#i am their little kitchen gremlin and I love it

[franabz]

Fran Fran Fran!!

Idk when you’ll do asks or at least this ask but…

I need to see ghost x singleparent! Reader.

Lots of love

Sammy (reena)

★ Little things

You and Simon have been best friends since high school, and you both seemed to naturally gravitate towards one another. You both weren't exactly the most talkative pair which worked out in both of your favors quite nicely since there didn't need to be a strong conversation (if even at all) for the two of you to be content with one another. It was refreshing.

One thing led to another and suddenly you were carrying another man's baby fresh out of high school; a man you thought loved and cared about you all to turn his back the second he got that pregnancy test back positive. Simon always knew the man was trouble from the start, but you never should have had to find it out for yourself in these circumstances. He was always right there, even while on deployment to god knows where, listening to your broken sobs and blubbering stutters over the phone about how hard it was to juggle raising a daughter while having been fresh out of high school and barely running on multiple jobs with the pay that was practically a joke to you.

Starting off was difficult yes, but you never not once regretted what happened. You love your daughter Sydney with all of your heart and always did everything in your power to give her the best life possible, even if money was tight and she couldn't always get the candy in the grocery store checkout isles that sat oh so temptingly for her chubby little hands to get ahold of. In spite of Simon being gone and having joined the military, he always did his best to help you and give you the life he knew you deserved. You both deserved.

One day in particular it was raining exceptionally hard and Simon was fresh off deployment and needed a place to stay the night to clear his head and snap him back to reality after a jarring mission he never bothered to talk about. You knew better than to push. You were setting Sydney into her highchair, clipping the tray back onto the chair and stepping into the kitchen to scoop some food out of a pot for the toddler as she babbled incoherent nonsense followed by some random phrases like "Hungry" and "Bottle." Simon had just stepped out of the bathroom after a much needed shower wearing a black 141 branded t-shirt and a pair of joggers he luckily packed during his deployment.

You looked up from the plate of food you made for Sydney and gave him a small fond grin. He returned the grin and walked into the kitchen alongside you, leaning back against the cool marble countertops and watching you do you (something he could never get tired of)

"Hard at work I see." He muttered with a playful huff, taking a slight step forward while looking over your shoulder. "When am I not?" You snorted in suit "Taking care of this little gremlin is a full time job."

"Not like you have to remind me, birdie." He playfully waved his hand in a dismissive manner, setting his skull-printed balaclava onto the counter beside him. He never liked wearing it as a civvie. Especially not in front of you or Sydney. Simon much preferred to keep his work far away from the peacefulness of being around you and the baby bear, finding it his own little slice of home in the midst of the hell he goes through behind closed doors. Sydney squealed a little "Si-Si!" as soon as Simon came into her peripheral view, outstretching her small chubby hands and bouncing around in her seat like a loose spring in a couch. "Yeah, yeah... Si-Si's out. Don't go jumping 'round like a bloody bunny, missy." Simon's mouth cracked a sliver of a smile as he kneeled over, ruffling Sydney's hair fondly and earning a giggle out of the little girl.

You had been watching the whole exchange from the side, placing Sydney's food onto the tray of her high chair and fighting back a goofy smile "I'm starting to think she like you more than me." You joked, tilting Sydney's chin up a bit to tie a bib around her neck. "Don't be mad i'm cooler." Simon huffed, glaring at you without any heat. All you did was roll your eyes and pick up another plate, handing the hefty meal to Simon with a smile. He looked down at the plate of food forced into his hands and choked out a small scoff "You know I told you... You don't 'ave to feed me, birdie..."

You simply shrugged and pushed the plate of food further against his chest, the smile never leaving your lips. "And do I ever listen?" You retorted.

"No." He muttered, his voice getting smaller as he could finally feel himself crumbling under the delectable scents of cooked chicken that was unlike anything he'd ever eaten in an MRE. Obviously.

