammed you back down onto his cock with a guttural moan when the back door busted open and your very frantic manager called out, “Skywalker, you back here?! We need ya back on the line”. 

Anakin grit his teeth and buried his face into your neck to let out a few more grunts before clearing his throat and exclaiming, “Yea- sorry, lemme just put out my cig”.

You struggled to keep quiet as Anakin’s skilled fingers worked your clit as you bounced on his dick. When he deemed you too loud to stay discreet, he placed an uncalculated hand over your mouth in an attempt to silence you. 

“Alright- just hurry it up” your manager yelled before rushing back in. 

Anakin barely had time to turn his head back to you before you took one of his slender fingers into your mouth, sucking and sliding your tongue around it as you made intense eye contact. 

“Ohh fuck” Anakin groaned under his breath before his beautiful blue eyes rolled back. 

And with a particularly tight spasm of your core, he felt himself letting go- 

“-m gonna- I’m gonna cum… shit- I’m gonna cum” he babbled as he jetted in and out of you in his final stretch. 

“P-pullout? D’ya need- need me to pull out?” he whimpered in desperation- if you didn’t give an answer soon, he wouldn't be able to help but cum inside. 

You nodded your head, partially expecting him to be annoyed with you, but he just nodded and quickly halted his movements and effortlessly lifted you off of him. Anakin’s eyes darted between your lower stomach, pussy, eyes and ground as if to ask where he should finish. You signaled to your stomach because that would be the easiest to clean up. Once he got your answer he almost immediately came; ropes of his warm, thick seed landed on your soft skin causing you to tense at the sensation. Anakin pumped his dick a few more times before leaning into you with labored breaths. 

“Holy shit” he breathed, causing you to laugh a little. 

Once his high washed over him and he stood without being dizzy he kissed you- “I’m so sorry I made a mess, I’ll clean you up with my apron”. 

He searched your eyes for just a moment before saying, “I know we got cut short and I'm so sorry that I have to go back in, but you should meet me after work so we can have all of the time in the world”. 

You smiled at his words and kissed him again as he cleaned up his spend. 

“And next time I'll take you on a proper date… I’m sorry our first time was out back- I fully intend on making that up to you. So what'd ya say? Give me another chance?” he said with a genuine smile. 

“Of course Ani- of course I will” 

***

Hope that was enjoyable for I guys haha- ik I liked it ;) also sorry again for my long wait periods 😭

[strawberripine]

yet again emerging from the depths to post my last bits of fable art :,)

also throwing in a large sappy paragraph (slight cw for some discussions of family issues):

being a part of fable smp was such a privilege. when i first joined, it was just me and a couple of my irl blorbos deciding it would be a fun quirky idea to start an smp our own, and now it has become something truly impressive and heartfelt.

specifically from my perspective, playing c!momboo meant a lot to me. she’s similar to me in a lot of ways, obviously she is an extension of me, but i think she’s way more than that. c!momboo was based on another story that means a lot to me: Oneshot. if you’re familiar, her character is extremely influenced by not only the plant woman in act 2, but the world itself that communicates with you throughout the game. the idea of the world itself becoming so vulnerable and weak it becomes sentient really struck me, and I knew immediately that’s what I wanted c!momboo to be. what i didn’t expect was how much of a turn her character made early on, when jamie and swipn approached me half joking about her being their mom within lore. i think that’s what really ended up bringing her to life, and what overall became her main driving force: being a mother.

i’m gonna be kinda vulnerable for a second here: i never thought of exploring motherhood in any story i’ve been a part of, even before fable. the idea always scared me, since I don’t have the best relationship with my own mom, and i thought i would end up doing things wrong. but i think that’s kind of the point. there is no guidebook on how to be a good mom, you have to figure that out yourself, along with help from your kids. c!momboo wasn’t a perfect parent, far from it. she made some pretty intense mistakes, especially early on, and i’ll be the first to admit that playing her through those times was rough. there were moments where i felt i was leaning into the exact parent i would never want to be, and it was scary, but eventually c!momboo learned from those mistakes, making an effort to regain her kids’ trust over time.

c!momboo holds a special place in my heart because of all the things i stated, and while her story is over, i think she’ll always somehow end up in things i create. not by name, but her own courage and strength infused into what i do.

before i wrap this up, i want to mention the one story that really stands out to me from the process of working on fable: when the famous haleygar herself and i the night before the server released were scrambling to help sherbert figure out a title (not only that, but knowing this title would end up being the name of a certain major character later on lol) and eventually settling on Fable, not just because it sounded cool, but because that’s what this server was always meant to be: a story. a story filled with heart and soul poured not just from the cast, but from you guys. i think my favorite part of this project was always seeing what you all created, and how you guys ended up influencing us. our stories wouldn’t have been the same without you guys there, whether that be in chat, or even simply lurking. i’m grateful for all of you who were there, and i really hope you enjoyed the story <3

Until next time,

Momboo <3

[wizardprime]

the batfamily play minecraft

alfred: i don’t believe he can physically interact with computers

barbara: there’s always one person in the group who can do redstone and here it’s her. builds all the farms everyone loves having at the beginning of the game like the ender ender and a villager trading hall. as usual everyone would fucking die without her. servers she doesn’t join never really get off the ground for the most part because everyone is so used to having her farms on hand and gets lazy to play without them. would probably really enjoy elaborate progression mods like feed the beast

bruce: doesn’t get it. “what are you supposed to do?” “just whatever i want? that sounds silly.” if he gave it a chance i think it could be great for his mental health. i mean mining is basically meditation let’s be real. but let’s also be real he would try it for 5 minutes 30 if his kids really did the puppy eyes and then he would wander away and get killed by a zombie

cass: hard to say, honestly. depends on from what angle the game would be presented to her. she would probably enjoy the hanging out and the cozy atmosphere but she doesn’t strike me as the type to enjoy very grindy games beyond mindless resource gathering. she’d like hopping on the batfam server while everyone else is online and dicking around but alone i think she would just wander the landscapes aimlessly without progressing the game much.

damian: he’s collecting all the animals. 2.000 dogs and no sign of stopping. at least just as many cats. has wrangled half the passive mobs into his house, which is a wooden cube with a roof. it should be ugly but mostly it’s just really charming. i think he would enjoy the foxes

dick: also doesn’t get it. i think he’d prefer story based games or just straight up board games. he would enjoy the communal aspect and if someone introduced him to hypixel or something he would like that but i can’t see him enjoying casual minecraft unless it was a story based adventure map of some kind. he might like blightfall

duke: stacked. plays the game and plays it well. he has netherite armour while everyone else is just getting iron. he just strikes me as a minecraft kid. only other person who’s halfway decent at redstone, but only uses it to make cursed contraptions that give everyone else a headache.

jason: not the most impressive builds or the best with pvp but he likes to explore and creates really elaborate beautiful storylines into all his builds and the environments he cultivates that end up dragging half of the others into the plot. the kid who built fences around villages to protect the citizens from monsters. would enjoy mods that expand the minecraft world like better end.

stephanie: would play with incredibly silly mods that are all only working together with glue and hope. finding incredibly niche categories of speedrunning to complete just for fun; she actually gets briefly famous for setting a decent world record in something and would probably have many twitch followers if she didn’t already have med school and vigilante work to manage. maybe in another life

tim: doesn’t understand the term sandbox game and refuses to learn. he logs on and starts playing achievement hunter. not necessarily in a speedrunning way, but he does play the game like it has a tasklist. perpetual dirt hut tenant. either that or his unsupervised internet access as a child has lead to minecraft youtuber trauma

[george-weasleys-girl]

Could I request a wee cheeky Fred fic with the "Lay a finger on her" prompt please?

Something about that prompt with his impulsive behaviour ❤️‍🔥

Ngl it was legit SOO hard to pick just one from the list. They all fantastic ideas and I could literally see which prompt fits what character. Bravo 👏 👏

I'm so sorry it took forever to get to this one out. I've been so behind on requests. I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: mild violence, sexual harassment, a few curse words

~•~

The entire restaurant had fallen silent. Y/N stepped toward Fred, who had just slammed one of the patrons against the wall. The customer was taller than her boyfriend by a few inches, but Fred had more raw strength in his pinky finger than the other fellow had in his entire, scrawny body.

"Fred, baby..." Y/N cooed as she placed a gentle hand on his arm.

~•~

One hour earlier

Fred sipped on a Coke while he waited for Y/N's shift to end. His girlfriend was working part-time at a little muggle bistro during summer break. Normally, she would've been off work a half hour ago, but the place had gotten unusually busy for a Wednesday afternoon.

"I'm sorry, lovey," she said when she dropped off the Coke and a slice of pie at his table. "As soon as Sadie gets here, I'll be able to go."

"No worries, darling," he replied. "We can always catch a later movie if we miss the four o'clock one."

Y/N gave him one of her gorgeous smiles and blew him a quick kiss before she rushed off to greet another table.

Fred wasn't lying when he said he didn't mind waiting. He loved watching her work. The way she moved effortlessly around the maze of tables, customers, and the other servers, all the while balancing trays of food without using any of her magical abilities, always amazed him. So much so that he had been oblivious to anything but his beautiful girlfriend until one of the other servers yelped, startling everyone in the place. "Hey! Keep your hands to yourself!"

