#i also decided to finish this without my glasses so now i can barely see tbh lol

[pricknim]

not even she can stand this heat

[moonstruckme]

tumblr is hiding the request from me :( but here it is, thanks for requesting!

request: Would you be willing to write about(if you havnt already) Remus X a chronic pain having reader(joint pain kinda similar to his but like all over, maybe reader also has to use a cane from time to time) that's SUPER stubborn about their pain and HATES admitting there's anything wrong with them so they don't take pain killers or use their cane unless forced to.

cw: chronic pain, pain meds

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You can’t get lost in your book. The words won’t pull you out of your body the way you need them to, so you’re watching raindrops race down the window instead. You bet on which one will win, sometimes changing your pick halfway through—because, really, you’re the one making the rules anyway—and then starting again from the top of the glass once the last round’s droplets puddle into the sill. 

You’re not sure who’s more miserable lately; you, or the sky. It’s been dull gray and weeping all week, clouds barely moving on cold winds. As if the weather isn’t making you ache enough, you slipped on the wet stairs outside your apartment yesterday and now have a nice, big bruise on your hip to boot. Remus keeps looking at the tinge of it peeking out of your trousers with a pitying little uptilt to his brows that makes you antsy. 

Remus groans as he shifts from his curled-up position next to you on the couch. He stretches his leg out, propping his ankle on the coffee table. You wince. You know he’s feeling this weather as badly as you are in his knees. 

“Alright?” you ask gently. 

He makes a low sound, halfway between a hum and a grunt. “I’ll live.” 

Remus turns his head your way, and you pretend to read your book again as you feel him scan you over. You try not to look too stiff in your own skin. To ease the grimace from your mouth. 

“How about you?” he asks. 

“Fine.” 

“Sure, dovey?” 

You know the endearment is meant to soften you. You look him right in the eyes. “Yeah.” 

He hums, holding your gaze. There’s sympathy in the warm honey brown of his eyes, the sort you can never decide whether to spurn or cling to, as well as a stubbornness to match your own. After a moment, he takes his foot off the table. 

“I’ve changed my mind,” he says, standing. “I’m getting painkillers.” 

You stand, too, fighting past the protests of your joints. “I’ll go.” 

“I’ve got it.” 

“Remus, you’re in pain.” 

You know you’re pushing it—the limits of this lie, that you’re not in just as much if not more pain than he is—and it appears Remus knows it too. Rather than saying it, he only levels you with a look. You sit down. 

Remus doesn’t have to bring the bottle of pain medication back with him after taking his own dose, but he does. He sets it right on the coffee table next to a tub of numbing cream, which he opens before rolling up the leg of his trousers. One at a time, he massages it into his sore knees. 

You pretend to yourself that your own joints don’t feel any worse for thinking of what relief might be like. The words on your page blur past your eyes. 

“Give me your hand, lovely.”

You look at Remus. He’s finished with his knees, but now he holds his hand out for you, a dollop of cream on his fingers. “Hm?” 

Your boyfriend sighs, exasperation coated in fondness. “Don’t. You’re hurting.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“I can see it in your face.” 

You feel yourself frown. “It’s not that bad.” 

“What will it hurt?” His voice gentles. He keeps looking at you, until finally, you extend your hand. 

You know Remus knows how to be gentle with you. He’s good at helping without hurting, touch soothing over your skin and working the cream into every aching crevice. You hold in a sigh. 

“Sometimes,” Remus says in a thoughtful voice, “I catch myself dismissing my pain. And then I look at you, and I think how silly that is.” 

You take the opportunity to watch him while he’s not watching you. He looks peaceful. The furrow between his brows has shallowed, now borne of concentration rather than affliction or worry as he smooths his healing touch over your wrist and works his way up to your elbow. 

“I never want you to just put up with your pain. I don’t know why I do. But thinking about you doing the same thing helps me snap out of it, so,” Remus glances up at you, a tiny smile tugging at his lips, “thank you for that.” 

“Are you saying I’m silly?” You mean to tease, but your voice comes out infused with the sigh you’d held back. You sound tender and lovestruck; more vulnerable than you intended to be. 

“You’re silly when you won’t take care of yourself,” Remus answers unapologetically. “Even sillier when you won’t let me take care of you.” 

“It’s not your job,” you say quietly. 

He frowns. His thumb rubs softly over the tender jut of your elbow. “It’s both of our job.” 

“Thank you, but I don’t feel like I need the help. I manage it fine by myself.” 

“Sweetheart.” Remus looks at you. You’re caught like a fly in his honey trap. “It doesn’t make the pain any more or less real to treat it. You’re only helping it hurt you. It’s not a bad thing to take painkillers when you need them. Or to use your cane.” 

You stiffen at the introduction of a familiar argument. “I don’t need to use it.” 

“I know, lovely. You might not have had your fall yesterday if you had been, though.” 

Your hackles must be visibly raised, because Remus only looks at your face before softening his tone further, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. 

“I only wish you’d let us both look after you a bit better. And I hate to see you hurt.” His touch skims over that sliver of bruise showing above your trousers. “My poor girl.” 

You soften. Maybe it’s the tenderness of his touch, or the quiet ache in his voice, but you find yourself leaning over until your head rests on Remus’ shoulder. He continues massaging cream into your joints, diligent and loving. 

“It’s gotta go both ways,” you say, like you’re negotiating an agreement. 

“Of course it will.”

“You can’t just always be right. You have to listen when I tell you you’re being an idiot, too.” 

You hear more than see his smile. “But I so rarely am.” 

“Trust me,” you mumble, “it happens.” 

Remus chuckles and kisses your head. “Okay, dove. I’ll listen to you.”

[strwbrryeyes]

𖦹°｡⋆ Just an accessory (tsukishima kei x reader)

⟡ request: hiiiii ! i really like all the stuff u write for tsukki and various other haikyuu boys and was wondering how they'd react to u being upset with them ? like maybe the night before they invite u to celebrate a win with their team but barely paid any attention to u all night so u decide to go home early or just end up going separate ways at the end of the celebration ?

⟡ cw: angst, slight comfort at end but mostly angst, lmk if i missed anything

⟡ a/n: this is going to be multiple parts because i don't like writing small drabbles in one thing but i have two other characters in mind for this

Tsukishima would be pissy at first and say you’re overreacting but would feel bad about it eventually

“Okay, what’s your problem?” Tsukishima asks as he barges into the bathroom where you were doing your morning routine.

“What do you mean?” you ask back as you stare at him with a blank expression through the mirror.

“I mean why did you get out of bed without saying anything or even looking at me? Wait no scratch that what was up with you leaving early last night? I left to go get us drinks but by the time I was back you were nowhere to be found and I had to hear from Kyotani that you said you were going home early and that you looked like you were upset!” your boyfriend shouts as you as you finish your routine and after a few seconds of silence you turn to look at him.

“Are you even going to ask why I was upset or looked upset?” you huff out before pushing him out of the doorway “Because right now it just seems like you’re mad I wasn’t there to be your accessory.”

“What the hell are you even talking about- my accessory?”

“Yes, Kei! An accessory!” you shout back at him as you make your way to the kitchen.

“What does that even mean, [name]?” his tone sounds more annoyed with every word.

Setting down a glass cup, you look up at your boyfriend, tears starting to well in your eyes “It means you barely talked to me or included me in any conversation last night,” you sniff out, holding back tears “I felt like I was just there to fill space next to you and not actually there to be with you.”

Tsukishima's eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by the sudden sadness. “What are you talking about? I was celebrating with the team. You know how important the win was.”

“Celebrating with the team while also ignoring me the whole time,” you reply, voice trembling. “I felt like I wasn’t even there, Kei. You spent the entire time talking to only them, and I was just… there.”

He rubs the back of his neck, clearly struggling to understand. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just... I didn’t realize.”

“That’s the problem,” you say, voice softening. “You didn’t realize. You never realize. And it hurts.”

Tsukishima sighs, his frustration turning into anger. “You’re overreacting. It was just one night.”

“Just one night?” you repeat, feeling more hurt. “It’s not just about last night, Kei. It’s about how I feel all the time when we are with other people. It’s like I’m not there and it really hurts.”

His expression is a mix of confusion and irritation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I shouldn’t have to, Kei,” you sigh, wiping away a tear. “I want to be with someone who sees me, who notices when I’m not okay. I want to feel like I matter.”

He rolls his eyes, clearly still annoyed but this time, with himself. “You do matter. I’m sorry, I didn’t think about how you felt. Can we talk about this? Really talk?”

You take a deep breath, looking into his eyes. “Yeah, we can talk. But things need to change, Kei. I can’t keep feeling like this.”

“I understand,” he says, his voice finally coming to a soft tone. “I’ll do better. I promise. Just... don’t leave without telling me what’s wrong next time, okay?”

You nod, feeling a small sense of hope. “Okay. But you have to promise to really try.”

“I promise,” he says softly, pulling you into a hug. “I’m sorry for making you feel like a prop. You’re so much more than that to me.”

You hug him back, hoping that the next time, things have changed.

[emeraldserenade]

Late Night Meeting ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: you only seemed to run into Joaquín at night in the kitchen

tw: fem!reader, limited use of y/n, reader has a RBF, annoying person named Clare (sorry if your name is Clare), barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Whoopsie, I kinda went MIA for a while because I had to drive back home and then I was just decompressing from my trip (there were bed bugs in my hotel and I've been miserable). Anyway, I'm back! My trip to see my friends was great AND I got the email last week that I passed my final chem exam! Anyway, now that I am back I will be focusing on finishing my requests but for the time being I hope you enjoy this.

A special shoutout to @sidkneeeee for wishing me luck on my final! Thank you for always reading, liking, and reblogging my stories as well as your kind words, they are very much appreciated and help me keep my motivation for writing.

➽──────────────❥

You moved into the compound after being recruited for the new Avengers. You had met the only other two here, Sam Wilson and Joaquín Torres. You smiled and shook their hands and expected to be treated the same way you always where. Like you would explode the world if someone even looked at you wrong. You knew you looked intimidating and that you would bite the head off anyone who wronged you. But it wasn't your fault that you have a resting bitch face.

You noticed something peculiar though, while both Sam and Joaquín would treat you like a normal person. You only ever seemed to see Sam around, Joaquín was always off doing something else or you just never heard anything about him. You just guessed that he was scared of you and what you could do, so you thought nothing of it. Until you wandered into the kitchen late one night to find him standing in front of a pot on the stove.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were in here," you muttered and moved to the fridge. You wanted the rest smoothie your smoothie rom earlier.

"Nah, you're good," Joaquín told you, flashing you a smile. You gave him one back and second guessed why he was never around. He didn't seem scared of you but he was also never around. You decided to put it to rest and head back to bed, your smoothie in hand and Joaquín watching you leave.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

After that meeting you seemed to run into him almost every night in the kitchen. You had the bad habit of always needing to drink something before bed and brushing your teeth. You would have to guess that it stemmed from your mom having you drink a glass of water every night before bed. And Joaquín seemed to always be snacking when you walked in.