"Exactly." You hummed, smile growing in victory that he didn't put up a fight for once and actually accepted the food you gave him. "So eat up, yeah? I need you staying in good shape for when you're back out on deployment." You added, plucking a bit of extra chicken off the bone in the tray it was cooked in and popping it in your mouth, eye contact never breaking. Simon just sighed and set his plate onto the counter, eating slowly and savoring every bite as if it was his last time enjoying a home cooked meal.

It was the little things that mattered.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

omg bread AND lasagna? can i come over for dinner? i'll bring sweets and a movie to watch? 🥹

yes yes yes yes yeeess come over ♡ what movie should we watch? I'm thinking a nostalgic romcom or something cute...

[agoodflyting]

One of the drawbacks of being Archduke is that, for the time being, Gortash has to halfway pretend to care about the people of Baldur's Gate. He has to worry about shit like the economy. There's a war coming and shit is getting expensive. If one more person complains to him about food shortages he's going to push them out a window.

Meanwhile, with how many Bhaalists are now joining his ranks, the Dark Urge is starting to have a problem adequately disposing of all the bodies. They like a little gore around - corpses are basically the Live Laugh Love sign of any bhaalist home - but even by their standards, the lair in the sewers is getting rank.

The Dark Urge complains about this to Gortash, and how tiresome it's getting tossing all the bodies in the river. Gortash (reading letters, fed up with these needy-ass poor people asking for food): "Seems an awful waste, with the price of meat what it is."

(Cue A Little Priest from Sweeney Todd but it's the Dark Urge and Gortash being gremlins and plotting for Gortash to open a charity soup kitchen where the Dark Urge will handle all the supplies and both of them find this hilarious and this will not leave me alone I am this close to writing this fic...)

[verstappentime]

@sunsetmog & i have gone deep into the sugar baby daniel rabbit hole so here's max trying to upgrade dan to full time sugar baby. it helped me feel better on my dreadful monday so y'all should have it as well <33 (read hers first)

Max is already out of bed when Daniel gets up. He's exhausted and heavy and sore. He feels like he could sleep another eight hours. Max would let him. But he has to go back to work tomorrow and he's not going to see Max for weeks and weeks after that. He's not in bed and Daniel misses him already, right now.

He wanders out into the kitchen. Max is perched at the breakfast bar, eating cereal and watching something on his phone, which is propped up on a book. Daniel keeps telling him to just put a TV in here, so he can stop sitting hunched over like a gremlin, but Max is hard to make do things if they're not for other people.

"Hey," he says, and watches Max's features soften when he looks up.

Max struggles getting off his barstool, all stuck to it, in a rush to see him after probably, like, an hour. They're so embarrassing. He's so in love it hurts.

"Baby," Max says, sounding wounded. He touches Daniel's cheek, frowning like something's not where he left it. "You look so tired."

"That's alright." Daniel likes that Max notices him. He just– doesn't like that look on his face. "Am I still pretty, then?"

"Don't be stupid. You are of course very gorgeous and handsome." Max is still scrutinizing him. "But you are here all weekend and still tired."

"Yeah, well. I'm kind of in a deficit. I'm just. Gonna." Daniel brushes his hand off, not harshly, stepping around Max to pick out a mug and go for a latte.

He likes this new espresso machine. He's seen on the package delivery app from his apartment complex that Max got him one for his place – he's going to pretend to be surprised when he gets back.

Max is still hovering. Daniel lets him chew on whatever's bothering him. He rummages for sugar and debates between the four kinds of non-dairy milk Max got for him without turning to look.

"Are you alright?" Max asks, finally, as he's pouring milk into the frother.

"We established that I'm tired, Max. It's okay. Maybe I'll nap later."

Max wraps both arms around him from behind, forehead against the back of his neck. "I think maybe it's not going away," he says.

He can't cry, but he wants to. Max has never been with him during a bad spell. But he'd warned him. I won't want to do anything. I might need you to be a bit mean to get me to eat or shower. I'll be tired but sleep won't fix it.