She'd been walking by a table of teen boys when one of them reached out and slapped her ass, iliciting snickers and lewd comments from his two friends. Fred watched the server glance up at Y/N, who simply nodded. A wicked smile spread across his face, knowing where this was going. He'd seen it once before when something similar had happened.

After Y/N had put in her table's order, she grabbed the full water pitcher and headed over to the unsuspecting offender's table. Just as she started to refill his glass, the other server hurried past and "accidentally" bumped into Y/N, causing her to spill the entire pitcher of ice water onto the guy's lap.

This usually led to lots of loud but generally harmless yelling by the drenched customer, while Y/N pretended to be profusely sorry. Except, it didn't happen that way today. The muggle teen jumped up, hand raised to slap her. "You stupid b--." He get didn't to finish the sentence. Something brushed past Y/N, and the next thing she knew, Fred had him pinned against the wall, his left arm pressing into the guy's throat.

"Lay a finger on her, and I will end your life, and I mean that very seriously." Fred growled.

Y/N's eyes widened in shock as she stepped toward her boyfriend. They widened even more when she realized the teen was not, in fact, taller than Fred, but that the older twin had literally lifted him up off the floor.

"Fred, baby..." Y/N cooed as she placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Let him down, please.

Fred didn't budge, his eyes unblinking as he watched the other guy's gaze flicker over to his friends, who stood frozen in place, trembling and pale‐faced.

"They're not coming to save you," Fred chuckled and then leaned in closer. "Now I'm going to let go of you and you're going to apologize to these two lovely ladies for being a disgusting leacherous asshole, and then you and your little friends are going to get the hell out of here and never come back. Do you understand?"

The terrified teen nodded his head as best he could, with Fred's arm still pressing into his throat.

Fred stared at him for a few long moments. And then, without so much as a warning, he stepped back and let go all at once, smirking as the guy crumpled to the floor. Y/N almost felt sorry for the poor lad as he stood wavering and stumbling over his words, trying to apologize before running out the door, his two lackeys following close behind.

Fred's eyes tracked them until they were out of sight, and then he turned back to Y/N, looking her over for any injuries. "You okay, love?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. He didn't hurt me."

Her boyfriend exhaled a long breath and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. "Good. I would've hated to have killed someone today." He leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her head. "It would've really put a damper on our date night."

~•~

If you are crossed out, it means I'm unable to tag you.

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @innerloverpainter @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @princess-paramour @anvaaryn @lastwandastan @samshifts

[mageofcolors]

sonic characters playing minecraft headcanons bc i cant sleep:

-tails is a huge redstoner. he builds giant farms for everyone on the server to use and also has a tendency to be responsible for most of the server's lag. in their umiverse tails is the one to invent wireless redstone

-tails also likes building house exteriors while amy builds the interiors. they work on a lot of projects together

-amy also runs a business making interiors because shes known to be the best at it on the server

-amy runs a shop selling mob loot because she loves killing things. she's also a master pvper and everyone fears her so you know no one would dare steal from her. she kills withers on the regular and makes bank off the nether stars

-she's also very skilled at using both the axe and the sword, but not as good at ranged weapons.

-sonic is an explorer and likes mods that allow for gear that makes him faster and increases his step height. mountain biomes are the bane of his existance in vanilla

-sonic used to live in tails' house but he would ruin his item sorter system all the time so he asked sonic to get his own storage. sonic now lives in a hole under tails' house

-sonic's a big potion user. he likes speed potions + water breathing / night vision potions for dealing with water stuff. he's soooo brave about it. he forced himself to take on a water temple because he couldnt stand the idea of there being an enemy he couldnt defeat. being underwater makes him sick tho

-knuckles is a miner and his house is a series of tunnels that blends into his mine. he also likes building things mainly with stone materials. he takes inspiration from irl angel island.

-rouge is a big flyer. shes possibly the best elytra user on the server

-rouge collects all the gems in the game and stacks them in shulker boxes in a vault nobody on the server has found yet. she does randomly flex by taking them out and showing them off. she'll go up to knuckles and just place a shulker box full of diamond blocks in front of him to taunt him, then quickly grab it and fly away.

-rouge doesn't mine so much as she'll trade or steal. she mainly steals from knuckles tho just to mess with him. knuckles always gets confused where his stuff has gone and still hasnt figured out rouge is the one taking it.

-rouge will also trade random missions for gems. these missions will often consist of helping with playing pranks on other members of the server.

-cream runs a flower and dye "shop" where she has super cheap prices, but half the time she will just give people flowers as gifts. everyone returns the favor with much more valuable items to make her happy but it technically doesn't count as selling/buying because cream never asks for anything in return. she does like receiving gifts tho

-big is always on the server, fishing. little do they know big is actually physically in the minecraft world. he doesnt know how he got there but he's vibin

-knuckles is very into minecraft lore. he likes exploring to learn more about the world and he likes finding old ruins. while sonic is also an explorer it's not too often they'll actually team up unless theyre specifically going to fight a difficult enemy. usually they prefer to go solo

-when time came to fight the ender dragon everyone showed up (except cream because she didn't think the dragon is evil and didnt want to kill it). shadow, sonic, and knuckles were all fighting for the final hit on the dragon. shadow got the hit but sonic stole the egg before anyone else could. he's hiding it in the hole under tails' house. rouge has her sights set on that thing and will figure out where it is any moment now. she just has to wait for tails to leave the house so she can search without being seen or heard

-shadow was the first on the server to get the achievement for collecting all the cats

-shadow is also a pretty good builder and he lives in a nice house with his cats. he has the most maxed out armor on the server

-tails has a solo world as well where he runs like 1000 mods that nobody else's computer could handle. i thought this was important to mention

-sonic likes to collect heads. both mob heads and player heads. he has 20 knuckles heads and 13 shadow ones but he could not get a tails one until tails donated one himself to the collection.

[turcott3]

motive

mason mctavish x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, allusions to smut, lowkey hate this, and fluff

positions fics masterlist

~tell me what’s your motive?~

-

“fuck.” mason yelled at the tv, losing yet another match on fortnite. you laid with your legs in his lap, his arms lightly resting on them.

“do you think maybe you should take a break?” you ask, giggling at his frustration.

“well, yeah i probably should.” he says tossing the controller on the couch next to him, running a hand lightly up your thigh.

“we have group dinner at 7. go get ready we have to leave in like 30 minutes.” you remind him and he sighs.

“do we have to go?” he asks, removing your legs from his lap and picking his legs up, laying his head on your chest.

“yes mason, we have to go. we said we’d be there.” you giggle, toying with the tight curls on his head.

“help me find an outfit.” he says standing up, lending you a hand. he sits on the bed as you dig through his closet tossing clothes to him to put on.

“okay i like this one.” he says looking in the mirror.

“yeah, looks good to me.” you say walking up next to him. he wraps a light arm around your waist and pulls you to his side.

“look at us.” he says and you giggle. you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t practically head over heels for this man. the worst part was that you couldn’t exactly tell his feelings for you. you knew he liked you but you couldn’t tell what his actual motive was, and god was it horrible for you.

“okay let’s go.” you say, removing his hand from your waist and kissing him on the cheek. you arrive at dinner perfectly on time meeting a few of his teammates in the parking lot and catching up with some girl friends. once you’ve all arrived you find your way inside, mason pulling your chair out for you.

“okay gentleman.” you say.

“gotta make a good impression.” he giggles, placing a hand on your thigh. you had full intentions in drinking tonight, sex was already on your mind. you couldn’t wait to get back to his apartment and you weren’t even drunk yet.

“so y/n, how have you been? i feel like i don’t see you much.” leo asks across the table.

“i’ve been good! busy working sadly, but good. how are you?” you reply, placing your hand on top of mason’s and squeezing it.

“i’ve been good, im glad daniella could make it to be here tonight.” he smiles, hugging onto his girlfriend who you’d grown quite fond of since you met. the service was quick, you got your food very quickly. you were grateful because that meant you didn’t have to sit at this awkward dinner for hours on end. except, it wasn’t actually awkward. you were just buzzing, bordering drunk, and feeling self conscious about it.

“mason.” you mumble.

“what?” he replies, running a light thumb over the skin of your leg.

“can you finish your food?”

“what’s the rush?” he asks with concern.

“i don’t feel good.” you half-lie.

“okay.” he says waving the server over for the bill. mason hands him his card without looking at the cost and takes his final bites. when the server returns with his card, you bid leo and daniella goodbye and quickly find your way out of the restaurant.

“i’m sorry for making you leave. i’m a little buzzed and bloated. i feel ugly i just wanted to leave.” you state apologetically.

“you’re not ugly, you look beautiful. it’s okay, we can go back to my apartment, get you into some pajamas yeah?” he says, returning his hand to his place on your thigh.

“i’d like that.” you blush, appreciating how he was caring for you.

-

you laid in bed breathlessly, your buzz still lingering even after the unbelievable hour of sex you just had. mason hated seeing you feel insecure or bad about yourself and always found a way to fight it.

“do you need anything? a shower? a drink?” he asks, stroking your hair lightly. his aftercare was always what you looked forward to most after fucking. he never disappointed.

“no i’m okay thank you though.” you sigh, just simply enjoying this moment, not knowing how long it would last.

“mason?” you ask after moments of silence.

“yeah?”