"What are you snacking on today?" You questioned him, you two had started talking each night.

"I cut up an apple," he hummed and you watched him take a bite.

"Ah, nice," you replied and you two feel into a silence. Not an uncomfortable one, just a silence. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot," Joaquín answered and you took a deep breath.

"Why do you avoid me during the day?" You rushed out but before he could answer, one of the newer recruits walked in. She had only joined a few days ago but she was all over Joaquín when possible.

"Joaquín! There you are!" She practically shrieked and you cringed at her volume. You didn't like her but sucked it up because Sam said she was needed for the team. You took her arrival as reason to leave and downed the rest of your drink before leaving. You shot Joaquín a quick smile, ignoring the glare from the girl, and headed down the hallway.

"What was that yell?" Sam groggily asked from his door when you passed.

"Newbie got real excited when she saw Joaquín," you informed him.

"She has a name," Sam mumbled.

"Eh, don't care at the moment," you gently kicked the ground in annoyance.

"Have a good night, y/n," Sam bid you a good night.

"You too, Sam," you waved gently and started heading down the hall to your room again.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

It was a few weeks in the kitchen without Joaquín, you had to guess that he was spending his nights with the newbie. You had resigned to the fact that you would be alone at night when Joaquín finally showed in the kitchen again.

"Is Clare here?" He looked around frantically and shook your head.

"No, why?" You tilted your head a little at the sigh of relief that he released.

"I've been trying to avoid her for weeks, it's why I haven't been here," he explained and you made a shocked face.

"Joaquín!" You heard the newbie say from the hallway and took his arm, grabbing an apple for him on the way out with your free hand. You dragged him to the closest room, his. You shoved him in the door and he pulled you along with him. You only then realized you forgot your drink, but before you had time to be sad, Joaquín handed it to you.

"I only avoid you during the day because I know if I saw you in daylight, I'd fall irrevocably in love with you," Joaquín told you and you gently gasped while handing him the apple.

"Huh?" You cursed yourself for not being more poetic.

"You asked me a few weeks ago why I avoid you during the day, it's because I know if I were to see you in the daylight. Your face lit and warmed by the sun while you smile and laugh with Sam over some joke, I'd fall in love with you," Joaquín reiterated and you stared at him, the straw of your drink stuck to your bottom lip.

"I'm in love with you," you blurted out and slapped a hand over your mouth in shock. "Wait, that-" Joaquín cut you off by removing your drink from your hand, the straw from where it was attached, kissing you. You melted into it and let out a content sigh.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[lunamochii]

2:04

a/n; i literally wrote this out of spite so please expect grammatical erros and wrong spelling! Don't forget to comment your reactions and feedbacks! Also, pls reblog with tags!!

warnings; mature, smut without plot(or a lil bit of context), mdni

Messing with Sylus is all fun and games until he decides to put you in place and have you remember of who he really is.

"Hm, what's this? Already wet? But I barely did anything yet, kitten."

He got your body press up against the cold glass window that faces that city lights, his long and slender fingers tuck inside your mouth while his other hand is busy pumping your tight cunt

"Weren't you giggling back at the cafe by playfully running your hands around my thighs?"

"It w-was—"

You yelp when he suddenly plunge his fingers back in but this time instead of two, he inserted three fingers

"Uh-uh are you going to say your same pathetic reason again?"

He remove the his fingers that was in your mouth and squeeze your cheeks, tilting your head up so you can meet his gaze

"No! I was gwonna shay thawt— mwore- Sylus!"

He laugh seeing how you couldn't even finish your sentence when he starts to rub your clit with his thumb

"You're so cute, darling. Now, be a good girl and place both of your hands on the window."

You did as what he told and gave you a good hard spank and his name drips out from your lips

"Hmm let me hear more. C'mon...."

Aside from the sound of the running water from his bathtub, the spanking sound echoes throughout the bathroom silencing the other noises

Sylus moans out your name before plunging his cock deep inside you and your thankful that this window doesn't break easily because it is your only support on trying to balance yourself.

He put one of your legs up with you balancing on the tub as he relentlessly bully your wet cunt, his big calloused hands groping your breast and his lips leaving marks all over your shoulder

"So deep! Your cock is so deep inside me, Sy! Give it to me harder, please!"

"I knew you were a fighter."

He smirks and pulled you out from the tub. He made you face the glass window again and in one swift move he got your legs parted. The cool air brushes against your expose cunt making you instinctively close your legs but he got a firm grip

"Don't make unnesecarry movement. Wouldn't want to drop you, not that it would happen though."

He breathes in your scent and moans your name right on to your ear

"Please fuck me... I need your cock inside me, Sy. So bad, please."

"Damn, princess. When did you get so good at begging?"

He got his cock brushing against your cunt and you just want him to put it in

"Just so needy! Please Sy, won't you fuck me?"

"Don't come complaining that you can't walk."

Your nails dug deep on to his arms as he push his big cock in to your pussy, no matter how wet and stretch you are, his cock is always way too big for you. He watch how your boobs bounces and how your eyes droop with your tongue desperately licking your lips

"Face me."

When you did, he shove his tongue into your mouth and he got you moaning through the kiss. One of your hand move to grab on to his hair.

You close your eyes and just let Sylus handle you, you know that he won't let any harm come to you.

"I'm going to cum! Sylus! Fuck fuck!"

"Together!! Take my cock, take it!!"

You both scream each other's name as his cum filled your insides and your juices squirting out from you. Sylus didn't miss the chance and rapidly rub your clit making you cry out as he push one more orgasm from you before setting you down, letting your back once again touches the cold window and eats you out

"Holy shit— s'too much— Sylus!"

"One more— your scent is so addicting..."

He inserted two fingers and thrust it faster and his tongue flicking back and forth on your clit, you keep on moaning out his name and with that you began to ride his face and Sylus began to make choking noises as you push your hips down, both of his hands are now grabbing on to your leg

"Fuck fuck fuck!!"

You bit your lower lip and came undone on to his mouth, he lap your juices and made sure to drink it all. When his done, he place one last kiss on your cunt before standing up and hugging you tight

"Have you learn your lesson, kitten?"

He says softly while rubbing your ass cheeks

"Maybe.."

"Hmm~ such a naughty kitten. Guess, we'll go for more rounds until you understand."

You were about to retort when he stop you by planting a kiss to your lips

"I don't wanna hear more complains from you. Kneel down and clean the mess you made on my dick.

You look down and saw that it's still hard and standing proud. You gulp and slowly got on your knees, his hand resting on your hair grabbing a fistful of it

"Now, be a good kitten and clean my cock."

[teojira]

Ooooh just finished reading your koba drabble and its soooo good??? I would love to hear your thoughts how the other apes, Rocket, Maurice, Ceaser, and Blue eyes, think about Kobas' new human shadow... or the way they squabble 👀 I imagine its a mixed bag XD. Amazing writing as always ❤️

[How the rest of the colony apes react to you and Koba's 'friendship']

Summary: The other apes worry about your sanity.

Warnings: Platonic relationship with Koba (based off of my previous Koba request!)

A/N: First time writing for Maurice, Rocket and Blue eyes!!! I was so excited to see them included here 😭 I hope you enjoy anon!

Caesar:

He's already warned Koba multiple times to not take things too far, that just because you've decided that you want to follow him around, doesn't mean he can mistreat you.

Keeps a close eye on y'all when in vicinity, but he knows Koba better than others do.

Koba can claim he hates you as much as he does, but he hasn't done anything to truly drive you away, he could hurt you, bite into you with his canines and do damage but at most, he growls and tries to swat you away like a fly.

Koba also in the same vein will follow you around when you're off doing your own thing, especially if you decide to leave the colony on your own.

He's not slick, telling Caesar that he's off to rest.

Caesar literally sees Koba climbing trees to trail you. It's amusing just how much the bonobo is denial that he cares for you.

It's obvious to Caesar that a part of Koba enjoys the attention, and enjoys your company despite everything, so he doesn't interfere.

Maurice:

Actively tells you to leave Koba alone, he's genuinely not about the whole idea of you and Koba being together.

It gives him anxiety, he's not your father, he's not your family but he's concerned.

He'll talk to Caesar about it, trying to get him to put a stop to it but alas, Caesar says you're both adults, he can't control who you spend time with.

He agrees of course, and while yes Koba does show some semblance of...care for you, it doesn't change his mind.

Please you're stressing him out, give him a break and eat dinner with him and the children instead.

Koba is threatening to bite your fingers off for touching his berries and Maurice genuinely cannot tell if it's a valid threat or not.

Rocket:

Rocket doesn't include himself into the situation, but is another worrier deep down, he's a father, he can't help it.

I see him as the laid back chill uncle who's like 'Hey, do what you want to do but be careful.'

He'd had to step in a couple of times when he thinks Koba is genuinely out to harm you, hooting and calling for Caesar. This ends in him and Koba squaring off against one another and you frantically telling Rocket that you're fine.

By now he doesn't interfere, but he does keep an eye out, always fighting the urge to grab you and take you away from Koba.

Tries to offer you to spend more time with his previous wives, Ash or himself.

Blue eyes:

Blue eyes and you are kinda in the same boat, despite Koba's faults, Blue eyes does look up to his father's close friend.

Koba would never hurt Blue eyes, not without great repercussions, but he could hurt you, the tiny human that has no defensive measures against a huge bonobo, so forgive Blue if he's a little nervous at you pestering Koba.

The young chimp makes sure to check in with you after your random little fights with Koba, it doesn't matter how many times you tell him it's all in good fun, he will make sure you're okay.

He's worried, okay, he gets it from his father, Caesar has told him just how fragile humans are, how their feelings are easily hurt, it makes him treat you damn near like glass.

Side eyes you everytime you go to Koba's nest to mess with him.

Ash will try and make bets with how long it'll be til Koba tries and kills you as a joke, only for Blue eyes to choke on his spit and tell him off, baring his teeth and jostling his friend around.

"Do not make fun!" The young chimp signs frantically.

[sssammich]

day 2: romance

you can also read the fic on ao3

the rest of sctober prompts: crepe AU: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 day 19: hazy, day 22: art, day 24: enchanted, day 30: magic

--

Now, here's the thing. Lena is a reasonable woman. She's a woman of many, many means and has more money that even God knows what to do with. So she doesn't expect much, save, perhaps, for some respect and authenticity. 

But even that seems like asking for a lot tonight. Especially when she peers over her wine glass over at her date in front of her—a man who sounded perfect on paper (which, in retrospect, was probably where this slow demise of a date began): great job, good looks, decent upbringing—and knows there's clearly been a miscommunication of sorts.

His nervous energy, she can understand. His overcompensation, even more so. Yet that manifests in rude manners as he interrupts her, arrogance in not-so-subtly considering her position as a CEO, and his tired misogyny in his expectations of what his paying for dinner truly affords him.

So she waits for him to finish talking, as he's monopolized the last ten minutes talking about some financial tech start-up for fish or something or the other. He FINALLY glances at her, flashes what she can only assume is his most winning smile. Which is the only thing she was waiting for, frankly, before she scoots her chair back and subtly waves at a server who already seems to have her coat at the ready.