"I'm just working too much." It sounds stupid.

Max says what Daniel's thinking. "It can be both." He pulls away. It doesn't sound like he's going to push it. "Can you show me how to do the coffee? So I can do it for you."

He breathes out. "Yeah, okay."

&&&

Max is skipping his training routine, and he doesn't say why.

He stays in with Daniel on the couch, and they watch It's Always Sunny, which Daniel can't believe Max has never seen and makes him nearly choke on his Red Bull.

It's good. He feels a little better after his coffee. They're good.

Max has been tracing loops on his thigh for awhile. He thinks one was a love heart. It means Max is thinking.

Dennis is about to tell the gang he's leaving, and it's important, but Max pauses the TV. He says, "Don't go back to work tomorrow."

"What?" He's out of PTO. Max knows that. They've gone over it ten times. "You know I can't–"

"Don't go back. Tomorrow or– don't go back. You don't have to. You don't have to worry about money. This is stupid." Max squeezes Daniel's thigh, urgent, which is about the only thing keeping his head from spinning off. "This is going to make you unwell and I don't want– there is no point when I can take care of it."

[bananami]

and just like that i’m back on my nanami bs. i hope this helps you all heal from the trauma that was season 2 of jjk <3 (cw: pure fluff, dad!nanami, wife!reader, sex is alluded to a number of times, nanami is just desperate for his wife ok)

“he just passed out, he usually naps for a good 30 minutes. i can do it in 20.”

you can’t help but laugh at your husband. ever since adopting yuuji the two of you have been adapting to your lives with a toddler. that included very limited one on one time, and it was taking a toll on nanami.

“i have to fold the laundry,” you’re tone is apologetic but your face tells him you find this amusing.

“you’re the greatest multitasker i know.”

you feel his arms wrap around you as you continue to fold yuuji’s t-shirts. the kid was so messy sometimes, it caused him to go through his entire closet in a weeks time. “we need to seriously go shopping and get him more things to wear.” you spun around to wrap your arms around his waist. “your child is a dirty little gremlin.”

“your husband is trying to be one too but you won’t let him act on it.”

“you are not gonna be 20 minutes, you say that but you’re not quick with it anymore old man.”

“who are you calling old man? i’m spry for my age.”

“see, you even sound like an old man.”

“an old man who just wants to show his wife how much he still loves her.” his hands slide up and down your back, holding you to him and bringing his lips to yours. “i love you. i miss you.”

“i miss you too kento,” you let him take his time kissing you. “ok, what if-“

“i love where this is going already.”

“i haven’t even told you.”

“the prospect of things makes me excited. really gets me going.”

you giggle, “so repressed.”

“you have no idea, it’s taking everything in me not to turn you around and accost you right here on the dining room table.” he leans his face down to nuzzle and kiss at your neck.

“accost?”

“accost. respectfully.”

you tighten your arms around his waist, satisfied with the heavy affection he’s showing you. “what if i call up gojo-“

“and just like that i’m soft.”

“kento!” you smack him in the back but can’t help the smile that sneaks onto your face. he’s so easy to rile up.

“you know the emotions his name invokes in me. i can’t stand him.”

“i was going to say, what if i called him up to see if yuuji can spend the weekend at his and geto’s place with megumi, and then you and i can have the entire weekend together. just the two of us.”

“i love him.”

“wow, wait until i tell him you said that.”

“i’ll never admit to it.” nanami takes your face into his hands, kissing at your lips over and over until a giggling voice breaks the moment.

“eeeeew!!” yuuji runs forward from the other side of the hallway, jumping up and down at nanami’s feet. “up, up, up!!” and when he does the pink haired little boy leans over to give you a kiss on the nose.

“thank you, yuuji,” you give his nose a kiss in return.

“thank you, mama!!”

nanami narrows his eyes and scratches at the boy’s belly, sending yuuji into another round of giggles at being tickled. “guess who’s house your gonna sleepover at this weekend.”

you send a look toward your husband. “he hasn’t agreed yet, i still have to call him.”