“can i ask you something?”

“sure can.”

“how do you feel about me?” you ask indirectly.

“well first of all, i love being around you. you’re smart, funny, sweet, beautiful. what else is there to say?”

“no no like, ugh. i don’t know.”

“are you trying to ask if i have feelings for you?”

“pfft what? no i wasn’t, but i mean if you wanna answer that question id appreciate it.” you giggle, relaxing into your lingering buzz.

“is it not obvious that i like you?”

“no, why do you think i wanted you to answer the question?” you reply, smacking him on the chest.

“i’m always touching you, i call you beautiful, i buy you things. what could be clearer?” he asks with a deadpan face.

“hey relax, i’m half messing with you. i like you too but i think you knew that.” you smirk and he finally cracks a smile.

“yeah i knew.” he giggles.

“why didn’t you act on it?” you scoff, sitting up abruptly and moving your straddle his hips.

“i was t sure the extent of your likeness for me.” he says before you bend over and connect your lips sweetly.

“i think that should say enough.” you say sitting back up again.

“fuck y/n.” he sighs, placing his hands lightly on the outside of your thighs.

“what mason?”

“i don’t think i like you actually,” he pauses and your heart stops. you climb off of him and sit next to him.

“did i do something wrong i-“

“no no, y/n you’re drunk stop.”

“tell me mase.”

“i don’t think i like you, i know i do. in fact i don’t just like you, i love you. i love you y/n and i wanna be with you. i wanna wake up next to you every morning, i wanna see your posts with the wags, i wanna hear about your day and your work. i want to love you all the time.” he confesses to you, joining you sitting up.

“mason i don’t even know what to say.” you reply, wrapping the brunette in your embrace.

“you don’t have to say anything. i couldn’t keep that from you anymore and im sorry if you don’t feel the same way.”

“no no mason i do. i love you too. i’ve been head over heels in love with you for a while i can’t sit here and lie to your face.” you giggle and he smiles, relief washing over his face.

“so you’d be my girlfriend?”

“absolutely i would.” you reply, jumping into his arms.

“what a fucking relief.” he says lowly.

“y/n mctavish, change my contact name babe.”

“on it.” he giggles in response, picking up his phone from the nightstand, seeing his lockscreen for the first time. i picture of you and him in your mirror the day of dux in tux.

“awe.” you say and he turns to you.

“oh, my lockscreen?”

“yes”

“i made it my lockscreen because i couldn’t stop looking at it. you look so fucking perfect.” he says directing your attention to the phone.

“i don’t even know how to accept your flattery but at least now i know all your compliments weren’t out of pity.”

“oh never baby, never.” he giggles, kissing your cheek delicately.

-

[redfurrycat]

🤠🍺🍽️🐓Chef, Bartender & Waiter Fic Recs🐓🍽️🍺🤠

GIF by @unicornships

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: Coconutcordiale, Dracculaura, Grimjobs, Hangmanbradshaw, Haridwar, MacMonkey, Nixie_DeAngel, ReformedTsundere, Saturn, SunMonTue, Xo_em, Youlookgood.

Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor AU > Mechanic AU > Bakery & Coffee Shop AU

we're not finished here by haridwar {T}

Jake finds out Maverick has a son in the middle of dogfight football.

Overboard by MacMonkey {T}

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Bradley snapped his eyes up the moment he heard the voice, dropping his phone onto the counter in shock. There was no way. Jake Seresin stood before him with a sharp grin, an apron, and an empty glass. “Bradley Bradshaw. As I live and breathe.”

It’s Autumn In New York by xo_em {M}

Everything's Waiting For You (Downtown) When Bradley’s breath catches, in a way it hasn’t in literal years of bartending, he’s a tad shaken.

IWTBY Verse by hangmanbradshaw {E}{_}

 muse by youlookgood {T}

Lately, it's like the spark that would keep driving Bradley forward each night, the fire on his fingertips hot and blazing just like the sweet burn of the drink that comes between and after sets, has been snuffed out. He sees his half-steady gig work and instead of a semblance of comfort and that sun-bright thrill, he feels... ...a little empty. Then, "Can I get you another?"

Cuddle Bug in Training by ReformedTsundere {T}

"I'm not dating any psychopaths this time, Nat, promise," Bradley says, trying for lightness but only managing something so tired he's surprised he hadn't yawned the whole way through. Natasha snorts, her arms unfolding, but the look on her face remains painfully unimpressed.

after this I'm never gonna be the same by haridwar {M}

Bradley had always been an intense man. Prison, it seemed, hadn’t done anything to change that.

Bird on a Wire by SunMonTue {E}

Hangster AU Meetcute. Jake tries to make a good impression on one of the servers at a restaurant. Except he turns out to be the head chef. Who in turn tries make a good impression. Their families try and help.

Mercury & Manganese by SunMonTue {T}

An AU MeetUgly (where I failed to meet the assignment as it feels too soft, nice and gentle to really be a MeetUgly? Maybe?). No one is in the Navy. This centres around chefs and restaurants and drinks, but it's all very background. Background established IceMav.

waiting on the other side by Saturn {E}

Mouth agape, Bradley stood there dumbly as his brain tried to calibrate the dissonance of seeing Hangman in a food truck. “You work here?” Bradley asked, incredulity laced into the question. He supposed bumping into Hangman at an airshow wasn’t entirely unlikely, but the sight of the former aviator—pad in hand, ready to take Bradley’s order—was a shock. “Even worse, Rooster,” Hangman said easily, and Bradley tried to avoid flinching at the use of his callsign, “I own the place.” Post-retirement, Bradley is struggling to find his place. He gets help from an unlikely source.

dancing in convertibles by coconutcordiale {M}

“He’s not that great,” Jake mumbles. “You’re only saying that ‘cause he’s your ex,” Charlotte accuses, but it’s without malice. He thinks. “I’m really not.” It’s not a lie, since they never actually dated, but it’s not like he’s going to admit that out loud. + aka the hotel staff au

Neon Lights & Blue Moon Tides by Nixie_DeAngel {T}

Blinking, Jake lifts his gaze to shoot the other man a look of curiosity. He watches as Bradley glances at him before refocusing on his work. Or, Jake puts his foot in his mouth and then manages to save himself from it.

party fowl by dracculaura

under the lights tonight {M}

jake goes to bradley's club for the first time

with just one look {_}

bradley meets the man his friends have spent six months trying to set him up with

whiskey on ice (sunset on vine) by grimjobs {E}

“Just lie then,” Bradley said, easy as that. “What?” Jake asked, incredulous. “Just lie,” Bradley shrugged, “tell your sister you’re dating someone, make it all up. She gets off your back, and you don’t have to suffer the pain and torment of caring about another person. Problem solved.”

[legally-allowed-to-slime]

Before Gem could register it, Scar’s sword ran her through, taking out the last of her hearts.

The death screen flashed in front of her. She instinctively pressed the respawn button, and all of the weight in her body disappeared, leaving her lighter than a feather.

She looked down at her hands. They were transparent. No weight, no colour. A ghost.

She was dead. And she’d respawned in her bed.

Oh, God…

Scott.

She’d always known from day one that in the end there would be a final battle, that there would’ve been kills she didn’t want to make. But it had always been hazy in her mind.

She’d gone along cheerfully, picking off anyone who wasn’t on her side, never thinking that when it came down to it she would have to kill someone she called an ally.

More than that. A friend.

She remembered Scott’s blue eyes. Not staring at her in his final moments, but focusing on his inventory, and her diamond blade swinging down, and the lightning blinding her for half a second…

Gem gasped and clutched her head. Those few seconds kept replaying in her mind.

“You have to kill me, Gem.”

She knew even now that Scar and, and, Pearl were probably fighting it out, deciding the winner, or whatever. Winning didn’t seem to matter now.

The lightning flashed again, in front of her eyes.

She hadn’t wanted to be the leader! Why had Scott kept looking to her as if she was, telling her to kill him? Why did he have to die like that? She didn’t want to do this anymore.

Gem tried to lean against the wall to stabilise herself, but she fell right through and ended up outside, floating anxiously.

The cherry leaves were still falling, like nothing had happened. As if the base could stay in its pink, cherry, happy state forever.

(The crater by the entrance disagreed.)

Scott’s voice, her sword, the lightning, her gasp after she’d done it were all confused in her mind. Overwhelmed, she squeezed her eyes shut, but it wouldn’t stop ringing.

“Gem! Gem, you okay?”

Gem, nearly hyperventilating, barely heard Impulse but looked up.

“It’s okay, we’ve all been there,” Impulse said soothingly as she practically collapsed into his grasp, relieved for something real.

“She’s up here?… Oh, Gem,” Scott ran into earshot. Gem broke away and looked at Scott uncertainly, still breathing fast, her heart pumping. What felt like her heart. She didn’t know how ghosts worked.

“Scott?”

“You did so good,” he said, smiling but not moving closer, as if unsure of how she would react.

“Scott, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that, uh, I’d have to kill you, and I just got caught up in the moment, and, you know,” Gem rambled hysterically.

“I don’t regret it. You carried the band so, so well. You’re safe now, alright? All good.”

Gem slowly nodded as she tried to recollect herself. “Right.”

“It’s always like this on the first series. I remember in Third Life everyone was so shocked after they died.” Impulse said, grinning as he pat Gem on the shoulder.