"Whoa-wait, where are you going? They’ve barely served us the apps."

She smiles down at him, though her eyes are sharp and narrowed. "Riveting as you may think it is to listen to you, I'm going home and having a very lovely evening with my vibrator. I believe I'll have a much more fulfilling time with it than with you."

His jaw drops slightly, sputtering out sorry excuses for words, his face going through a roller coaster journey of expressions—a considerable improvement from the smarmy smile he'd been presenting her since she first saw him. She can even see how his cheeks and ears redden at her comment, could have possibly considered it cute if he was even an ounce less of who he was. The look on his face is almost worth the stress of what little of this dinner has already cost her sanity and time. She turns to the server beside her just as he helps her shrug on her coat, his face the poster of professional decorum, except for the slight twitch from the corner of his lips that betrays him slightly. 

And just because she can, Lena rummages through her clutch and pulls out a few hundred dollar bills, where she throws a couple on the table and rolls one to insert in the server’s breast pocket. 

She leaves without a single glance back despite feeling all eyes on her.

When she exits out of the restaurant, her driver is already waiting for her at the front. She takes a deep breath and exhales before walking up to him and dismissing him for the night, telling him that she’ll find her way back just fine. She walks away with a final greeting and heads towards the direction of the park.

Lena reaches the edge of the park where she finds a slew of food trucks lining the curb. Most of them have some customers in line waiting except for the bright yellow one parked at the very end. Typically, Lena would hesitate approaching a food truck without customers as that is surely cause for concern. Yet the name ‘Love is Crepe’ seems to call to her, perhaps fitting of the night she’d just endured. 

She stands just to the side of the awning with a gaze towards the menu, determining if she should treat herself to both sweet and savory crepes. She decides she deserves to indulge herself. 

Yet when she walks up to the front counter, she realizes there’s a handwritten sign that notes: 

SOLD OUT 

THANKS AND SORRY :( 

-crepe mgmt

She can’t help the amused smile on her face even if she finds herself disappointed in not getting any crepes, after all. She’s just about to turn around when she jumps at the sound of someone yelping in surprise behind her. 

“Oh!” 

She turns around and stops in her tracks when she finds the most attractive woman she’s ever laid eyes on carrying three different bags of food from what appears to be the other food trucks. It takes her a second to process that she should speak, yet her eyes can’t help but glance at the blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, the sharp jaw, the perfect curved lips, and the blue of the woman’s eyes behind black rimmed glasses. Her gaze dips to the womans’ biceps, the t-shirt sleeves folded up to her shoulders, straining slightly under the weight of the bags she’s carrying. 

Lena clears her throat. “I—I thought you were open, but I see you’d sold out of everything.” 

Despite being the one to have been caught surprised, it’s the blonde woman who’s standing stock still in front of her, surprise slapped on her face. “You’re Lena Luthor.” 

This time, it’s her turn to be shocked. “Oh, um, yes.” 

The woman shakes her head and quickly drops the bags on one of the tables parked right in front of the truck. “Oh my golly, I’m so sorry, that’s—well that was very impolite of me. I’ve just–I’m a big fan. I, wait-no. I mean, I am. I totally am, but like, you’re you, I mean—hang on. Um, wait.” The woman then puts her hands on her waist, and positions her body so she’s properly facing Lena before taking a deep breath. “You want crepes?” 

Lena’s brows furrow in amused confusion even as she slowly nods. Something about the way this woman stumbles through her words and her movements has Lena endeared, and so she responds, a slow smile already forming on her lips. “Yes, but I see you’re sold out.” 

“Oh, right. I am, but I—” the woman pauses and puts a finger up, a frenetic energy about her, before rushing to the back of the truck. Lena hears rummaging and movement, until the woman pops her head out of the front window, crumpling the piece of paper notice as she slides the window to the side. “I can—I can make you one crepe. Like a malnourished crepe because it won’t have as many strawberries or Nutella, but I can make it. Do you still want it?” 

She’s poised to decline, not wanting to interrupt this woman’s night, but the expectant and almost eager way the woman is staring down at her from the window, hopeful and anticipating, has Lena nodding her head before she can even gather her wits about her. 

The woman is overjoyed, so Lena believes she’d given the right answer. Something warm buzzes inside of Lena when she witnesses the woman’s bright smile before she disappears from the window. 

Lena takes a seat right by where the woman’s food is, a small frown forming when she realizes she’s more than likely interrupted this woman’s dinner. Yet, the woman seems more than happy to work in her truck, so with hesitant resignation, Lena just waits. 

Before long, the woman comes out and personally puts her plate right in front of her with a set of plastic utensils wrapped in a napkin. “You didn’t have to do that,” she comments, even as her mouth salivates at the smell of the dish in front of her. 

“It was no trouble at all.” Then the woman’s eyes widened. “Oh, unless you wanted it to go. Oh man, I didn’t even ask. Did you—” 

But Lena just shakes her head. “Here’s fine.” 

The woman beams at her, and Lena briefly wonders how it feels for people in this woman's life to constantly be on the receiving end of such a bright and warm smile. Lena’s frown forms as she watches as the woman then takes her bag of food off the table. 

“Won’t you join me? Since I so rudely interrupted your dinner.” 

“But you’re Lena Luthor.”  

She smiles at that. “And you are?” 

The woman’s mouth opens, shock evident on her face, before it transforms into a smile. “Kara. You can call me Kara.” 

“Well, Kara. Won’t you join me?” 

There’s the smile again as Kara wordlessly nods, and sits herself directly across from Lena. She waits until Kara empties out all of the food from her takeout bags, the spread fully taking over the table they’re sitting on. Kara nudges the containers her way, prompting Lena to quirk a brow. 

“Please help yourself.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely.” 

She responds with a smile in kind and digs into her crepe, enjoying the flavors of her sweet crepe. “This is really quite delicious,” she offers, meaning every word. 

Kara shyly ducks her head even as she smiles proudly. “Thanks! It was slow going for a while, but my friend Nia mentioned that I should put myself in the videos so they could connect with me and not just the crepes. So I guess they’ve been able to see that I really care about the food I make and the videos have been going viral.”  

Lena tilts her head in observation, thinks to herself, I don’t think it’s just the crepes they’re looking at.  

Suddenly, Kara’s mouth drops and her cheeks redden. Belatedly, and much to Lena’s horror, she realizes that she’s said her thoughts out loud. This time, it’s her turn to cover her face. “Oh god, I’m sorry. That was—” 

“Thank you, Lena.” 

“You dropped the Luthor.” 

“I realized I’d said it twice already, I feel like I’ve hit my quota of full naming you for the day.” 

She laughs at that, though a sense of self-deprecation leaks out despite her best attempts.  “Thank you for not shunning me away even knowing who I am.” 

A crinkle of concern appears between Kara’s brows and Lena wonders, not for the last time that evening, how it feels to see that regularly. 

“The only Lena Luthor I know is the one who has tirelessly made the Children’s Hospital the best one in the country so my niece Esme can get the care that she needs. So, I’d say you’re the last person I’d shun away.” 

Kara’s stares at her intently, gratitude written all over her face. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” is all Lena says, not wanting to overstep by asking more questions. She and Kara are basically strangers, and she wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable. 

“Besides, who shuns away pretty ladies?” Kara says with a shrug before popping an entire potsticker in her mouth. The two of them sport identical rosy cheeks when Lena catches up to Kara’s words just as Kara seems to realize exactly what she’d said. 

“Well, thank you, Kara.” 

Kara tilts her head and smiles, making a show of swallowing the potsticker that Lena giggles at, and shifting her glasses back up on her face. “Anytime, Lena.” 

She can’t help but compare the woman in front of her to the man who’d attempted to wine and dine her earlier tonight. How their eyes shared the same shade of blue, yet Lena thinks she’d happily lose herself in staring at Kara as she listens to the other woman talk about food.

She does just that when they spend the rest of their time in companionable conversation, Kara urging her to try the dishes that litter their table. Before long, the first hour rolls into one, then two, until she glances up and finds that the other food trucks are beginning to break down for the night. 

“Oh, I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time,” she says when she wraps her coat tightly around her. “You now have to stay longer to clean up.” 

But Kara waves her off just as she finishes cleaning. “No! Please! You’re the one all dressed up tonight. I hope I wasn’t keeping you from anything.” 

“God, no. If anything you were saving me.” 

Lena thinks she notices Kara standing up a bit taller. “Bad date?” 

“Terrible. Perhaps romance is simply not in the cards for me.” 

“I don’t believe that,” Kara says, with a shake of her head. “You’re too amazing to not find someone who’ll appreciate you for who you are, Lena Luthor.” 

“Careful, you’ve exceeded your full naming quota.” 

“Forgive me just this once?” Kara bows her head slightly, a teasing smile on her face.

“Only if you take this.” Lena then proceeds to take out a couple hundred dollar bills and tries to offer it to Kara. But Kara covers her hand and closes it for her, the bills clutched in her fist. She is now fully aware of the warmth of Kara’s hand on top of hers, the softness of it on her skin. Now that she knows this, she’s not sure she can go back to not knowing. To not knowing who Kara is, really.

“Absolutely not! Tonight’s on me. Plus, that was not a true trademark Love is Crepe crepe, okay? I can totally do better. No, I will totally do better!” 

“Is that so?” 

“Yes! Why don’t you come back tomorrow, and I’ll prove it to you.” 

Lena’s heart flutters at the idea of seeing Kara again. “I suppose I can settle for that.” 

“Good, it’s settled. So see you tomorrow?” 

“See you then.”  

She doesn’t linger for too much longer, hailing a cab and staring out the window until a waving Kara disappears from view. 

When she gets home, Lena opens her phone and calls her best friend.

“Oh, Sam. I think I’m in love.” 

“The date went well?” Sam asks incredulously from the other end of the line. 

“Oh god, no. The date was a disaster, I never wanna see that guy ever again.” 

Sam laughs. “Okay, then if not him, who? Start from the top, babe. What’s his name?” 

Lena closes her eyes, images of Kara’s beauty filling her mind. Of their dinner together, of the meandering and rich conversation they had tonight. Of the way Kara laughed with her whole body, and smiled with her whole face. 

“Well,” she begins, unable to wipe the large excited smile on her own face. “Her name is Kara.” 

[sumtheamazinglysickauthor]

My Medicine - A Xyx Fanfic

"Achoo!” The sneeze came right out of you as you sniffled for a few minutes. Your nose was blocked and was it just you or was it really cold in here? You were so exhausted, too.

“Love, guess who’s back from work~” You hear your husband call out. You’d usually get up and run to him, but you didn’t have the energy. Still, didn’t mean you wouldn’t try. You got up, barely, and put a blanket over your body then proceeded to try to walk outside of your room.

“Doll?” Xyx’s eyes had a hint of worry in them, “You alright?”