“he’ll agree. because if he doesn’t,” he presses a million little kisses all over yuuji’s face, “i might actually die. and then who will he have to annoy at work?”

“he does like to annoy you.”

“i’m well aware.”

“i’ll call him now.”

nanami sets yuuji down, sending him into the kitchen. before following him, he leans over to give you one last lingering kiss on the lips. “i love you,” his smile lifts into a tiny smirk, “and it is for that reason exactly that i say, with all of the love i can muster, i am going to ruin you this weekend.”

“ruin me?”

“ruin you. respectfully.”

[planet-marz1]

Our Little Sheep

Summary: You and Joel celebrate christmas with your many children Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Word Count: ~4.1k

Tags/Warnings:18+MDNI no use of y/n, implied age gap(not specified), reader is able to get pregnant, jackson!joel, peepaw!joel(really peepaw), mentions of pregnancy, brief mentions of childbirth (nothing graphic), brief mentions of breastfeeding (again, nothing graphic) Lots of fluff & cuteness, Joel being a cute girl dad™, this seems like it should be a crackfic, but I promise It's so wholesome

A/N: Ok so this fic idea was born out of my cold medicine induced haze, so bear with me here guys. It's just a silly little fic, not meant to be taken seriously at all, and It's the most fun I've had writing in a bit, so I hope you enjoy reading! Just a little clarity here, the kids' ages range from 0 to 9. I know it gets all confusing here, so I am welcome to provide any further clarity if anyone needs it! A huge thank you to @catchallfangirl for helping with the naming of all of these gremlins & with the constant encouragement ❤️ Thank you to @fhatbhabie for beta reading!

lovely dividers by @pamasaur

| main masterlist | ao3 link | follow my fic updates blog @planetmarz1-notifs

You open your eyes slightly, squinting them. Joel sleeps peacefully next to you, his breaths even and steady. Burrowing yourself further under the blankets, you scoot closer to him, your head on his chest and intertwining your legs with his. You run your fingers through the curls of his now, fully gray hair.

Slight whines start to fill the room, and you lift your head up and glance over your shoulder to peek into the bassinet next to your side of the bed. Joel had been up with the baby all night after you two had finished wrapping up the gifts for the other kids. So, you groggily sit up in bed, reaching over to pick up the tiny little infant.

“Shhh, It’s alright, little one.” You whisper quietly, trying to calm him. After a few attempts to shush him, it’s still not working. He’s probably hungry, you figure. Lifting your shirt, you help him latch onto your breast, and he finally calms. You sigh quietly with relief. It’s all a part of the process, you try to remind yourself. Little baby Joelseph had only been born a few weeks ago. No, his name isn’t actually Joelseph. Simply a nickname given to him by his many older sisters when you had been pregnant with him. It started as a cute joke, but sure enough he came into the world, and no one was able to call him by his proper name. Named after his father, but considering the chaos of your family, the nickname is simply just another thing that you don’t bother to fight to keep the peace in the house.

The early hours of the morning are usually the small period of time when the house is completely silent. Every other waking minute is filled with the sounds of the kids, either giggling, or fighting with each other over something. Though, silence isn’t always a good thing. You’ll never forget the time the kids got into the kitchen cupboards and practically wreaked havoc in the kitchen while you were outside tending to the sheep.

Sure enough, you hear the trampling of footsteps coming down the hallway. No matter how chaotic it may be, this is your favorite part of the day. Getting to start each day greeted by all of your beautiful children, reminding you of why you are so lucky. You softly graze your fingers over the baby’s hair.

“I think your sisters are here, little guy,” You chuckle softly. The doorknob jiggles a bit. Before all of your daughters begin to spill into your bedroom, all eleven of them. Yes, eleven. You and Joel had, admittedly, gotten out of control in that department.