“Nah, in Double Life when Pearl died was even worse. Ready to kill everyone, more like.”

Gem’s head snapped up. “Pearl! She— she and Scar…”

She hadn’t expected it, she hadn’t expected Pearl to swoop in for a blow as she was fending Scar off. And then she’d just stood back and let Scar kill Gem. Entirely indifferent. Betrayal without a word.

She hadn’t understood, Cleo had been right. She hadn’t understood a single thing about the death game, and it wasn’t a game, it was just death—

Gem started to panic again, gasping for air. Scott quickly put his arm around her.

“Shh, don’t worry about that. It happens every time. You get used to it. For now, just relax, okay?” Scott said reassuringly.

“Okay, okay,” Gem said, half in tears.

There was no sound for a while, except for the wind extending its wispy fingers through the cherry leaves.

“Come on, let’s sit on the plank,” Impulse said.

So they did. Since they weren’t solid it couldn’t be done, but they decided to float above it instead and look out on the rest of the server, empty but, finally, peaceful.

“The band’s back together,” Scott joked.

Gem sighed, and smiled. For now, for that brief moment in time, everything was okay.

[renx01]

Out of sight - part 4

General idea: Moriarty is your boss. After he helped you out of a precarious situation when you were still a minor, you started working for him. Now, he has a new job for you. Get close to the Holmes brothers to keep an eye on them for him. Pairings: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Reader  & Jim Moriarty/Reader Fandom: BBC Sherlock Word count: 2203

Masterlist

The following morning you woke up at 5 am again and went on another run. This time, Seb wasn’t there to greet you, but you really didn’t mind. After another 15 km run you shower and head to Scotland Yard. The tube, as always, is quite busy at this hour. At your arrival, you’re greeted by Greg, Anderson and Donovan arrive shortly after you do. It’s obvious they’d spent the night together again, but you decide it’s for the better not to comment. You suppose both their partners are away on business trips.

Most of your morning is spent going through files related to the same homicide as the previous day and making some adjustments to your report. All of the evidence is relatively straightforward and logical. Yet you’ve noticed that quite a few people aren’t as capable as you had expected, meaning that it’s unlikely for them to solve the crime without you pushing them in the right direction a bit more. While there are some in the department that are capable to an extent, it is quite telling that Sherlock has to be called in to solve so many cases. As you’re looking through some photographs and other evidence, DI Lestrade approaches your desk looking awfully nervous for some unknown reason. ‘Hey Charlie.’ He greets you. ‘Greg, how may I help you?’ You smile kindly at him. The smile he gives back is quite sheepish. ‘I was wondering if you could check some evidence related to a different case; me and the rest of the team are a bit stuck and it seems you might be able to discern some more information.’ Nodding, you pull up the server which holds all the evidence that’s been collected. ‘Which case?’ You turn to the screen and look for the code he names. It’s a recent case, which only happened about a month ago but there still aren’t any suspects that have been arrested. This particular homicide happened a few streets down from where the victim had last been seen at a pub. Supposedly, the woman had left to go home but never made it there. ‘Is there any camera footage from the pub?’ Greg shakes his head in response. ‘In this day and age? That’s quite remarkable. What was the victim’s name?’ ‘Vanessa McEwan.’ You type the name into the database. ‘About half a year ago she filed for a restraining order against an ex-boyfriend of hers. Despite having petitioned to cancel it only two months after, you should probably look into him. Maybe the toxic ex got back into contact with her, apologised and she forgave him. That doesn’t mean that he’s actually changed though…’ Greg looks at your computer screen intently. ‘I suggest you look into this ex, Thomas Jones, and check the camera footage around the bar. While he may not have been in the bar with her, he may have picked her up with the intent of getting her home safely. At least, that’s probably what she thought when she went with him.’ From the corner of your eye, you see him swallow thickly. You decide to ignore it and not comment. A few moments pass before he thanks you and goes back to his own office.

Before lunch you managed to finish the report on the gang related homicide and started working on the one Lestrade had asked you to look at. When he approaches you again that afternoon, you show him some of the footage of cameras located close to the crime scene. They had clearly been arguing before they went to, supposedly, talk in the alleyway. An alleyway only Thomas had left afterwards. ‘This is great Charlie, you’re an angel for finding this footage.’ He smiles. ‘I suppose you should go catch the man then, he seems to have booked a trip to Ibiza and is set to leave in a few days' time.’ You respond almost too coolly, but he seems to brush it off before calling for Donovan to join him and leaving. 

To be frank, you’re bored. Bored of all the mind numbingly stupid people around you, bored of having to pretend to be similar, bored of sitting around all day and pretending that you haven’t solved the case yourself yet. As the afternoon turns into night, more people start leaving the office, with you sitting at your computer compiling evidence for yet another case. Around seven o’clock, you decide it’s time to head to baker street. The ride on the tube is calm, the music from your earphones drowning out the people around you. You hope that Sherlock will be there when you arrive, though based on how his case was going yesterday, you think it is quite likely that he is visiting a museum to gather more information on what the number fifteen could possibly mean to the people that see it shortly before their death. Looking at his personality and how seemingly easily he manages to solve cases, you understand why Jim is so fascinated by him. He is quite easy to read though, he is more emotional than you had expected and he doesn’t seem to hide who he truly is like you are doing by assuming the persona you are for this particular mission. His brother, on the other hand, clearly is hiding whatever sentiment he has since he sees it as a weakness. Yet his weakness is so glaringly obvious it’s almost comical. He even revealed it the first time you met him, his little brother Sherlock. To you, it seems like quite a poor decision to reveal such a thing so blatantly, but you suppose he believes most people are too much of a goldfish to realise that. On your way back you decide to get some take-away curry and naan for dinner at an Indian restaurant just around the corner from Baker Street. When you open the front door, you’re met by Mrs Hudson who looks quite startled. ‘Good evening Mrs Hudson.’ She smiles. ‘Hello dearie, did you have a good day at work?’ You nod. ‘Yeah it was good, nothing remarkable going on. I just got some Indian food on the way here though, so that’s exciting.’ She laughs at that. ‘You really have your priorities, don’t you?’ She hits your arm as she continues laughing. ‘Well yes, would you like some? This is far too much for me alone, so if you’d like we can have dinner together.’ Her gaze softens. ‘That would be lovely dearie.’

So, that night, you end up having dinner with Mrs Hudson, who tells you that Sherlock’s gone for the case, taking John with him. She tells you what they’ve been up to all day, complaining about all the noise the detective makes. It’s clear to you, though, that she actually doesn’t mind that much, if she did she would’ve evicted him ages ago. You suppose she likes you too, to an extent. Hopefully it will come in handy in the future. Sherlock has a soft spot for her anyway, so he’s more likely to trust you if she does too. After the two of you finish your dinner, you help her clear the table and do the dishes. ‘Charlie, thank you very much for this evening. It was lovely.’ You smile down at her. ‘It was my pleasure, Mrs Hudson.’ When you finally step into your flat, you put down your work bag and lay down on your bed, staring at the ceiling. This really isn’t the type of mission you’re used to. 

He’s out on a case again, probably related to Hong Kong. You should keep an eye on them, wouldn’t want them messing with your new toy. - S

A few minutes pass before you get a response.