“Oh- Yeah! I’m fi-” several coughs come out before you can even finish your sentence. Xyx rushes to your side, checking your temperature

“Oh baby. Looks like someone’s caught a cold.” He says, “And she decided to start walking around instead of resting in her bed.

“Hey! Forgive me for wanting to see my husband. Hmph.” You say, but not without some more coughs coming out of you.

Xyx lets out a chuckle, “You’re forgiven. If you wanted to see me, you could’ve just texted so. Would’ve saved me from an awfully boring meeting with a client, for a day at least. I know you always miss my sexy face.”

“Forget I said anything.”

Before you could say anything else, Xyx starts carrying you, taking you to bed.

“W-What are you doing?”

“Don’t act like we’ve never done something like this, love” He smirks.

You felt the sheets behind you as Xyx gently places you on the bed. You knew you were blushing. You also knew why you started feeling a little warm.

“Now, you stay there alright? I’ll be right back.” he leaves and you watch, wishing you could just grab his hand and ask him to stay. You wanted to ask him to hold you tight, kiss you, and tell him that you didn’t need anything else. If only it was just the sickness talking. It definitely wasn’t.

A few moments go by and you groan, wondering where Xyx is. It felt like it had been hours since he left. How come he gets to go away like that when he just came back? Unfair.

Unfair is just another type of fair you remember Xyx say. You smile thinking of the video calls you guys have had. You’ve come so far from that.

You feel something fluffy under you. You looked and found Cat beneath your blanket. You slowly sit up, bringing them to your lap and petting them. They used their paws to push you down a bit, as if they know you’re sick and are trying to tell you to lie down. You do as told because why wouldn’t you? Cat was too cute for you to say no to anything. You giggle thinking of the time Xyx said Cat was just some stray

“And what’re you laughin’ about?” you see your husband at the doorway, carrying a tray with soup, some medicine, and a glass of water to you. You sit up again and smile.

“Just this lil thing called nunya” you manage to say.

“You dag.” He snickers, before walking towards you and placing the tray on the nightstand, “Drink this and take the medicine.”

“Are you trying to poison your own wife” you dramatically gasp. The sickness was really taking over you. “How could you do such a thing! And I thought you loved me.”

“Oh, m’lady… My deepest, most sincere apologies for not being clearer. For this isn’t poison, but a cure for your deadly disease” Xyx plays along, making you giggle.

“Aren’t you allergic to sincerity?” you raise a brow.

“You’re right. What sort of spell did you cast on me then?”

“Are you calling me a witch?”

“You have some serious gall to accuse me of such a crime. Where’s your testimony? Your evidence?”

You glare at him before smirking and blowing a kiss.

The man is a bit flustered at first, but gives you a smug look. He leans in for a kiss, but your index finger stops him from doing so.

“Nuh uh. I’m not gonna get you sick too.”

“I’m not gonna get sick from a kiss, doll.”

“We will literally share–” you pause from a moment, blushing a bit, “y-you know… And that means we’ll be sharing germs and bacteria and that’ll make you sick and–” before you finish your sentence, Xyx grabs the hand that stopped him from giving you a smooch.

“What a travesty.” he says before cupping your face and kissing you. It was warm and nice and you didn’t want to end it. You knew you should’ve because Xyx would have a chance of getting catching the same cold, but could anyone blame you? How were you supposed to pull away when he was this addicting.

When the two of you finally pulled away to breathe, you looked at him with a pout. “Okay, now you’re probably going to get sick and it’ll be all my fault.”

“I wouldn’t mind chucking a sickie for you, doll,” he winks, “and don’t blame me when you’re the one who blew me a kiss. It was bad enough that I already wanted to kiss you.”

You felt warm at the confession. Xyx being your husband didn’t make things any easier. You could never get used to the things he says.

“Now, love, drink the soup before it gets cold. Or I could always make you drink it… I have my ways.” his voice was deeper now, and you just gulped.

“Okay okay! I’m drinking it- Sheesh.”

You took the soup from the nightstand, taking a sip of it. It tasted warm and amazing. You recognized it to be your favorite and smiled before taking the medicine and drinking the water. Honestly, what would you do without Xyx?

“Thank you…” you clear your throat, “for this. It’s really helping with my throat.”

Xyx smiled at you, “Well I am your hero, babe.”

“Oh my knight in shining armor! How can I ever repay you?”

“I can think of a few ways…”

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your grin, “I take it back. I don’t need to repay you.”

“Well, too bad there are no takebacks then.” he grins.

“Whatever. I’m tired. Get in bed, I want cuddles.”

Xyx chuckles, “So demanding, aren’t you?”

“Oh don’t act like you never are.”

“Can’t recall.”

“Xyx, please” you whine.

“Fine. Since you said please so sweetly.”

He lays next to you and you immediately hug him. Cat was now sleeping on one of your legs, but you carefully put the other onto Xyx. The two of you look at Cat, who seemed peaceful at the moment, before looking back at eachother. Honestly, you felt cured.

“Are you sure you’re not my medicine? I seem to be feeling better already.” you look into his deep emerald eyes.

“Is that so? Should I get closer to you then maybe?”

“Maybe you should.”

His laugh is soft and warm. It was so cozy. It felt like… home. You could stay like this forever and never leave.

“I love you, Xyx” you confess, like you have a million other times.

“I love you too, doll” his voice is deep and so sincere you could never doubt it.

You are my medicine

[bella-rose29]

Reminders of her - George Karim x gn!reader

requested by anon: George Karim x reader (established relationship) where one of the Visitors they have to seal is the reader’s dead mom or sister or father (whichever you want)

I am so so sorry that this has taken me forever to write, I have been swamped with assignments and work and then a period of no imagination whatsoever, so I'm very sorry about that anon! I also had no clue how to end it so sorry about that too

I tried to make this gn (since no gender was specified), but there may be a slip up or two so I'm sorry if there is <3

Hopefully this is roughly what you wanted anon!

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentions of character death (reader's mother) and dealing with grief, mentions of cancer (non-specific, but it's not aggressive).

Tag list: idk who wants to be tagged for George tbh (let me know if you do!) <3

(not my gif)

The inhabitants of 35 Portland Row were all relaxing in their various rooms when the doorbell sounded, startling everyone.

Lockwood hurried to the door, trying his best to not look too disgruntled in front of a possible client, but when he pulled the door open to see Y/n he gave up trying to rub the tea stain off the bottom of his shirt.

"Oh, hi. Everything alright?" They didn't say anything, head dipped so that Lockwood couldn't see their face, but when he heard the slight sniffles coming from Y/n he ushered them inside, immediately calling for George. Lockwood wasn't the best at dealing with people crying, and he'd had to learn for his job, but given Y/n was George's partner he figured he had a free pass this time. The boy in question came thundering down the stairs barely a minute later, pulling his jeans all the way up as he did so and fastening his belt before bringing Y/n into a crushing hug. Lucy appeared at the top of the stairs, peering at the scene in front of her, and when she saw her best friend crying she hurried into the kitchen to start making tea. Lockwood was left to stand awkwardly to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets while George comforted his partner.

"What's wrong, Y/n/n?" George asked, pulling back slightly to wipe away their tears. They sniffled a little bit, small sobs still breaking through as their chest heaved, trying to get the words out.

"It's- it's my mum," they broke off into tears again, hiding their face in George's t-shirt. "She- she's, uh... I need your help," they finished in a whisper, turning to look at Lockwood, and suddenly everything made sense.

"Where is she?" Lockwood asked softly, making eye contact with George. The two boys led Y/n into the kitchen, sitting them down at the table and providing a plate of biscuits (George was a compete hypocrite about the biscuit rule when it came to his partner). Lucy brought over a cup of tea, placing it down in front of Y/n with a small smile.

"Sort of just... everywhere. In the whole house. I don't know why she's only just turning up now, she's been dead for eight months."

"It doesn't always make sense," George said, pushing his glasses up. "We can come over tonight if you like, right Lockwood?"

The company head nodded, sympathetic smile on his face when Y/n looked his way, and Lucy murmured her agreement.

"That's decided then. We'll come over tonight and try and put her to rest completely, yeah?" Lockwood declared, and Y/n nodded, wiping the last of their tears away.

"Yeah, alright. Thank you."

~~~

That night, just before sunset, the four of them headed over to Y/n's house (the members of Lockwood and Co had refused to let them go back, insisting that they stayed until they were properly cheered up), kit bags slung over shoulders and rapiers at their hips. Y/n went without, having barely any Talent, clutching the silver rod that George had gifted them as a defence. Lucy and Lockwood strode ahead, George hanging back with Y/n as they dawdled.

"You alright?"

"I don't really know. I mean, she died of cancer, so that shouldn't really mean that she comes back as a Visitor, right? She died in her sleep, peacefully, and spent her last couple of months seemingly happy."

George was quiet for a while, debating what to say. He often had a habit of putting his foot in it, being the socially awkward person that he was, and dating Y/n had meant that he'd found himself thinking before he spoke much more. At first, he'd barely spoken to them when it was just the two of them, being too scared that he'd say something wrong and never see them again, but when they'd admitted that his blunt attitude was one of the things they most adored about him, he'd opened up more. Still, in situations like this a little thinking was required, especially since his partner's dead mother coming back as a ghost was the topic of conversation.

"Generally, Visitors seem to come back for unfinished business. Maybe she just wants to say good bye?"

"She had months for that though." Y/n was worrying their bottom lip in their teeth, a habit that had become more frequent since their mother's death.

"I really don't know, Y/n/n. Once we're there, though, I'm sure I will," he said, offering a small smile as they turned down their street. Y/n tried a smile of their own, but the worry was still there, growing with every step closer to their house the agents got.

"Come on you two, we're losing time!" Lockwood called, and George rolled his eyes.

"Ignore him. Those two can do without us for a bit if they need to. You alright? You're looking a bit pale."

"I- I'm fine, Georgie. I'm just... not really looking forward to this."

"I get it. Hey," he called, brushing his hand against Y/n's. "We'll sort it, yeah?" He linked their hands, and Y/n smiled properly, the action lighting up their face.

"Yeah. Thank you, George," they replied earnestly, planting a kiss on his cheek.

~~~

Y/n was worried.

It had been an hour since Lockwood, Lucy and George had set up, and while Y/n stayed in the kitchen, surrounded by the defences and armed with the silver that George had handed over earlier ("Just in case," he'd said, no hint of humour in his expression), the three agents had been eerily silent. They'd heard the creak of an occasional floorboard, and a whisper of voices from the living, but aside from that anybody observing the situation would think that Y/n was alone in the house.

They had zoned out a few minutes ago, getting bored of standing and waiting with nothing to do, when suddenly a figure appeared in the doorway.

"Mum?"

Their voice was shaking, damn it. Y/n had promised that they wouldn't get too scared, but the possibility of seeing their mother (and the further chance that their mother would try and attack them) was terrifying.