You and Joel had met when he had returned to Jackson in the spring with Ellie in tow. It had been an immediate connection, quite literally. Hooking up one night in the bathroom of the Tipsy Bison, which is what led to your firstborn, Emilie. The pregnancy had come as a shock, but you and Joel were excited nonetheless.

A chorus of variations of “Mom,” or “Mommy,” begin to fill the room, and you try to shush the girls, reminding them of their little brother. “Ok, girls, I know that you’re excited to get downstairs to all of your gifts, but you’ve got to settle down a bit, alright?” You whisper gently. Finally, they all nod in understanding. The calm is short-lived, though. Jane and Jules, the cutest, but menacing pair of instigators, hop on to your bed, shaking Joel’s shoulder, trying to wake their father.

They were your fourth pregnancy, which was by far the most difficult one you had ever experienced. Constant discomfort, and sleepless nights from the relentless kicking and movement from them. It wasn’t the first time you had been pregnant with twins, but It had gone nothing like you had expected it to.

Joel, though typically a light sleeper, is particularly hard to wake after a night with no sleep, hence why you’d opted on letting him sleep in. The two of them, each on one side of him, lean in close to his face, leaving little room for personal space. “Daddy.” Jules says quietly, Jane keeping a close watch.

Joel peeks one eye open, a bit startled at first at the heavy breathing from the two girls so close to his face, but the confused expression on his face is quickly replaced by a tired grin. As soon as all the girls spot that their father has woken up, they all pile onto your bed, excitedly squealing and giggling. Luckily, little baby Joelseph had already been lulled into a deep sleep after he finished nursing. Even if he hadn’t, you're pretty sure the few short weeks he’s been in the world, he’s already used to the constant noise and chaos from his older sisters.

Joel sits up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, and tries to wrap his arm as many of them as humanly possible.

“When can we open our presents, daddy?” Tiny little Aurora questions impatiently. This is the first year she’s been able to fully understand the concept of Christmas, and all the gift giving. So, understandably, she is ecstatic for all the festivities of the day. She crawls into his lap, after attempting to clamber over all of her sisters in the way. Joel scratches at the scruff of his beard, and lifts her into his lap.

“How about we all eat breakfast first, sweetheart, then you all can tear into your gifts.” He says lowly, his voice still laced with sleep. “Sound like a plan?” He asks. The girls all nod in agreement.

You slowly stand up from the bed, still cradling baby Joelseph in your arms. Walking towards the door, you gesture for the girls to do the same. They all climb off of the bed, and without fail, the house is once again filled with chaos. All eleven of them racing out of your bedroom, and down the staircase to the kitchen.

Joel meets you by the doorway, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Well hello, sleepyhead.” You tease him. “Sleep well?”

“Just like usual, darling.” He kisses you again, this time placing kisses all over your face, and down your neck, before you place your hand gently on his chest stopping him from going any further.

“Not so fast, old man.” you chuckle softly. “We don’t need another one of these.” you say, gesturing down to the baby bundled up in your arms.

“One more wouldn’t hurt, huh?” He teases, and you just shake your head. 

“You say that because you aren’t the one who has to push them out.”

“We should probably get downstairs before they get into stuff that they shouldn’t be” You murmur, and Joel quietly nods in agreement.

The warmth of the morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room as you make your way into the dining room. Joel follows you, his hand brushing against the small of your back.

You and Joel enter the dining room, and expectedly the room is already filled with screaming and chaos. Alive with the energy of your daughters, and the two mischievous kittens, Ginny and Joel, weaving in and out of the chaos. 

Emilie, your oldest, is trying to settle an argument between Lacy and Lily, your first set of twins. Nothing new in your household, nearly every morning, no matter how many times you have to tell them that every seat is the same, the kids insist on fighting on who sits where, who sits next to whom. It’s exhausting, but you can’t help but smile at the chaos unfolding before you-it’s simply the routine of your everyday life.