Thanks. I will. -JM

~~~~~~

The following days were spent in the same manner. Going for a run, going to work, working, going home, speaking to Mrs Hudson, and going to bed. It’s a repetitive routine and you suppose this is what most people do. You still haven’t seen much of Sherlock, but you supposed it makes sense when he’s on a case. One night, when you arrive home after a long day, you’re met by John who is about to leave. 

‘Oh hi Charlie, it’s been a while.’ You smile and nod  ‘It has indeed.’ He looks to be more dressed up than he usually is. ‘Going on a date?’ ‘I am. How did you know that?’ To be fair, you hadn’t really anticipated that question. ‘Well, usually you go out with Sherlock at night, you know, to solve cases and such. Seeing that he isn’t here with you, I just assumed.’ That wasn’t actually why you assumed, but it is what most people would probably say if they knew John for a long enough time. ‘Well, I won’t hold you up for much longer. Hope you have fun.’ Quietly, you pass him and open the door that had just closed. When you’re about to go in, he puts a hand on your shoulder. ‘Thank you, really.’ He says with a smile when you turn to face him. ‘Of course.’ You smile back before entering the building.

Before you’re able to enter your flat, you hear Sherlock running down the stairs. ‘Charlie,’ he looks around the corner,  ‘you’re right on time. Want to join me for a case?’ This is the opportunity you’d been waiting for. ‘Sure, I don’t see why not.’ You pretend to hesitate. ‘Though, I don’t think I’ll be of much help.’ His face contorts into something you don’t recognise. ‘Don’t fret about such things, John doesn’t tend to add much either. Besides, I think you’d be more of a help when it comes to this, with your job and all.’ When he finishes speaking he’s already halfway out the door. Quickly, you put your work bag inside and lock your flat before following the detective out the door.

You arrive at the circus shortly after John and Sarah, who are talking to the person giving out the tickets. ‘I’ve got two reserved for tonight.’ You hear John say as you approach. ‘What name is it?’ The lady at the ticket counter looks at him curiously. ‘Ehm… Holmes.’ Of course Sherlock has arranged this. Based on where it’s located and the theme of the circus, it’s likely to be related to the case, which John, of course, hadn’t anticipated. ‘Actually, I have four in that name.’ After he accepts the envelope with Sherlock’s name on it, he tells her that there must’ve been an error. ‘He booked two.’ Grabbing this opportunity to hijack John’s date, Sherlock finally approaches them. ‘And then I phoned and got one for me and Charlie as well.’ Sarah finally turns to face the two of you. ‘I’m Sherlock.’ You give her an awkward smile. ‘I’m Charlie.’

Sarah heads to the bathroom shortly after and John starts arguing with Sherlock. ‘You couldn’t let me have one night off?’ He looks at the detective accusingly before glancing at you. ‘I was not involved in the decision making, Sherlock just asked me to join him on a case and I accepted. I didn’t know we’d be crashing your date.’ You hold your hands up in defence. ‘True, I dragged them along.’ He states matter-of-factly. ‘Besides, the Yellow Dragon Circus! One day they’re in London. It fits. The Tong sent an assassin to England…’ He returns to his usual, somewhat excited, self. You’ve noticed he only speaks like this when it’s about a case or John. ‘Dressed up as a tightrope walker! Come on, Sherlock. Behave!’ The smaller man scolds the other. ‘A killer who can climb! Who can shin up a rope! Where else would you find that level of dexterity?’ He continues rambling about the possibilities and you start looking around the room. It’s clear that Sherlock is probably right about the assassin, though they probably also know of him looking into them. In the future he should consider being more careful when it comes to just walking into a place like this.‘Fine. You go ahead, I’ll take Sarah off for a pint.’ John sounds defeated. ‘I need your help.’ Sherlock states. ‘Look, I do have one or two other things on my mind this evening. Besides, you have Charlie with you. They are perfectly qualified to help you.’ The other man looks confused. ‘Like what?’ Of course, Sherlock’s one and only priority are his cases, there’s no room for trivial things such as romantic entanglements. Not consciously anyway. By the way he chooses to ignore the mention of you, there is reason to suspect there may be some underlying… interest. ‘You are kidding?’ John sounds shocked and annoyed. He really hasn’t gained full comprehension of how Sherlock works. ‘What’s so important?’ ‘Sherlock. I’m in the middle of a date. You want me to accost some killer whilst I’m trying to…’ Obviously Sherlock doesn’t understand at all. ‘What?’ John groans. ‘Whilst I’m trying -’ ‘John, I’ll try to keep Sherlock in check, sorry about all this.’ You grab the detective’s arm and drag him away as Sarah comes out of the toilet. John forces a smile as he turns to her. ‘Ready?’

[mostmagical]

Hii @sincerely-kiwi! I'm your Secret Santa for the Ashville discord server Secret Santa exchange!! This got just a little away from me, so I'll be posting part 2 tomorrow :)

Words: 7.2k (Ch. 2/2) Summary:

After yet another late night akuma interrupts her sleepover, Ladybug and her partner are forced to find cover to recharge where an unexpected observation from Chat Noir leads to some equally unexpected revelations for Marinette (and maybe a few scars).

Read Chapter 1 either on Ao3 or below the cut!

The beeping in her ears was insistent as Ladybug touched down on the nearest rooftop from the battle location, Chat Noir sharp on her heels. A clothesline split the rooftop patio in half, long white linens blowing in the slight breeze, and she quickly dashed to the other side.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she couldn’t see her partner anymore from behind the makeshift cover. “Looks like this will do,” she said brightly. “No peeking!”

“You know I would never do such a thing!” Her partner’s voice carried an air of mock-affront, Ladybug only marginally holding back her giggle in response. “I’m a purr-fect gentleman.”

Regardless, her transformation dropped, Tikki spiralling into her hands. She smiled down at the kwami, rummaging around in her purse with one hand for one of the treats she had set aside. She couldn’t help the way her eyes drifted down as she tried to locate something in the tiny bag—especially not when she spotted something she had never seen before.

On the other side of the sheet, Marinette could see two socked feet, connected to two pale legs. The sheet stopped at the top of the calf, so she couldn’t see anything other than that. Just two gray ankle socks. So simple and so un-Chat Noir-like she almost laughed in surprise. With him, she always thought of bright colors and patterns. A goofy guy like Chat Noir should be wearing goofy socks, in her honest opinion. The positioning of the sheet meant she could only imagine what else he might be wearing, and as much as she knew she shouldn’t, Marinette’s mind loved to imagine.

He must have been wearing some sort of short pants, considering she could see his bare skin. What kind of shorts would Chat Noir wear? Was he an athlete? Considering the sort of stunts she had seen him do on the daily, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was some sort of rugby player, or soccer— No, not soccer, she remembered with a smirk. So maybe rugby fit him best.

Part of her wondered if he had been getting ready for bed. Maybe he was in pajamas like her and Alya had been. The socks with no shoes certainly told her that he had been inside somewhere. What kind of thing might Chat Noir wear to bed? Did he wear goofy prints and sets with cats all over them? Or… less? No. Her face flushing red, Marinette quickly moved on to another line of thinking.

She wondered what Chat Noir wore on a day-to-day basis. Was he casual? More formal? What kind of colors did he like to wear?

Her mind drifted to the only other time she had seen him without a miraculous transformation, when he had run around in that banana suit. Now, that was an outfit befitting Chat Noir. She covered her mouth with one hand as a giggle threatened to break free at the memory.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that a tail I see, m’Lady?”

Startled from her thoughts by the sudden voice, Marinette jumped straight up, breath catching in her throat with a gasp. As she came down, her feet seemed to trip over one another, and she fell backwards with half a shriek on her lips. Her body came crashing down into a collection of terracotta pots, the loud sound of shattering functioning as a backdrop as one broke directly under her elbow.

Marinette clamped her teeth together, bracing herself against the stinging pain in her arm.

Of course. Of course, she had completely forgotten she was wearing the outfit in the first place, and of course with her luck, the one person who couldn’t have possibly seen her in it actually saw her in it. Alya was going to have a field day when she heard about this. Her mind flashed back to their earlier conversation just before the akuma struck.

“What?” Marinette asked, turning to stare at Alya, having felt her friend’s eyes burning into the back of her head.

Alya snorted from across the room, shifting to hold the tray of cookies she held on her hip. “What are you wearing?” she asked.

Marinette looked down at herself, not seeing anything wrong with the black fabric covering her body. “My pajamas,” she answered simply. “I wanted to try making a onesie and I think it turned out pretty okay.” She shrugged, before remembering herself. “Oh! I made you one, too!” She quickly scrambled to her feet, rushing over to the far side of her desk where the pile of orange fabric was waiting for her. “Ta-da!”

The onesie unfurled between them as she dramatically presented it to Alya, orange tail lightly brushing against Marinette’s slippers as it fell.

“I’m also making some for Nino and Adrien, and probably Chat if I can figure out a good excuse for where it came from,” she continued to rapidly explain. “It’s a little silly, but I think they’d make great gifts!”

Alya stared at the presented outfit, eyebrows slowly raising. “M, that’s really cute! Thank you!” she said, stepping forward to finally place the tray down. “I do have to ask though, why Rena Rouge?”

“Why not Rena Rouge?” Marinette asked, winking. “She��s your favorite, right?”

“Sure, we can say that,” Alya laughed, “but you’re wearing Chat Noir.”

Marinette blinked, again looking down at her outfit. The golden bell she had fitted to the zipper pull glittered up at her. “Yeah, and?”

“Is he your favorite superhero?” Alya asked, a teasing grin on her face. Marinette did not enjoy the lilt of her tone.

Her face colored pink. “What?” she scoffed. “I don’t have favorites.”

Alya once again raised her eyebrows, staring Marinette down over the frames of her glasses. “Mmhmm,” she hummed. “You better hope he doesn’t see you in that, then.”

Marinette laughed. “Yeah, right! Like there’d be any chance of Chat seeing me in this.”

“With your luck?” Alya teased. “I think you better watch what you say.”

“Hey!” Marinette whined, folding the Rena Rouge onesie again and placing it on her desk. “That’s not—”

As if on cue, both their phones began ringing with an akuma alert.