The figure crept closer, glowing faintly, and Y/n held their breath. It stopped just inside the doorway, and distantly Y/n heard themselves calling for George. Everything else was a haze. Time seemed to stop as the two of them observed each other, and while Y/n could feel a chill creeping up, the warmth they felt at seeing their mother's face again made it seem insubstantial. The trance was broken when Y/n was shoved to the floor, George landing on top as Lockwood and Lucy fought back against the now violent ghost of Y/n's mother.

"Are you alright? Y/n? Y/N?"

"Stop shouting! I'm fine," they huffed, unsure why George seemed so panicked.

"You were very nearly permanently ghost-locked, idiot!" Y/n's eyes widened.

"W-what? But I was fine! I didn't- I didn't think I was there for that long, was I?"

"Maybe, maybe not, but when we came in you were glazing over. I tried calling out to you but you weren't responding."

"Oh, so that's why you rugby tackled me to the floor." George leapt into action again at that, pushing up and offering a hand out to Y/n. Lockwood and Lucy had found the Source, and now the agency head stood with a small object wrapped in a silver net. "Is that... is that her?" Lockwood nodded.

"A comb, of all things. Luce says it was her favourite?"

"The one with the fake pearls in it?" Y/n asked, unable to tear their eyes off of the object.

"Yeah, looked like it. She um, she showed me something else," Lucy spoke, a little tentative. Y/n gestured for Lucy to continue, and the girl lead the two of them upstairs to their parents' bedroom. "There was a moment when she uh, she pointed to this drawer. There was a letter inside, addressed to you. I think she wrote it for you, and wanted you to have it. Did you know about it?"

Y/n shook their head. "No. I had no idea." Carefully they opened the drawer and lifted out the envelope inside, trying desperately to hold back the tears at seeing their mother's handwriting.

"Do you... do you wanna read it now? Because I can give you some space if you do," Lucy asked gently, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder.

"Please, thanks Lucy." The girl wrapped them in a hug, tight and crushing, and when she pulled away she wiped the tears off of Y/n's cheeks.