Emilie, with her stern expression, finally manages to resolve the seating dispute between Lacy and Lily. You glance at Joel, and he chuckles, a knowing look passing between you. The girls quickly settle into their chairs, the anticipation of Christmas morning evident in their sparkling eyes. As you take your seat at the head of the table, Joel sits beside you, and the cacophony gradually subsides. Little Aurora, perched on Joel’s lap, swings her legs excitedly, eager to dive into the festivities.

“Alright, everyone, let’s dig in!” you announce with a smile, and the room erupts in cheers. The aroma of the freshly cooked breakfast wafts through the air as the kids eagerly serve themselves.

Emilie diligently helps the younger ones with their breakfast. She occasionally steals glances at the pile of gifts under the Christmas tree, anticipation gleaming in her eyes.

Lacy and Lily are engaged in animated conversation, their excitement palpable. Daisy can’t stop giggling at something Theo whispered in her ear. The second set of twins, Jane and Jules, sit side by side, already plotting mischief as they eye the presents.

Willow, with her big curious eyes, is inspecting her plate with utmost concentration, trying to decide which part of her breakfast to tackle first.

In the midst of the laughter and chatter, you catch Joel’s eye. There’s a shared understanding between you, a silent acknowledgement of the beautiful chaos that is your family. His gaze is filled with gratitude, and you can’t help but feel the same.

As the kids enjoy their breakfast, you steal a moment with Joel. “Can you believe how fast they're growing?” you murmur, your eyes dancing with a mixture of love and exhaustion.

Joel leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Feels like just yesterday we were sneaking around the Tipsy Bison.”

You laugh, the memory of that fateful night vivid in your mind. “Look where it led us.”

Kylie babbles incoherently as she attempts to mimic her older siblings. Aurora still sits on Joel’s lap, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the festive scene, and Joel aids her with her breakfast.

Maggie sits contentedly in her high chair, fingers sticky with syrup, as she munches on a piece of a pancake you’ve carefully cut up into small pieces for her.

The kids, fueled by excitement and sugar, chatter animatedly about their plans for the day. You and Joel exchange glances, both silently reveling in the joy of parenthood. The journey hasn’t been easy, but moments like these make it all worthwhile.

As breakfast winds down, you glance at Joel, both of you silently agreeing it’s time for the much-anticipated event of the morning.

The living room is now adorned with brightly wrapped gifts, a colorful display of the love and thoughtfulness you and Joel put into each one. The kids finish their breakfast, their eyes darting eagerly between the tree and the presents.

“Alright, kiddos, let the unwrapping begin!” Joel declares, and the room explodes with excitement. Each of their little faces lighting up with joy. 

“Okay, kiddos, let’s see what Santa brought us this year!” Joel exclaims, and the room erupts in cheers. The kids, now fueled by excitement from their furry friends and a hearty breakfast, rush to the tree, each claiming a spot around the mountain of gifts.

Emily takes charge, distributing gifts to each of her siblings with precision. Paper tears and laughter fill the air as each child discovers the treasures hidden beneath the wrapping.

Lacy and Lily eagerly tear into their presents, sharing excited glances when they unveil matching toys. Daisy clutches a doll close to her heart, and Jane and Jules giggle in delight at the surprise in their packages.

Theo, wide-eyed, unwraps a superhero action figure, and Willow discovers a fluffy stuffed animal that instantly becomes her new best friend. Kylie is overjoyed with a set of building blocks, her imagination already running wild.

Aurora claps her hands in glee as she unwraps a musical toy, and Maggie, though more interested in the wrapping paper than the actual gifts, coos happily.

Daisy twirls with a new dress, her face glowing with delight. “I’m going to wear this everyday!”

Aurora, surrounded by a pile of toys, claps her hands and points excitedly. “Look, Daddy, Mommy, so many toys!” Maggie, with a new plush toy in her tiny hands, giggles with joy. The room is filled with laughter and chatter as the kids excitedly showcase their new treasures.