“You were saying?” Alya laughed.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” Marinette rolled her eyes. “But I’ll be transformed the whole time anyway.” She walked towards her window as she called for her transformation.

Alya just wiggled her fingers in a wave. “Say hi to your favorite superhero for me!”

“Ladybug?” Chat Noir frantically called from the other side of the sheet, breaking her from her thoughts. “What was that?” An arm-shaped silhouette pressed against the middle-most sheet, the outline of a boy becoming clearer, before it seemed to think better and disappeared. “Sorry! I didn’t see anything but the tail and I just couldn’t help myself!”

Marinette almost laughed, but the prominent throb of her arm had her screwing her mouth shut once again.

“Are you okay?” he called again when she didn’t respond, his voice strained with worry. “What happened?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she replied. “I just fell, that's all.”

“I thought so,” he sighed. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m—” She cut herself off as she looked down at her arm. Her sleeve was torn, but that was an easy fix. An ugly red gash ran from the inside of her elbow to about halfway down her forearm, trickles of blood staining her skin. She hissed out through her teeth. “I’m fine,” she lied. Without thinking, she tried to brush some of the soil dusted over it away, but only served to hit the edges of the wound, causing her to hiss again.

“If you’re fine, what was that hiss?”

Panicked, Marinette squeaked, “Nothing!”

“No way.” She could hear a worried frown in his voice. “That sounded like an ‘I’m bleeding’ hiss. One of my friends makes that hiss all the time.”

“It was absolutely not an ‘I’m bleeding’ hiss.”

“So are you bleeding?”

Her voice came out small. “No.”

“My Lady.” His voice came out disbelieving.

“I’m not bleeding.”

“Yes, she is.”

Marinette gasped as she suddenly noticed Plagg beside her, looking down at her bloody injury. “Hey!”

Plagg looked up at her with a satisfied smirk before flying back over the clothesline divider.

Before she could make any complaints about privacy, Marinette heard her partner’s voice, quieter than she was used to. It had an air of something— was it feebleness? —to it that she never would have expected from him. “Ladybug, will you please let me see it?” he asked, pleading. “Please?”

Marinette blinked, stunned, and without even realizing what she was doing, she was standing up and walking back towards the sheet. It was only when she arrived back at her original position that she noticed there was a little issue with that plan. “Wait,” she said, “how am I supposed to show you? I’m not– My transformation will cover it up.”

“Don’t transform. Just stick your arm between the sheets here.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “No, I might…” Her voice went quieter as she finally admitted it. “I might stain them.”

“If you do, I’ll buy them a replacement.”

“What?”

“Here.”

Marinette’s eyes went wide as the sheets suddenly parted for her, a small gap about the size of her arm appearing.

“Just stick your arm through here. I won’t look anywhere else.”

Hesitantly, she complied, pushing her arm through the gap slowly. She cringed when she heard Chat’s gasp.

“It’s not that bad,” she defended.

“Not that bad?” She tried to ignore the sudden shock she felt when fingers wrapped around her wrist. Bare fingers. “Look at all this blood,” he continued. “Are you woozy? Does it hurt?”

“No.” There was a gentle prod to the inside of her elbow, right above where the cut began. Marinette hissed again.

“Yes,” Chat said, answering his own question. “I need to patch this up.” There were more prods along the gash, forcing a whimper out of Marinette’s mouth against her wishes. “Sorry, my Lady,” came his gentle voice, “I’m just trying to see how deep it is.”

She worried her bottom lip, trying to ignore the pain and the feeling of warm fingertips on her skin. “Does– Does it look deep?” she asked.

“It might be best for you to see a doctor in case you need stitch—”

“No! No stitches,” she refused. She didn’t even know how she would begin to explain this one to her parents.

“Okay, no stitches,” he relented, to her relief, “but we do need to stop this bleeding and cover it up. I’m worried you might get an infection.” His hand started to gently brush against her skin, sending the hairs on the back of her neck standing up straight. “What did you fall on? There’s dirt all over your arm.”

Marinette swallowed against the lump in her throat, looking over her shoulder at the destruction she left behind. “Uh, someone’s garden, it looks like,” she answered. “A few terracotta pots.”

Chat hummed in such a way that she could imagine his cat ears pressing flat against his head. “Is there a watering can or anything?”

“Uh, I mean…” She scanned over the shattered pots and scattered soil, spotting a squirt bottle just a bit away on a small gardening cart. “Yes, I see a squirt bottle. Why?”

“I need to clean this.”

“What?” she squeaked, turning back towards the sheet and his voice. “No– You don’t– I can just go home.”

“Absolutely not,” he replied, firm enough to surprise her. “I don’t want this to get any deeper than it already is, so it’s best I take care of this now.”

“This is silly,” Marinette whined. She tried to pull away, but his grip was strong around her wrist. Struggling only made the pain flare up again. “You really don’t have to.”

“Tikki,” Chat Noir called instead, ignoring her pleas. “Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here!” Tikki replied, floating into Marinette’s point of view.

“Hide! Don’t let her leave!”

Marinette gasped in her betrayal as Tikki giggled. “You got it, Chat Noir!”

“Wait, you can’t do that.” She glared at Tikki who simply waved and dashed away out of sight. “You can’t turn my own kwami against me.”

“Too bad,” he laughed. “Now, about that spray bottle. Plagg, would you mind?”

Marinette watched in disbelief as Chat Noir’s kwami reappeared from over the sheet and flew towards the squirt bottle. “So, no one’s on my side?”

Chat chuckled again from the other side, his fingers now drawing small circles on the inside of her wrist that she would never admit felt very nice. “Just trying to keep the hero of Paris safe from harm. How are you supposed to throw a yoyo if you end up needing a cast? What if it needs amputation?”

She groaned, her free arm crossing over her chest in protest. Her injured arm was held captive on the other side, and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to break free or not. Chat Noir’s soft hand gently squeezed her elbow as he folded her torn sleeve over it. She swallowed. Maybe this was fine.

Plagg flew back over their makeshift divider, squirt bottle grasped between his tiny paws, and disappeared again from Marinette’s sight.

She heard a slight sloshing, as if Chat Noir had shaken the bottle.

“Okay, it looks clean,” he sighed. “It’ll have to do. I’m just going to spray a little water on your arm to clean off this dirt, okay?”

Marinette nodded, before realizing that he couldn’t see her. “Okay,” she agreed.

The water wasn’t cold, but it still surprised her when it hit her skin. A gentle hand— feather-light, as if afraid to touch her— brushed at her skin for a moment before more water was sprayed over her arm.

Chat Noir made a disappointed sound. “I really wish I had some rubbing alcohol…” he murmured. His voice was louder as he dictated an instruction to her, “When you get home, wash this again with warm water and then clean the edges with rubbing alcohol and cotton balls. If you have any antibiotic ointments, even better. That’ll stave off any bacteria from making a home here.”

She bit her lip, trying to commit his words to her memory. “Okay.”

“And then cover it with a clean bandage, okay? Don’t just reuse the old one.”

“You sound like you know what you’re talking about,” she commented.

Chat hummed approvingly. “I have a first aid certification.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Chat Noir, RN, at your service.”

Her mind conjured an image of Chat Noir, cat ears and all, in a white doctor’s coat, and she couldn’t help the snort that blew through her nose as a result. She paused as she recalled his earlier statement. “Wait, you’re going to bandage it?”

“I have to,” he said assuredly. “If I leave it open, it might just keep bleeding, or it’ll get infected.”

“Oh…” She furrowed her brows. “But where are you going to get a bandage?”

Chat Noir went quiet for a moment. It felt like he had finished cleaning the wound, and his hand still holding the underside of her forearm tapped a pattern on her skin with one finger.

“I got it,” he finally said. “One second. Stay still.”

The warmth of his hand left her, and she was surprised to realize she missed that anchor. Without it, she was reminded of the ache of the gash on her arm. She tucked her free hand under her armpit to try and support her own weight, chewing her lip.

There was a quiet rustling noise on the other side, followed by the very familiar sound of tearing fabric.

Marinette jolted, reacting immediately. “Chat, you better not be ripping up someone else’s laundry!” she growled. “I don’t care if you promise to replace it!”

“I’m not,” he replied. “This is my shirt.”

“What.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda old and I have plenty more at ho–”

“You took off your shirt?” Marinette interrupted. “Like… the one off your back?”

“I mean, yes, it’s the only one I had.”

Don’t picture shirtless Chat Noir, don’t picture shirtless Chat Noir, don’t picture—

She wished she could bury her face in her hands.

“Ladybug?”

With a flaming face, she realized she had been silent for far too long. “I– uh, you thank– Thank you,” she winced, hearing herself stutter— Ladybug wasn’t supposed to stutter—, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“No problem,” he said, as if it really didn’t matter to him that he had actually ripped the shirt off his back just to clean up her bloody mess. “I’m going to touch you again, okay?”

Marinette made a short grunt of acknowledgement, bracing herself for the feeling of his warm hands on her skin again. It came with the feeling of soft cotton fabric pressing against her, the dull ache growing sharper as he pressed against her wound.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

She chose to be honest. “It– It hurts a little, but I’m okay.”

“Good.” He sounded relieved. “It looks like the bleeding is slowing down.”

Considering all she felt was ache and wet, she decided she would take his word for it. They fell into what Marinette thought was a comfortable silence— him dabbing at her skin, and her standing still and allowing him to care for her. She tried to imagine it was just a regular trip to the nurse’s office.

In the dark. On a rooftop. In the middle of the night.

Totally normal.

After a few moments, the dabbing ceased, and instead she felt a dry cloth begin to be applied to her skin, gently wrapping around her arm.

Soon enough, Chat Noir broke the silence. “I’m really sorry, again, by the way,” he said, regret mixed with sincerity tinting the edges of his tone. “I know you said not to look and I promise I wasn’t, but I just happened to glance down and thought I saw a tail and what else could I do? Not mention it?”

Marinette steadfastly ignored the way her cheeks heated up. She couldn’t exactly get mad at him when she had been doing the same thing, after all. “It’s not your fault that I fell, you know,” she told him instead.