"We'll be in the kitchen if you need anything, alright?" Y/n nodded, sitting down on the bed when Lucy had shut the door behind her with a soft click and opening the letter.

~~~

A short while later a knock sounded on the door, and George's messy curls poked in, followed by the rest of his body. "Hey, how are you doing?" He came over and sat down next to them, placing an arm around their shoulders and bringing them in for a slightly awkward hug.

"I'm okay. I think," Y/n frowned.

"What... what did the letter say?"

"Just about how much she loves me, and how proud she is of me. It's funny, it doesn't feel like she's gone a lot of the time, but every now and then I'll see something that makes me think of her and I just... I have to stop myself from breaking down." They paused for a moment. "The paper smells like her. It's nice to have this, as a reminder of her."

George didn't say anything, instead just stroking their back, and they were glad for the comfort. He might have a tendency to say the wrong thing sometimes, or accidentally offend people, but George was a damn good partner, and Y/n was glad that he was there to help them.

The two of them headed downstairs a few minutes later, finding Lockwood and Lucy arguing about what the best kind of biscuit was over cups of freshly made tea. George joined the argument, gesturing wildly as he fought for his biscuit of choice, and Y/n could only chuckle slightly at their partner's antics. They gladly accepted the mug of tea that Lucy pushed their way, and smiled at the three agents gathered in their kitchen.

Their mother might be gone, leaving a hole in Y/n's heart, but these three people in front of them were just what was needed to fill it.

[angeliqueiguess]

kitchen nightmares (s.jn)

007 extra hours w.count:995

warnings:swearing, hyuck being an asshole and yn being a baby

Overtime had officially begun. Her friends had all left, leaving her alone with Johnny, who was still in the kitchen. Not that it bothered her… well, maybe a little. And now more, knowing they’d be alone for the next two and a half hours.

The last customers were gone, but they’d left the tables a complete mess. Y/n sighed, starting to clean the first table, muttering to herself about Mark and how, thanks to him, she’d bumped into him and shattered all those damn glasses and…

“Does the table owe you money or something?” Johnny’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts, making her turn around, confused.

“What?”

“I’m asking if the table owes you money,” Johnny repeated, watching her with a barely-there smirk. “I mean, with the way you’re scrubbing it. Just because you don’t like the job doesn’t mean you have to do it halfway.”

“I do like my job,” she replied, a bit defensive.

“Oh, really? Tell that to your face sweetheart,” Johnny said dryly, turning back to the kitchen. Y/n rolled her eyes, a little annoyed, but also… why did she kind of like the way he talked to her? Was she going crazy?

Half a hour later, Y/n came back inside after bringing in the last few chairs from outside, only to bump into Johnny again.

“Who told you to bring those in?” he asked, frowning, arms crossed. She couldn’t help but notice his forearms, covered with a few band-aids from kitchen burns. “I asked you a question, Park.”

“Nobody. I brought them in so you wouldn’t have to… Plus, you were cleaning the kitchen,” she replied, trying to sound confident, even though she felt a bit nervous.

“If nobody asked you, then you don’t need to do it,” Johnny replied, his voice serious with a hint of dry amusement. “Or what, you wanted a prize for it?”

Y/n took a deep breath, biting her tongue to keep from snapping back. She decided to ignore his tone, keep cleaning, and focus on finishing quickly. But Johnny didn’t seem on the same page. A few minutes later, he was back, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, with a look of impatience.

“Are you planning to stay here all night?” he said bluntly. “At this rate, that’s what it’s gonna take.”

Y/n blinked, trying to keep calm.

“Well, I will if you keep distracting me, cook,” she said with a forced smile, resuming her cleaning.

He rolled his eyes and stepped over to the table she was cleaning, pushing her aside without asking and grabbing the cloth.

“Let me do it. This’ll take a year if you keep going like that,” he muttered, not even looking at her. ''And it's Johnny, not cook''

She folded her arms, half-irritated.

“Thanks, Johnny”

“I’m not doing it to help you,” Johnny said, wiping down the table briskly. “I’m doing it so I can get out of here before sunrise. Next time you break something, I’d honestly rather leave you to close yourself.”

“Oh, how thoughtful of you!” she shot back, trying to sound less annoyed than she actually was.

Johnny let out a brief, dry laugh.

“Call it whatever you want. Just don’t go messing with things if you don’t know what you’re doing. Saves me time and less hassle.”

Y/n sighed and went to the front to rearrange the last chairs. As much as his cold, sarcastic comments got under her skin, there was something about them that made her feel weirdly nervous… but she wasn’t going to let him see that. When she returned, he’d already finished cleaning the last table and was putting away the rags, barely glancing her way.

When he finally noticed her back, he sighed impatiently.

“You done?” he asked, almost disinterested, heading towards the back where the lockers were.

“Yeah, we’re done,” she replied, arms crossed, her irritation clear.

Johnny shrugged and opened his locker, giving her one last, impassive look.

“Get your stuff before I change my mind and leave you to clean up tomorrow morning.”

As Y/n slipped off her apron and tucked it into her bag, she could feel Johnny’s gaze fixed on her back. So this is what it feels like? she thought, a little intrigued. She turned around, and sure enough, there he was, already wearing his jacket and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Mind not staring at me?” she said, feigning a bit of irritation.

“Now you know how it feels,” he replied, his tone flat as he pushed himself off the wall. Y/n noticed the clink of the restaurant keys in his hand.

They headed toward the front door, which Johnny opened without a second glance, stepping out first. Y/n sighed heavily and followed him.

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, waiting while he locked up.

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, focused on the keys as he turned away and started walking in the opposite direction, toward the bus stops.

For a second, she thought about offering him a ride, but she was 80% sure he’d just keep walking without a word. And that other 20%? He’d probably just throw in some sarcastic response before heading off anyway. Shaking off the idea, she made her way to her car.

Inside, she started the engine but didn’t drive off right away. She sat there, lost in thought, wondering why she felt this strange pull toward him. Johnny did nothing but give her cold looks and make comments that drove her up the wall… yet there was something about him, something in the way he looked at her, that kept her thinking. With a small shake of her head, she pushed those thoughts aside, shifted into reverse, and finally headed home.

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taglist: @thegracerammy @neocupidd @pjsteroid @peterm4rker (lemme know it you'd like to be tagged <3)

[universallyrunawaypuppy]

Piece of glass

(you can also find my stories on Wattpad)

(WARNING: NSWF, MINORS ARE NOT WELCOME)

-pet names, praising, relationship Konig, softDom Konig- 

1,6K words

It was the first 3 days Konig spent with you since he arrived from his mission; it had been a difficult mission so he would be able to stay at home more than usual.  You had gone 3 months without seeing him and being still in your honeymoon phase, Konig missed no opportunity to show you how much he missed you. 

The first two days you were not able to get out of bed, on the third day, however, you had decided to take a "break" even though you were not sure you could hold out. It was late afternoon, you wanted to have a movie night, having always been a lover of vintage and movies you couldn't help but watch it on DVD; however, before the movie started, you decided to make something to eat and while Konig was sitting on the couch waiting for you under the covers, you were popping popcorn in the microwave, in the meantime you came up with an idea that would lead to a consequence you wouldn't mind: red wine. 

The two of you were of the opinion that opening a bottle of red wine didn't require a special occasion or being fancy, in fact as you were trying to reach for the glasses on tiptoe, your shorts were slipping down showing the elastic of your bow-tied panties, and certainly, the tank top you were wearing didn't help to buy you any better. With your hand outstretched upward and on tiptoe you managed to touch the edge of the glass and tried to bring your fingertips closer to the rim for an easier grip, but just as you were about to reach for it konig came into the kitchen "Hey Honey, all-" he didn't have time to finish the sentence that you gasped in fright and the crystal glass slipped to the floor breaking into a thousand pieces, and as icing on the cake the microwave began to beep making you gasp even more.

Konig immediately came to your rescue "bunny, are you hurt? you are barefoot, let me give you a hand" he said taking you by the hips without any effort and moving you to the part of the floor without glasses "love you shouldn't go around without slippers, you could really hurt yourself" he said holding you by the forearms, although you were not listening to him at that moment busy thinking about his big hands that were holding you up. You were getting wet again and he wasn't doing anything provocative. When he went to retrieve a broom you bent down on your knees and began picking up the larger pieces of glass with your bare hands. On the way back konig found you with your hand full of crystal pieces and scolded you "you must listen to me when I speak, I say this for your own good baby, I don't want you to get hurt." He said as he gently removed the crystal pieces from your palm and threw them in the trash. "get up" he said in his usual cold tone. he was not angry, just annoyed that you were being stubborn. As he swept away all the shards of glass you stood still behind him, hands behind your back, like a good girl, watching his every move. When he finished cleaning up, he went to put the broom away but you stood on all fours with your cheek on the floor to see if any more little shards had gone under the oven, konig came back and found you in that position, with your shorts peeking out of your panties from underneath and your tank top pulled up, you didn't notice his return, after all, he was a man used to being quiet despite his stature.

When he found you in that position he groaned and leaned down to grab you by the hips and lift you off the ground, he put you on his shoulder as if nothing was wrong and dragged you to the living room. he threw you on the couch, gently, and said still standing at the side of the couch "okay, you've been tempting me all day and now I'm tired, so now you take it and shut up. " he said in a lower voice than usual, with a tone full of lust and eagerness, his eyes showed the same. 

He got on top of you but without lying down, ran his big fingers over your belly and then went over it again from under your tank top. Slipping down he pushed the elastic of your yellow shorts with him, revealing your white panties with the pink bow; They were his favorite, because they made you look so pure, so untouchable...so virgin, even though you were anything but and he could confirm that. As soon as he saw your little panties, now wet, he grunted again and closed his eyes, as if trying to hold himself back from something. "lkleiner Engel what are you doing to me" he said on your lips just before kissing you, in that state konig couldn't close his eyes, he wanted to watch every little aspect, every little movement you made and take credit for it. The kisses became more passionate and wet and were dragged from your lips to your jaw where they then went to your neck. You were a mess, your hair already tousled, your turgid nipples trying to stand out from your tank top, your lips swollen and red as your hands caressed his still-covered chest. He let out involuntary moans now and then, and you began to feel a presence on his bare thigh. 

"Kon...ah...I want...I want you please" you moaned in a whisper, you weren't even sure if he would hear but he, attentive to your every movement, heard just fine and smiled "patience bunny, you have to be patient" he wanted to spite you, but you in that state barely knew your name; then a thought crossed your mind, how did he with just kisses make you so needy, like a little whore, shame took over and he noticed, it wasn't the first time it happened to you. "hey, baby, take it easy, remember to breathe, I'm staying here, I'm not moving" he said as if he had read your thoughts, you relaxed your muscles and let him. 

Your thighs and opened automatically when he came to kiss your belly button. the thing that made you lose your mind more than anything was how he kept his gaze on you while you struggled to even breathe.

As soon as konig arrived on the fabric covering your core he carefully observed the wet spot and put his tongue on it, applying a tiny bit of pressure to your center and causing you to close your eyes. but just then konig said "eyes on me baby" which more than a warning at that moment felt like a threat.; He wasted no time in gently sliding your panties down and opening your legs with his hands, which as you tried to close he seemed to maintain without any trouble. 

His hungry eyes watched your dripping center and he blew on it, the sensation sent shivers all over your body causing you to push your head back on the pillow; He slipped his tongue through your folds going everywhere except your clitoris, to your annoyance, you felt his hot, hungry tongue in places you didn't know you had, but all that wasn't enough, you wanted more, you wanted him. "Konig, I want you...n-no" you tried to explain but he interrupted you "you've been naughty today, I wonder if you have permission to come", you closed your eyes instantly, squeezing them tight, you needed him more than anything in that moment; "please...I-I'll be a good girl, I promise" you said, trying to lift your head to look at him. 

While you were talking, he stopped to observe you from below, smiling at your behavior and observing your every slightest movement, taking credit for it; then he sank into your folds continuing to grope your clit, lightly touching it with his tongue and causing you to moan a little, that verse sent Konig out of his mind and he started sucking your clit right away, strong and hungry. You let out strangled sounds as you gripped the couch with your hands, your legs begged to be closed but Konig had no intention of doing so, he ate you as if you were his last meal, hungrier than ever. He too, while devouring you, let out small roars. Soon you felt butterflies in your stomach, you arched your back and konig wasted no time placing a hand on your belly as he continued his meal, even though he was focused on your center, he noticed all your movements. 

Your eyes closed as you felt something approaching your center, your legs began to tremble and every movement he made seemed much more amplified "I-I'm about to c" you didn't have time to finish the sentence before you released all your pleasures on his mouth, pleasures that he obviously didn't waste but enjoyed with hunger. 

After a while you calmed down, your back rested on the sofa and your legs stopped shaking, the spasms decreased and your breathing became regular again. You finally saw your boyfriend's face, with his lips swollen, red and wet. He stood up as he smiled at you and said "my turn, engel"

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Hi! Sorry to interrupt your reading, this is the first one shot that I've ever wrote, tell me what you think, I'll appreciate it very much. Be, also, brutally honest but without being vulgar or stuff. Thanks, little ribbons, have a great day!

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[caliburn-the-sword]

finished reading scarlet; last thoughts and reactions and ponderings

was about to be like "ew wtf did not want r*pe in MY y/a book" AND THEN HE SLIPPED HER AN I.D. TO ESCAPE

thorne is SO real for only being concerned about his jacket despite human bites being very dangerous lol

why are these werewolves acting like vamps