Jane and Jules squeal in delight as they discover Joel curled up in the tangle of discarded wrapping paper, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Willow, with her big curious eyes, watches the kittens in fascination, occasionally reaching out to stroke their fur. Kylie bursts into giggles as Ginny playfully bats at a shiny ribbon. Aurora claps her hands in delight at the sight of the playful duo. Maggie points with chubby fingers, her face lighting up with a smile as Joel gracefully leaps onto the back of the couch.

Joel catches your eye, and you share a moment of warmth as you witness the joy on your children’s faces.

“Looks like our little fur balls are the stars of the show today.” He chuckles.

Watching as the kittens continue their playful antics. The room is filled with laughter, shouts of excitement, and the crinkling of wrapping paper.

As the chaos subsides, you lean into Joel, watching the kids with a contented smile. “Merry Christmas, Joel.” He whispers back the same sentiment, wrapping his arm around you, anchoring you in the midst of the joyful storm that is your family.

The room buzzes with the joyous laughter of your children, the kittens weaving throughout the living room. As the kids continue to show off their presents, Ginny and Joel curiously inspect the colorful array of toys and trinkets scattered across the room.

Emilie, your eldest, sits by your side, flipping through her new sketchbook. “Mom, look at this! It’s perfect for my drawings. Thank you, Santa!”

Lacy and Lily, wearing their matching necklaces, approach Joel with enthusiasm. “Dad, Dad! Can Joel play with us too?” they ask, extending an invitation for the adventurous kitten to join in on their imaginative play.

Daisy twirls around in her new dress, and with a dramatic flair, she curtsies. “I’m a princess, just like in the stories!”

Jane and Jules, holding their new board game, insist on a family game night. Jules, gives you a confused look, glancing from the box, and then back up at you. “What is Boggle anyway?” 

“It’s just a word game, sweetheart, definitely an easy game to beat your dad at.” you laugh softly, shooting Joel a teasing grin.

Willow proudly shows you the fluffy stuffed animal she received. “Look Mom, It’s Fluffy! Daddy, feel how soft!” She grabs his hand to place it on the stuffed animal, and Joel enthusiastically plays along with her.

Kylie, engrossed in building her tower with the new blocks, beams with accomplishment. “It’s bigger than me, Mommy!” You smile at her gently, and give her compliments on her tower building skills.

Maggie, in her own little world, squeezes her plush toy and gurgles happily. The kittens, sensing the playful atmosphere, join in on the fun, batting at the discarded ribbons and chasing each other around the room.

Joel, still basking in the warmth of the family scene, leans over to you. “Seems like Santa knew exactly what they wanted.”

You nod, a content smile playing on your lips, ‘And the best part is seeing their faces light up with joy.”

The room is filled with laughter, the sound of wrapping paper being crinkled, and the occasional meow from Ginny and Joel. The chaos is harmonious, a melody of love and togetherness that defines your family.

The kids, their excitement undeterred, start brainstorming plans for the day–games to play, stories to tell, and perhaps a snowball fight if the weather permits. As the festivities continue, you can’t help but feel grateful for the love and warmth that fills your home–a treasure more precious than any gift under the tree.

As the kids reveled in the excitement of unwrapping their Christmas gifts, their attention turned to the chalkboard on the mantle–a poignant memorial to their older sister, Sarah. The room hushed momentarily as the children exchanged thoughtful glances, understanding the significance of the chalkboard.

The kids had put together some artwork and drawings the night before. They gather around the chalkboard, placing their artwork in front of it, creating a beautiful display of love and remembrance. The room, now adorned with their heartfelt tributes, felt infused with a sense of warmth and connection to Sarah’s memory.

Joel, watching from a distance, can't help but be moved by the sincerity and creativity of his children. The simple act of setting their drawings in front of the chalkboard transformed the mantle into a gallery of love—a tangible expression of the enduring impact Sarah's memory had on their hearts.