“It kinda feels like it is.”

“It’s not.”

Chat Noir once again fell silent on the other side of the sheet, quietly continuing his work.

Marinette tried to focus on anything other than the feeling of his fingers pressing against her skin or the melancholy hanging over them, but it was too heavy. She swallowed the lump in her throat hard enough to hurt, a dry, aching feeling pulling at her insides.

She knew what she had to do. “It is a tail,” she admitted.

Chat’s hands stopped moving. A pause fell between them. After a moment passed, he asked, “Why are you wearing a tail?”

She chewed her lip, almost regretting her decision to come clean, but she pushed through the nerves. “It’s part of my Chat Noir onesie.”

“Your what?”

He had genuine shock in his voice, clearly having heard what she said. With a laugh on the edge of her lips, Marinette tapped the bell on her zipper, letting its quiet chime answer his question for her.

“A bell?” The grip on her wrist tightened for a second before it went lax again, as if he had realized what he had done. “Oh man, I want to look so bad. Why did you do this to me?”

She laughed then, wishing she could see his face. “Just wanted you to ‘B positive,’ I guess.”

He gasped, and she could just imagine his little cat ears perking up on his head. “Oh, milady, I’m O positive you always know just what to say to make me feel better,” he laughed.

Marinette grinned, proud her little distraction worked so well. “Hey, why did the cat go to vet school?”

“Hmm… To take care of his lady?”

“No! To become a purr-fessional!”

He laughed again, loud and full. “God, I love you.”

Her breath caught in her throat at how casually he said it. She had heard him say it a thousand times, but it never failed to make her heart beat a little faster. A strangled noise made its way out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” he said. “That just slipped out. I know you don’t really want to hear me say that anymore. I meant ‘love you’ like a friend.”

“R-right…”

She didn’t want to hear that. That is what she had told him before.

Right?

There was a slight tug at the bend of her arm. “Well, you’re all set now,” Chat declared. “Miraculous Ladybug.”

She snorted. “Don’t you mean ‘Mister Bug’?”

“One of us is more miraculous than the other,” he replied. Before she could argue against him, he continued, “You even have your spots outside of the costume.”

“What do you mean?” Feeling his hands release her, she pulled her hand back through the gap. Her arm was now wrapped in white fabric, a black stripe running twice around her forearm, and a neat knot tied at her elbow. She smiled, impressed at how seamless it looked.

“Inside your wrist,” he answered, drawing her eyes to the spot. “You have two freckles. Looks just like Adalia bipunctata.”

“A-what?”

“Two-spot ladybird. It’s a ladybug.”

“Oh.” She giggled. “I have more than that,” she admitted. “In the summer, I get freckles all up and down my arms from the sun. These two just like to hang out year-round.”

“Really?” he gasped. “So you really are a real-life ladybug?”

“Maybe I am,” she teased. “Do you actually like scratches behind the ear?”

“You want to give it a try now?”

She scoffed. “You wish, kitty,” she laughed. “Tikki, you can come out now! I’m all patched up!”

A couple transformations later, Ladybug was back in her suit. She clenched and unclenched the hand on her injured arm a few times, testing the feeling. Her skin stung a bit at the pull, but otherwise it felt fine.

The hanging sheet in front of her shifted, and Chat Noir’s black pointed ears poked through the gap. He had a grin on his face. “Feel okay?” he asked.

Ladybug smiled. “Good as new.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied, stepping fully onto her side of the clothesline. “Well, then I guess I’ll see you next time, milady. Have a good night.”

“Wait,” Ladybug said, watching as his face turned questioning. She stepped closer, throwing her arms around his neck before she could talk herself out of it. “Thank you for taking care of me, Chaton.”

He was stiff at first, but soon melted into the embrace, wrapping his arms around her middle. “That’s what I’m here for, Buginette,” he muttered into her shoulder. “I’m sorry, again–”

“No, nope.” She pulled back, placing her hands on either side of his face to force him to look at her. His eyes were wide. “If you ever blame yourself for my clumsiness again, I won’t bring chouquettes for patrol anymore.”

“Whoa!” he gasped, eyebrows raising. “Threat perceived.”

“Good.” She patted his cheek gently before stepping out of his arms once more. “Good night, Chat Noir.”

“Night, Ladybug.”

With a flick of her wrist, she left him standing on the rooftop, heading back home and to her and Alya’s abandoned sleepover.

When Alya saw the wrapping on Marinette’s arm and her torn sleeve, she was understandably concerned.

“What happened to you?” she asked, rushing to her feet.

Marinette grinned, holding her hands up in a placating fashion. “Just a normal little slip,” she explained. “I’ll be right back, though,” she said, heading towards the trap door in her bedroom floor. “I promised Chat Noir I’d clean and change the bandage when I got home.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’ll explain when I get back!”

Marinette quickly made her way to the bathroom, pulling open the medicine cabinet where she knew her mother kept the first aid kit. She soon located the rubbing alcohol and a few skin-colored bandages to replace Chat’s shirt. Carefully, she undid his work, wincing when she got a look at the gash again. Luckily, it wasn’t bleeding anymore, but that didn’t stop it from looking scary. She set aside the torn fabric on the corner of the sink and got to work cleaning the wound.

Once she was finished, she carefully returned all the supplies to the kit and threw away her used cotton balls. She reached for the shirt as well, but paused when her eye caught on a gray tab sticking straight up.

The label was still intact on the collar of Chat Noir’s shirt.

She only faltered for a second before curiosity got the better of her. Her thumb brushed over the seam, turning it over until she could clearly see a stylized ‘G’ that she recognized all too well.

Eyes widening, Marinette wondered what kind of wardrobe Chat Noir had at home to tear up a designer Gabriel shirt without a second thought.

[burst-of-iridescent]

Hello! (First I wanted to say I'm sorry if you've answered this before, and if so could you please direct me to it in your response?) but I was wondering what you thought of Zuko's betrayal toward Katara in The Crossroads of Destiny, if it felt in character or not for him, if not, how do you think it should have been written differently? On the same note, what are your (specifically Zutara related) thoughts on Season 3? Is there anything you would have written differently, and if so, how? Personally, I always felt dissatisfied with S3 in general, although it was still overall enjoyable. I don't even personally dislike kataang, but maiko disgusts (and I mean REALLY) disgusts me.

i know there are many who argue that zuko's choice in CoD was character assassination, that it was meant to torpedo zutara, that it was too sudden etc etc... but personally, i've always felt that it was both in-character and necessary for zuko at that point in his arc.

i can understand how on first watch it seems like too much of a turn-around, given how zuko's arc seemed to be heading, but i think this ignores two things: firstly, that the path to redemption isn't linear and secondly, the real context of the choice that lay before zuko in CoD.

it's one thing to give up on chasing the avatar and accept a quiet, humble life in ba sing se; it's another entirely to actively turn traitor yourself and work against your nation and your family. part of the reason zuko was able to reconcile himself to being lee the tea shop server forever is because it was essentially a path of passive neutrality: he was helping neither the avatar, nor the fire nation. it was the best option available to him, a grey area that allowed him to find some measure of peace without forcing him to pick a side.

azula's coup, however, destroys any chance zuko has of ever going back to that life. he's been dragged right back into the conflict, and this time there's no question of staying out of it. one way or another, he'll be forced to fight, and the only choice left to him is who his enemy will be. azula, his own sister, offering him everything he's ever wanted? or aang, the boy he's spent years hunting, who embodies everything he's been taught to oppose?

and so naturally, when confronted with a dangerous unknown, he chooses to go back to what's familiar and what he spent most of his life believing he wanted. remember that zuko is also a victim of a lifetime of abuse and indoctrination in a moment of extreme psychological stress, and it's no wonder that he picks what he sees as safe and easy (zuko isn't actually safe in the fire nation ofc and he knows that, but it comes back to the case of the devil you know vs the devil you don't), though he himself is aware deep down that it's the wrong choice.

from a character perspective, zuko also needed to go back to the fire nation to realize how much he's changed, and that the home he'd always yearned to return to didn't actually exist, and probably never had. had zuko actually gone with the gaang in the book 2 finale, i think a little part of him might have always wondered about the what-if of it all. ultimately, i think it strengthens zuko's redemption for him to backslide and then actively make the choice to change and still try to do better, further proving the show's message of how it's never too late to do the right thing.

the only thing i would have changed is how zuko's arc in the first half of book 3 is handled, because while i do get what the writers were going for, i think it was a wasted opportunity to get insight into the war from the fire nation's perspective. it would've been cool to see zuko learning about the gaang's exploits and slowly putting the pieces together about who was likely responsible for it, allowing us to see the effects of their actions from the other point of view.

book 3 was definitely the most unsatisfying of the series, because the season as a whole is the least cohesive and well-planned of the three, and coming on the heels of the near-perfect book 2, the disparity is even more obvious. it's somewhat masked by the fact that it does have some of the best individual episodes of the series, which is probably why many people overlook how weak the season is as a whole.

i actually wouldn't change anything zutara-related other than letting them have ONE conversation and a hug post-agni kai (as they deserved) because that entire arc was just *chef's kiss*. my problems with book 3 stem almost entirely from the finale and aang's overall arc, but that's probably too long to get into here so tldr: less magic pointy rock, lion turtle, and half-assed relationships, more letting go of katara, confronting grief over air nomads, and found family with hints of an actually well-developed romance for the future.

sigh, to think of all we could have had.

[loosesodamarble]

Welcome to the Black Bird Part 12: Elias the Blissful

Summary: Introducing Henry as Elias, the purest sweetheart to walk the floors of the Black Bird. Genre: general Word count: ~900 A/N: @cringeyvanillamilk was commissioned for the art of Henry.