it's kind of nice how cool thorne is with lunars with all the lunar hate there is - i remember when reading cinder being apalled about how she generalised them all as corrupt

YES SCARLET KNOWS SHE KNOWS NOW

NO NOT GRANNY I'M LITERALLY IN STUDY PERIOD RN I CAN'T CRY (note: i managed not to cry in study period but god my eyes burned for a while lmao)

tf i thought wolf was just being possessive in like a protective way against ran and not just a plain old possessive way. he's honestly making me nervous rn like goodness i can literally feel scarlet's fear rn. STOP WITH YOUR I CAN FIX HIM DISEASE AND RUN (note: okay he got brain fucky wucky by mind control so this isn't him)

HOLY SHIT THEY'RE ALL FINALLY MEETING I'M FROTHING AT THE MOUTH

i think kai is going delulu. i bet his office isn't bugged and he's got a spy. literally since cinder my money has been on torin. but maybe huy

omg kai's recognition of cinder's sacrifice by going to the ball <3

gotta agree with everything cinder's saying about kai's marriage because it's everything i've been thinking since kai decided to marry levana. i wish he would see how it's a bandaid for a stab wound. he's barely fixing a short term problem, which is gonna have the same long term problem regardless

the girls (all current pov characters) ARE FIGHTING. not mad tho because i'm a messy bitch who lives for drama <3

"She'd had the bridge built for herself out of very special glass, so that she could watch (...) all without being observed herself" levana YOU MEAN A TWO WAY MIRROR??? don't go acting all superior you're not special

from what wolf has described of his Tragic Backstory there is NO way he ISN'T a virgin. i'm so sorry that was my only takeaway but i'm trying to distract myself

"We met less than a week ago and in that time I've done nothing but lie and cheat and betray you" FKSDHFSDK sounds JUST like ouat rumpelstiltskin and yet he's STILL healthier than him and not toxic LMAO

wait did wolf need to pretend betray scarlet without her knowing instead of just making THAT the plan because those supersoldiers can smell hormones?? i bet they can. i reckon he needed her to feel REAL fear (note: now that i think about it it's probably just the bioelectricity crap but also ONLY the thaumaturge would be able to detect that???)

if i keep having to read "alpha female" with my own two eyes, i'm going to need bleach. marissa meyer you owe me financial compensation for the psychological distress i've been caused. 3 is in fact 4 times too many. it is a crime that it was ever thought into existence

predictions for cress

didn't do this last time between cinder and scarlet but figured it would be fun!! you guys get to silently laugh about how wrong i am, no spoilers

first off, doc erland's place in africa becomes the home base and cinder starts her training

someone tries to recreate garan's device since it will be useful for the rebellion - could be a joint effort between cinder and cress since they have the hardware and software down respectively. idk who's gonna fill the last role of like. bio stuff and the surgeries tho but we'll see

MORE THORNE BACKSTORY

definitely more wolf pov chapters now that marissa no longer needs to make him dodgy

cress is at least a LITTLE bit delulu wackers bonkers cray z lost her marbles etc etc from being so isolated for so long. i would LOVE to get into that mindset and character voice. would make for a very interesting pov

on reading the blurb:

i'm REALLY fucking dumb it finally occurred to me that in rapunzel the hero falls from the tower and gets blinded by thorns. so that tells me exactly who carswell thorne is (rip to when i thought he was the prince from sleeping beauty cause that's embarrassing). i wonder if he gets ejected into space from the satellite and his eyeballs freeze out of his sockets or something

i wonder WHY cress would be locked up by the queen BEFORE she was even able to hack since she wouldn't have been useful then. my first thought was that glamour doesn't work on her like with shells but she's not a shell herself but that wouldn't make sense because the thaumaturges seemed surprised by cinder and michelle benoit so it can't be that. for the sake of my running joke of every fairy tale character either being related or knowing each other, i'm just gonna pin it down to her being somewhere in the family tree and leave it at that

can these people STOP getting separated from each other?? i can't handle it. from the blurb it seems like the boys got cut off from the girls??? and then kai is also separated from all of them lol. this is a prediction only in the sense that i'm trying to guess who's getting separated from who. i think it would tie well into separating everyone from their love interest like poor cinder

i wonder if this will be the book that we meet princess winter since with royal etiquette and all that her presence will p r o b a b l y be required during all them wedding preparations and what not

@eddisfargo @francforever @winterrhayle @winterpinetrees

[sweetloleepop]

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑶𝒍𝒅, 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑵𝒆𝒘, 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅, 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒆

Chapter 3: Les Nuits Parisiennes

Synopsis: What comes after the wedding? The honeymoon of course. And where else is it best to celebrate it other than the city of love?

Pairings: Zeke Yeager/Reader, Erwin Smith/Reader

Tags: Modern AU, Arranged Marriage, Additional Tags to be Added, Implied Sexual Content, Reader is kind of a dandere, Erwin Smith is mean and cold, angst, spoilers in tags, slow burn, mild smut, vaginal fingering, fingerfucking, loss of virginity, p in v sex

a/n: I'm trying my best to update as fast as I can and I hope I didn't made you guys wait for so long!! Also, here's chapters 1 and 2

Wordcount: 1.8k

“Will you, Erwin Smith, take (Y/N) (L/N) as your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do”

“Will you, (Y/N) (L/N), take Erwin Smith as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do”

“By the power vested in me by God and man, I now pronounce you as husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride”

Erwin and (Y/N) faced each other. He gently lifted her vail and slowly inched closer. (Y/N)’s heart kept on beating so fast, she hasn’t kissed a man before, this will be the first. She tried to calm herself just before Erwin closed the space between their lips.

The kiss was short, only lasting at least 5 seconds. Erwin thought kissing her for so long would be too immoral and kissing her without making it last would look too suspicious so he decided to count to five when their lips met.

After the kiss, the newly weds looked at the people in the church, they were all cheering for them.

In the corner of (Y/N)’s eye, she saw her father, he doesn’t look happy but not mad either. (Y/N) thought to just ignore him for now, after all she’s married and she doesn’t have to stay with them anymore and that gave her a sense of relief.

||

(Y/N) found herself reminiscing in the earlier events. She’s currently sat down on the hotel bed, wearing only a nightgown. Their trip to Paris was short, thanks to the fast and steady flight of Erwin’s private plane.

(Y/N) felt a bit nervous. They’ve finished their dinner earlier and have took a little rest. It’s what’s going to happen next that is causing her anxiety. She has never slept with anyone before and she’s afraid that she’ll make a mistake —worse, displease her partner.

She jumped a little as the door suddenly opened. Erwin looked at her with his stunning blue eyes. They looked shiny and dreamy in the darkness of the room.

(Y/N) examined Erwin. He’s wearing a pair of pajamas in dark shades of blue, he looks so enticing. Her thoughts were interrupted by Erwin’s heavy steps. He’s heading towards her and she can’t calm her rapidly beating heart.

“May I?” Erwin asked while pointing at the empty space next to (Y/N).

“Sure”

Erwin sat down on the bed next to her and cleared his throat.

“I’ll be forward with you and say it. We both know what’s supposed to happen tonight but I won’t force anything on you. I know that we still barely know each other but this needs to happen anyways. I would rely on your decision right now for your body is greatly involved but do know that you’re free to tell me when you’re not feeling comfortable about something or if we should do anything at all tonight.”

(Y/N) didn’t know what to say. Erwin is being considerate and she’s glad that he is but having her decide on this is very unexpected. Personally, she’s anticipating something to happen tonight but saying that out loud is very embarrassing.

“W-well, I mean, we’ll need to do it eventually anyways so why not do it tonight?” Gosh, if this isn’t incredibly embarrassing.

(Y/N) looked up just in time to see Erwin nodding.

“I see. Very well then,” Erwin stood up and picked out something from the mini fridge inside their room. “Would you like something to drink before we get to it?”

“Sure, I guess”

Erwin gave her a glass of red wine. She watched as the red liquid swirled inside the glass.

“Thank you”

“You’re welcome. Cheers to our wedding, hm?”

“Cheers” They clicked their glasses and drank the red liquid. (Y/N) hummed as she tasted the bittersweet wine.

||

Erwin and (Y/N) drank for a while and talked a bit. (Y/N) found herself feeling more comfy with Erwin as she knew more about him and see more of what he’s like. Erwin feels the same way but of course, he can’t forget what all this is about.

Erwin gave her yet another glass and they raised their drinks together. (Y/N) drank it almost immediately, feeling as the bitter taste of alcohol caress her tongue and ran down her throat. She was honestly feeling a bit light headed but not really that drunk.

“This should be enough for tonight, don’t you think?” Erwin asked.

“Oh, yes, sure” (Y/N) simply replied.

Erwin took their glasses and put them away. After that, he came back to his seat beside (Y/N) and they just sat there in silence. Both knew what they’re supposed to do yet no one’s doing anything.

For the first time in Erwin’s life, he is unsure of what to do. He know what he has to but deep inside him, he doesn’t really want to do this– Not in this circumstance. He took a deep breath and looked at the woman beside him. (Y/N) must’ve noticed his gaze because not long after he looked at her, she looked back at him. Erwin took that as a cue and held (Y/N)’s chin between his thumb and index finger.

They looked into each other’s lips and eyes then finally, they closed the space between them. The kiss was soft, almost tender. It wasn’t rushed which made (Y/N) thankful for she’s still learning things and this is very new to her, in fact this is her first real kiss– except for hers and Erwin’s shared kiss at the altar.

Not long after, she felt Erwin’s tongue swipe through her lips and she subconsciously opened her mouth. Erwin took that chance to enter (Y/N)’s mouth. He guided her tongue and she followed his ministrations. ‘So this is what kissing is’ (Y/N) thought to herself. She felt Erwin’s hand caress her cheek and touch her waist, he was trying to guide her to go near the bed’s headboard. (Y/N) obliged, trying her best to not break the kiss while moving backwards. They soon reached the pillows and Erwin made her lay down.

Erwin broke the kiss which made (Y/N) release a small involuntary moan. She was blushing so hard and was catching her breath. (Y/N) felt very embarrassed under Erwin’s gaze and so she averted hers. She felt Erwin’s fingers run through her gown and she looked back at him.

“May I?” Erwin quietly asked.

“S-sure,”

||

Erwin removed (Y/N)’s clothes. He slowly traced his fingers through her body and caressed every parts that he could. He watched as she twitched and squirmed under his touch, ‘sensitive’ he thought. He started to remove his own clothes, leaving only his underwear. Just when he thought (Y/N) couldn’t get any red, she blushed harder when he saw Erwin’s body. She’s never seen a man naked before and the anticipation and excitement that it gives her is almost unbearable.

(Y/N) watched as Erwin slide his hand down in between her thighs. Her breathing is hard and she’s covering her face with her hand. She sighed as she felt Erwin’s finger wander near her clothed entrance. He’s teasing her. Erwin wanted to make sure he preps her well so kept the teasing going until (Y/N) is practically grinding into his hand. He slowly removed her lacy underwear and threw them away.

Erwin slowly encircled his finger near (Y/N)’s entrance. He slowly but surely gathered enough of her slick to rub her clit. He sank his finger a little and swiped through (Y/N)’s folds. She released a moan as she felt Erwin’s finger slid through her. Erwin started to rub his finger in circles in her clit, making her whimper. He continued with his ministrations for a bit before he slid his finger down.

Erwin slid one finger in, making (Y/N) gasp and close her legs. He was fast to catch one of her leg though, opening them again. He thrust his finger in and out for a few times before inserting another one. He fingered her with two of his fingers for a while and then he tried to insert yet another one in.

(Y/N) felt Erwin trying to insert a third finger. She felt herself stretch and she released a hurt whimper. She tried to bear with it for a while but she’s getting too hurt and uncomfy so she looked at Erwin with teary eyes.

“I know, but I need to prep you well or it’ll hurt more” Erwin told (Y/N) as if he’d read her mind.

(Y/N) endured the pain which soon turned into pleasure. She felt Erwin’s fingers slid in and out of her repeatedly and curl inside her. It wasn’t long until she felt a weird sensation in her stomach. Her moans became louder and she bit her hand. Erwin noticed that (Y/N)’s about to cum so he traced circles around her clit with his thumb. As (Y/N) reached her high, she moaned a loudly, gripped the sheets and arched her back. She twitched a lot afterwards, having been so sensitive after her first orgasm. (Y/N) felt heavenly and light, it was a feeling that she’s never felt before. Erwin waited for her to come down from her high and while waiting, he started to remove the only garment left on his body.

(Y/N) took a look at Erwin and her eyes widened at what she saw. She- She’s seeing a man’s- And- Ah-

“Don’t worry, I think I’ve prepped you enough. I can’t guarantee that it won’t hurt though”

(Y/N) only nodded as a response.

After (Y/N) calmed down from her previous orgasm, Erwin took his time making himself fully hard. He slowly stroked himself before he placed himself between (Y/N)’s legs. He positioned his cock in line with (Y/N)’s entrance and slowly, he entered. (Y/N) felt hurt due to the stretch even though she’s still so wet.

Both released a sigh of relief as Erwin bottomed out. (Y/N) felt so full but the lack of friction made her a little frustrated. She bucked her hips which Erwin took as a cue to move. He slowly started to pull out, then he’ll enter again with the same pace.

Not long after, Erwin has started to pick up a fast pace. (Y/N)’s cunt squeezed Erwin’s cock so tightly which made the man almost lose his rational thinking. (Y/N)’s still so tight, something Erwin hasn’t felt before. He only ever realized he’s never had sex with a virgin. It’s only her. While Erwin’s body is busy, his mind wanders to think of a certain someone, that woman.

Erwin’s fast pace made (Y/N) feel that same sensation in her stomach as before, she’s close. She doesn’t have anything in her mind except from chasing that high. She quietly whispered Erwin’s name.

Erwin snaked his hands between their bodies, trying to locate (Y/N)’s clit. He started to rub tight circles on her before she finally came. (Y/N) tightly gripped Erwin’s arm causing for him to groan.

Erwin’s orgasm didn’t take long after (Y/N). After a few more hard thrusts, he finally came. His arms trembled and he let himself fall beside (Y/N).

As both tried to catch their breaths, silence enveloped their room. This will be the start…

[authorbiancawilcox]

My Favourite What If (Chapter 1)

Falling in love with your brother’s best friend is a big no-no, but that’s not why I’m panicking right now.

I’m panicking because not only is Kyle Johnson my brother’s best friend, but he’s also my new boss. I look down at my phone in my hands, feeling like I might faint if I don’t sit down.

It had never been a problem, my crush on Kyle. Of course, it made it awkward hanging out with my brother if he was there too, and it did lead to some embarrassing moments when I would get flustered seeing him shirtless when he stayed over, but those were small things. 