..........

Henry’s life came to him in two ways.

The first way was with his parents’ money. His parents paid off medical bills. His wheelchair and crutches were bought for him. An apartment with accessibility, a college experience, and basically his whole life were all bought with what he inherited from his parents.

The second way was by his own struggle. At the tender age of six, he had to find the resolve to face the prick of needles and the disorientation that came with being put under for surgery after surgery. Henry had to push the wheels of his chair forward and lift himself up with crutches. He was the one to reach out to his apartment neighbors. The one to hunch over a desk and stay awake until unreasonable hours to study. The one to live.

Of course Henry was grateful to his parents who provided what his fragile self needed. But his life had been given to him for free—ironic as it was to say—and he was numb to the idea of money. He knew what it could do but he didn’t know how to value it. Because none of it was ever his own.

Henry wanted to remedy that. To practice earning his own living somewhere small before his education ended and he was thrust into working on a scale much too large for someone as inexperienced as himself.

He scrolled past numerous job listings. Online jobs might’ve been convenient, but Henry didn’t want to stay cooped up in his apartment. Heavy manual labor was out of the question. Several jobs were promising at a glance but failed to accommodate his needs upon closer inspection. Not to mention all the “entry-level” jobs with ridiculous work experience expectations.

Henry paused at one listing: a server at a cafe and one particular line of the job description. “Needs to be willing to act.” What an odd thing to include…

…..

The Black Bird was slow that day.

Without many customers at tables or staff bustling across the floor, the tap of Henry’s crutches against the floor could be noticed if someone wasn’t already focused on something else.

Henry approached a table where a group of four, middle-aged women chatted amongst themselves as they waited for his arrival. They were regulars at the cafe, made evident by their eager smiles when they saw Henry approach.

“Elias!” one of the ladies called with a boisterous voice. “Oh you poor dear, you’re on your crutches today!” Her eyes creased in a look of worry. “Can’t Lady Nero give you the day off?”

“Madame Oriana, you’ve nothing to worry about,” Henry replied with a relaxed grin. “I admit to aching a bit today, but it’s nothing too severe for me. Besides, I wouldn’t want to miss out on a day of seeing lovely faces such as your party today.”

At his statement, the ladies cooed over him.

“If only my son was half as cute as you, then I’d be a proud mama!”

“Elias, do tell me if you want a girlfriend, I have a niece who would be right up your alley!”

“Oh my! I could never be worthy of dating the family of one of you fine women,” Henry playfully bantered.

“Ever the sweetheart,” the most petite of the women, Lou Ann, remarked. “Let me give you a pat, Elias. You deserve one.”

Henry chuckled and bowed his head for Lou Ann to give his crown a couple gentle strokes.

“Thank you, Madame,” Henry whispered before raising himself up again. He felt a dull ache in his back as he did so, but his smile never faded. It was hard not to smile when the customers showed him as much love as they did, despite him not always being at his best. “Now I don’t mean to rush you but may I ask if any of you have considered a refreshment to start with?”

…..

Heavenly Mille Trifle. A trifle taken to the next level. Rather than pieces of sponge cake, the dessert had a layer of mille crepe cake. The gelatin layer was a rainbow stripe jelly, each color being a distinct flavor.

The dessert was a complex and overwhelming creation. However, the chefs liked the challenge presented to them, eager to show off their skills. Secre liked it for the unique combination of two desserts. And Henry liked it because the delicate and minute details reminded him of the scale models he meticulously put together for school projects.

The Heavenly Mille Trifle was meant to be “as sweet as Elias himself.” Henry was more than pleased to hear that people thought so well of him. He did his best to treat people well, to bring joy to other people’s lives since he’d been born so blessed.

But where the dessert had many layers to what made it incredible, Henry considered his truest self to be a straightforward person. He faced his studies and his job head-on. He dealt with his disability without shame. And he lived each day to the fullest.

What was simple and what was complex, didn’t really matter in the end. So long as Henry put his all into living, he could smile and be proud of who he was becoming.

[fitgothgirl]

Long post incoming, so coloring key points just to help even my own eyes.

I'm pretty high-functioning right now, but I feel so not okay under it all. I'm applying for jobs. I go to the gym. I grocery shop. I clean. But I feel awful.

Being unemployed is making me feel worse the longer it goes - especially with how little I'm even hearing back on all my applications. I just feel so inadequate as a person overall (sucks that capitalism instills such feelings). And I feel guilty for doing anything but applying for jobs, even if I've already applied to a bunch that day; I feel guilty for going to the gym or watching TV or doing anything fun.

I've been wanting to make this pivot to bartending, knowing I would need start as a barback or server and applying as such, but I'm getting so discouraged. The last few days I've gone back to searching/applying for healthcare admin jobs, including front desk which I used to do and swore I wouldn't do again. But if I was already resolved to not WFH for a while by bartending, and I'm not getting anywhere with that, then I may as well not WFH at a day job in something I have experience in. I'm keeping in mind that regardless of my next job, it's all temporary until I get my CPC certification, so there's a light at the end of the (relatively short) tunnel if I end up in something I'm not thrilled with. But I'm now starting to feel silly for thinking about bartending; did I really do the hyperfocus thing again and get too excited over a prospect that I'm not quite capable of yet only for it to leave me wondering what I was thinking afterwards? I was trying to be aware at the time and asking myself if that was what was happening, but I didn't think it was. I honestly have always been interested in bartending, but now this Cointreau and vermouth and bitters and stuff is on our bar counter and I look at it and I just kinda feel like an idiot.

I had been drinking too often as it was before I lost my job but when I got fired it got a lot worse - no days without alcohol for over a month, probably getting drunk close to half the time - and now my stomach has had a sort of sudden change and I'm having problems I've never had before and it's making me nervous; it scared me into suddenly not drinking for 2 days, followed by a day with 1 drink, followed by two more no-alcohol days. Last night I did have a few though, but they kinda just made me feel shitty and I'm motivated to not drink again today. But it's also scary because I don't have fucking health insurance right now until Medi-Cal (Medicaid) approves me, which could still be a couple more weeks (i.e. a total of 6 weeks since I applied). Just gotta do what I can on my own for now. I often overreact about my health though, so fingers crossed this is just that.

It's not lost on me that I'm seeking out bartending yet obviously have periods where I can't seem to control my alcohol. I can't imagine drinking while working a job like that though (plus it's illegal for bartenders to drink on the clock anyway). If it's anything like barista-ing, which I know it is but even crazier/harder, I'd want to be as clear-headed and locked in as possible lol. But I'm not going to sit here and act like it would be an ideal job for someone trying to control their drinking with just being in that environment so often and having the thought it in one's head so much. So idk maybe it's best I just give up on it. I even still wanted to do it parttime on nights/weekends when I got my CPC cert/got a day job (as I was wanting to do before I lost my job), but maybe I shouldn't. But a big reason for bartending was also the good money they can make and I want that to get out of debt. Ugh idkkkkkkk. I guess I could just do serving... If someone would hire me, that is. But ugh all these thoughts are making me feel so mixed up and lost!!

And separate from all this work stuff is the fact that I've been wanting to talk to my bf about some stuff but can't bring myself to do it. The conflict avoidance in me is so strong... And it isn't even necessarily a "conflict," but my brain interprets it as such. It's so hard for me because any time there's been a Talk™️ in my life, it ends up a conflict, and I end up wrong. I end up crying and/or apologizing and/or fawning. Like, I'm not just getting this anxiety out of nowhere, I feel like I've really been taught through life experience that I'm just wrong all the time. Developed by my dad growing up, then my ex did his absolute best to compound & reinforce it. I know I need to "do it scared, do it with your voice shaking, do it with your hands trembling, but do it," or whatever that saying is, because until then I'm being a bad partner by not communicating. It doesn't help that we gel so well that we never fight or get heated because we both feel like so few things are worth getting upset over, so I don't actually have a lot of practice in this area, which is both a good thing and a bad thing obviously. But this is all dumb because I'm not even upset!! This isn't a talk like that!! I want to talk to him because I love him and I want to be open with him about my needs and I want to strengthen our relationship and I want him to be happy & healthy in his own right. I would want him to express his needs or hold me accountable, how can I not do the same for him? Why am I so focused on worst case scenario? Why am I so convinced this will be a negative conversation?? (Oh yeah all that aforementioned past experience stuff lolz. But I need to get over it...)

I just. My heart hurts a lot of the time. I keep ripping up my cuticles. I can't seem to stem the negative self-talk. I miss my therapist but can't get myself to reach out, but I'm also wondering what more she can do for me at this point (which is maybe why she hasn't reached out either?). Little things make me feel inordinately bad about myself, like the hummingbird feeder has been empty for a while, or my plants need watering, or even the fact that I haven't started decorating for Halloween yet, etc. I also feel like I should be doing all of the house chores that come up rather than half, which I don't think is wrong with being unemployed and my bf covering bills, but whenever I do clean it just weighs the reminder on me that I'm jobless and "inadequate." I want to cook for him too but idk why I get so nervous about that; he's a great cook, and when I cook for myself it's good, but imagining cooking for him makes me feel like it's going to be inedible shit for some reason lol...

I don't really know how to end this but I guess I'm done writing for now so... End 🙃