The message is from my brother, Andy, who I love, but sometimes he gets me in trouble when I could do without it. Andy is away right now, at university studying to become a dentist. Unlike him, I hadn’t wanted to do any other schooling after I graduated. Which he somehow thought I needed help with, since I hadn’t been able to get a job for the past few months.

Hey Hanna, Kyle said he has a position as his secretary…

Why does he always have to do this? I skim my eyes over the rest of the message, and it’s even worse than I thought. He actually told Kyle I needed the job, and that I would be happy to do it. Well, I guess I’m screwed. I don’t bother answering him; he can’t be stuck in left on read jail, and I instead open my messages with Kyle. Or lack thereof. 

I nibble my lip and look at our bare message history. The exchanges we have had were along the lines of talking about Andy or asking for the wifi password. I’m only two years younger, but we don’t talk. Maybe if we had, this wouldn’t be so awkward. 

I decided to bite the bullet and send him a message. It’s 8 AM on a Sunday, so I’m not sure if I’ll get a response anytime soon. I put my phone on silent and finish my bowl of soggy cereal. Mum has already left for her job at the daycare down the road, so really I can just lounge around all day.

I check my phone, and my heart drops. No response from Kyle, and it’s been ten minutes. I can lounge around all day, maybe watch some TV, but I can’t. Instead, I shower and dress in a comfy sundress, tying my brown hair into a bun. I start in the kitchen and work my way out until four hours later, the house is clean.

I grab myself a cold glass of pink lemonade and flop onto the couch. It’s only then that I remember Kyle, and I check my phone. My heart skips a beat when I see his text.

***

I hadn’t had a job before, but my mother made sure I was prepared to go to interviews. 

I walk into the glass doors of the tall building, dressed in a slim pencil skirt, a dark pink blouse, and professional but still cute flats. I look the part, if only I could feel it. I swallow around the scream that wants to escape my throat and walk up to the front desk. A lady is seated behind it, maybe a few years older than me. When she sees me, she smiles, and I feel myself break into a sweat. I don’t know if I can do this, work underneath him.

Kyle isn’t the owner of Liceno Hills Paper, but his father is. If I do anything wrong, if I get fired from this job, not only will I burn a bridge with Kyle, but I will with one of the most important people in Liceno Hills. No pressure, right?

“Hi, I’m here for my first day? Hanna Jones.” The words don’t sound right coming from my mouth, and she shoots me a sympathetic smile. So it’s not just me feeling like I’m dropping the ball on this, am I? She writes on a sticky note the floor, and tells me it’s the door at the end of the hall. Kyle’s office, where I’ll meet him and he’ll talk me over my job. Surely being a secretary won’t be too difficult, right?

I fold the note and tuck it in my purse, and thank her. The elevators are on the left, and I hop inside. I press the third floor. I didn’t need the paper, but it’s nice to have anyway. The ride up isn’t long enough to get rid of all my nerves, but it helps to get rid of most. The hall that the elevator door opens on is short and void of any doors besides the one at the end. I frown and think back on the receptionist’s instructions. I hope I don’t look as helpless as I apparently seem, especially in front of Kyle.

I walk down the hall, feeling myself tremble a little, and knock on the thick, oak door. At first, there’s nothing, and I check my watch. 9 AM on the dot, and from Kyle’s messages, even a little after 9 was fine on my first day, in case I had gotten lost. I knock again, and this time, there’s an answer. The door swings open, and in the doorway, dressed in a suit and tie stands Kyle. I’ve only ever seen him in sweats and loose tees, and years ago in a school uniform. Seeing him in a well-fitted suit, with his hair combed back and face clean-shaven, it’s almost impossible not to swoon. I get myself under control and smile up at him.

Be professional, he is helping you out.

“Hi, Hanna.” He steps out of the door and waves me in. His office is large enough for two desks and a few comfortable-looking chairs against the wall, but other than that, it’s bare. Even Kyle’s desk is bare, with only a monitor on top. No picture frame, no bit of personality. I flick my eyes back to my brother’s best friend and feel myself color as I catch his eyes, already staring at me. Being professional is going to be a lot harder than I thought.

I can hardly concentrate on what Kyle, Mr. Johnson, tells me, but I get the gist of it. For today, answer calls, answer emails, and rearrange his work calendar around said emails. Later on, he says as he leans over my shoulder and types something on my new keyboard, I’ll have a hand in the harder stuff. I breathe in his cologne, and dangerous thoughts fill my head.

I turn to him, and he’s so close that I can count the smattering of freckles over his nose. He goes to say something, and I wait for it. He looks away, and then must decide on something else. Standing straight, Kyle moves out of my space and back over to his desk. I miss his warmth, but I’m also thankful that I didn’t make a fool out of myself.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Johnson.” I give him a shaky smile and toy with the edge of my pencil skirt. There’s a moment of silence between us before he nods and sits down.

I blow out a slow sigh and turn to start reading emails.

-

Read the whole short story for free on Amazon.com

[z0mbicide]

cool bug andrew facts bc i'm thinking abt him So Much at the moment. i love my special lil guy

tws/cws for discussions of alcoholism, non-consensual act of turning someone into a vampire, unhealthy friendships, traumatic near-death experience, and description of violence

he has his bachelor's in archeology and anthropology

a couple years after getting his bachelor's, he decided to go back to school to get his master's in archeology. he didn't get to finish his final year because he was turned

very socially dominant and larger than life

has a habit of not thinking before he speaks

has difficulty taking accountability for his actions and hates being called out on his shit (he does get better about this, it just takes time)

doesn't know how to properly apologize for things, so he just pretends the wrongdoing never happened after a couple days (again, he gets better, it just takes time)

he used to work at tgi fridays and a coin-op arcade (before it shut down) when he was still human

wore glasses before he was turned. his vision was corrected after turning, so he quit wearing them

more under the cut

he and xander look very similar (people mistake them for siblings frequently), but the key differences are that andrew is shorter, has silver eyes, has visible scars on the right side of his face and neck, has freckles, and his nose is a little crooked after having it broken in high school

the scars on his face and neck are from being attacked by a vampire and nearly killed

he's a recovering (functional) alcoholic, and started drinking when he was in high school. he got clean just before graduating from college

despite alcohol no longer affecting him, he still stands firm in never drinking again

he's the weakest vampire of his bloodline and of his vampiric "family" and he's very insecure about it

he's also the outcast/outsider/black sheep of said "family" and has nearly cut ties several times because of how poorly they've treated him

the house he lives in now is as far away from everyone as he could get while still being in town

he hates the fact he's going to look 24 for the rest of his (after)life

he was turned into a vampire without his consent by his best friend ("i know you were just trying to save me, and i respect that. [..] you made the decision.. but i wasn't able to have a say in it.") and he still holds a bit of resentment toward him for it despite forgiving him to a degree regarding the whole thing

he and his best friend share their death date, october 31, 2020

he's not the greatest friend. as much as he does love and care for his best (and sometimes only) friend, he has a bit of a habit of disregarding his feelings when they don't align with his own. he does improve this behavior, but it takes him some time after turning to do so

doesn't like feeding on humans very much, but knows he can't survive solely on bloodbags, so he just sucks it up (ha) and "live feeds" as quickly as possible

very light sleeper now that he's a vampire (he doesn't need nearly as much sleep anymore, but he still likes doing it)

didn't like xander at first, but warmed to him over time and they became close enough for him to see xander as a surrogate older brother

the trauma surrounding the events of his turning didn't hit him right away, but when it did, it fucked him up bad

he doesn't remember much about the turning itself because he was literal moments away from dying and barely conscious, but he does remember the feeling of his flesh being torn from his body and being covered in his own blood when he was attacked

has a lot of pent up anger and aggression about so much shit, so he uses whatever physical methods he can to unbottle those feelings (he has several torn punching bags as a result)

sometimes he goes back to his hometown at night and sits at his grave and looks at the things his mother and older brother leave there. his empty casket is buried next to his father

despite regular food not being able to sustain him anymore, he still eats it. he loves meat in particular, and decided to learn different ways to prepare various kinds that he didn't already know how to do so he wouldn't get sick of it. he's no chef, mind you, but his success rate isn't terrible

because he's a member of a wealthy vampiric house he has a lot more money than he could ever spend in a human lifetime. he's personally not used to having a lot of money, so he still spends sparingly like he did as a "juuust able to make ends meet" college kid

[therandomavenger]

Flight of Ideas

A lot of people like to ask writers, and other creative types, ‘Where do you get your ideas?’ And that is, in many ways, the wrong question. I, like many other writers, have a thousand ideas before breakfast (to plagiarize Lewis Carroll). Coming up with ideas is not the problem.

At least, it’s not the problem the way the people who are asking about it mean it. Ideas kind of follow me around like a swarm of butterflies, and it can be an effort to catch one or two of them and put them in my pocket without completely destroying their wings.

Actually, that sounds like a terrible thing to do to butterflies. I regret this metaphor (yes, I know it was technically a simile).

What I mean is the problem has always been too many ideas, not a lack of ideas.

And yes, I know there are some writers who struggle with idea generation. We’ll get to that later. I know I am not speaking for all writers here.

I described this whole ‘butterfly swarm of ideas’ thing to my psychiatrist and one point and he looked at me, really concerned, and adjusted his glasses before dropping this bomb on me: ‘Chad, that sounds like a symptom of mania.’

Oh.

Shit.

He went on to explain, and I did some research on my own, and … welp, he’s right.

Flight of ideas: A rapid speech or mental pattern with abrupt topic changes characterized by loosely connected or unrelated thoughts. Flight of Ideas is commonly observed in manic episodes of bipolar disorder, reflecting a manifestation of disorganized thinking and elevated mood.

–Austin Rausch, MS, LPCC, LICDC

Welp, there’s me told.

And I do tend to have a lot of ideas when I’m entering a manic episode. It’s one of the signs. If I plot out three seven-book fantasy series in one evening, you know a storm’s-a-comin.’ In those cases, I will also throw in a couple of life-changing career or education goals, as well as start focusing on about five home improvement projects. Also, I might decide to launch a podcast? I’ll definitely order all the equipment for it! These things all seem to happen at once.

But I kind of don’t want to see the ideas themselves as the problem. In a manic state, it’s hard to decide which ideas are worth pursuing and which are hot—but entertaining—garbage. But there are always some gems in there, and I wouldn’t want them to go away. I kind of see this is not so much a symptom of mania, but as a gift of mania.

And really, it’s a gift that keeps giving even when my mental state is closer to a healthy baseline. I tend to have a lot of ideas for stories. When I was reading only novels and series, it was novel and series ideas, now it’s just as likely to be shorter ideas, and now that I am in Art school, ideas for visual projects. There’s a lot of them. I’m writing them down in my spare moments. I refuse to see this as a problem.

I sat down one day and wrote down a list of books I wanted to write. These are somewhat developed ideas that I thought were strong enough to be viable. I stopped writing the list when I got to 27.

Now, this isn’t really a problem. Will I write all 27+ of these books? Maybe, maybe not. I mean, time might have a vote in this, but I’m not that old. If I write 3 books a year, which I’ve been doing for the past couple of years (and some of these are novellas) it would only take me 9 years. I’ll barely be 60.

What I’ve decided to do is write some basics outlines for these books and do what I do best: put them on a schedule! Now, my schedule doesn’t have dates on it because that makes me put way too much pressure on myself. My schedule is basically a list. And I have solid plans for the next 7 projects.

               Finish World Enough and Time (current WIP, standalone sci-fi romance novella)

               Write Blood of the Saints (post-apocalyptic standalone fantasy short story/novella)

               Write The Lion and the Sparrow (standalone fantasy novella)

               Write Valley of Storms (Ascension Apocalypse book 2)

               Write Seeds of Hope (standalone sci fi novella)

               Write The Glittering Tomb (The Circle and the Shadow book 2)

               Write Stars Without End (Broken Stars finale)

3 of those projects short. I hope. These are all ideas that I’ve developed to the point that I am ready to start writing them. I have many others in more nascent stages. And clearly, I have not taken the advice that says, ‘Finish 1 series and the move on to the next.’ I know that’s good advice. But my muse has adhd (obviously) so here we are. Also, no traditional publisher in their right mind is going to let me do things in this order, Ursula Vernon/T. Kingfisher’s career notwithstanding. So, thank God that self-publishing is an option.

And this is just the writing. I have Curse of the Onyx Heart (The Circle and the Shadow book 1) basically ready to go as soon as I order the cover. And Beneath the Silent Stars (Broken Stars book 5) will go to the editor in March. I’m hoping World Enough and Time will be ready to publish by November.

So … I have a lot of ideas. I’ve learned how to snag hold of them and develop them to the point that they work as complete stories. I’m learning how to do that with art as well. I refuse to see this as a symptom of mental illness, or if it is, thank God there’s no cure.

As for the people who tell me they struggle to come up with ideas, I don’t have much advice, except to say you need to be absorbing all sorts of stories in various media, and figuring out which ones speak to you and why. That will help you find your own unique voice. You also need to be going out into the world and having Experiences. Work some crappy (but not abusive) jobs. Take a trip that scares you. Fall in love and get your heart broken. There are many experiences that are out there waiting for you and many of them don’t even cost any money. You have some sort of internal antenna that needs to be out, collecting signals, or, if you like this metaphor better, you need to be looking for the butterflies and carrying a net to catch them with. You find what you’re looking for (thanks, reticular activating system!), so if you’re looking for ideas, they will come to you. That may mean you need to change from being a passive observer of what is happening to someone who is always trying to figure things out, and maybe even putting themselves in the middle of the action. Or develop bipolar disorder. That’s what worked for me!

A Flight of ideas might be a symptom, but it is also a gift. And I’m glad that I’ve been given treatments for my mental illness that have not taken this away from me. I would miss it. It feels like a vital part of myself. I don’t know who I would be without it.