As the morning continued, the drawings stood as cherished tokens—a beautiful reminder that, even in the midst of joyous celebrations, the love for their sister would always hold a special place in the family's heart.

You nudge Joel gently, catching his attention. “Any Idea when Ellie, Dina, and JJ are planning to arrive?”

Joel looks thoughtful for a moment, his eyes scanning the room to make sure all the kids are engaged in their newfound treasures. “They’re aiming to get here just in time for lunch. Should be any moment now.”

Excitement lights up on your face at the news. “The kids are going to be over the moon to see them again, and It wouldn’t be Christmas without them.”

Joel nods in agreement, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Ellie’s always been good at timing. They’ll be here soon.”

As if on cue, a gentle knock at the door catches your attention. You glance at Joel, both of you sharing a knowing smile. The anticipation in the room heightens as the kids, sensing something special, look toward the door with wide eyes. Moments later, the front door bursts open, and the lively chatter of Ellie and Dina fills the air. The children squeal in delight, dropping their toys and rushing toward the doorway. Ellie enters first, holding JJ’s hand, Dina follows closely behind with a warm grin on her face.

The kids shout at them in unison, enveloping the new arrivals in a sea of hugs and excitement. You and Joel stand back, watching the heartwarming reunion unfold.

Ellie, catching your eye, gives you a knowing nod. “Merry Christmas!” she says as she greets you and Joel. You welcome them with open arms, a surge of joy filling your heart. “We’re so glad you’re here.”

As the laughter and joyful chaos continue to fill the room, you can’t help but marvel at the beautiful tapestry of your family, woven together by love, shared moments, and the bonds that withstand the test of time.

Amidst the joyful commotion, you navigate through the sea of excited children, still cradling little Joelseph in your arms. Joel joins you, and together you watch as Ellie, Dina, and JJ immerse themselves in the holiday cheer.

Ellie, after receiving an enthusiastic welcome from the kids, approaches you with a playful grin.

“How’s the newest little troublemaker doing?” she asks, casting an affectionate glance at Joelseph.

You chuckle, gently rocking the sleeping baby in your arms. “He’s been an angel all morning, surprisingly.” you yawn, tiredly.

Dina joins the conversation, “He’s gotten so big since we last saw him. Mind if we steal him for a bit?”

You nod with a smile, carefully passing Joelseph over to Dina. The little one stirs for a moment, but settles back into a peaceful slumber in Dina’s arms. “He’s all yours.’

The room continues to buzz with giggles and Ellie, Dina, and JJ become a seamless part of the festivities. The kids eagerly show them their new toys, and soon, the kittens, Ginny and Joel join the playful parade.

As the day unfolds, the house becomes a vibrant canvas, painted with the hues of love and togetherness. Joel, now with Aurora on his shoulders, navigates through the lively crowd. You find a quiet moment with Ellie, who is holding Joelseph with a tender smile.

“He’s adorable,” Ellie remarks, her eyes filled with a mix of nostalgia and affection. “Feels like just yesterday you were dealing with my teenage antics.”

You laugh, remembering those not-so-distant days. “Time flies, doesn’t it? Now look at us, and you, with a little family of your own.”

Ellie glances around the room, the sparkle of the holiday lights reflecting in her eyes. “Couldn’t ask for a better way to spend Christmas. And look at Joel, still being the heart and soul of this chaos.”

You follow her gaze to Joel, who is now surrounded by a group of kids, listening intently to one of Jane and Jules’ stories. The love in his eyes is evident as he shares in their laughter and mischief.

Ellie looks back at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You both did an amazing job. I’m proud to be part of this.”

And in that moment, as the laughter and warmth of your family envelop you, you couldn’t agree more. This Christmas, with all its magic, has woven another chapter into the rich tapestry of your lives–a chapter filled with love, laughter, and the cherished moments that make your family truly extraordinary.

As the festivities continue, Ellie, still cradling Joelseph, couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease Joel. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she approaches Joel, who’s now attempting to disentangle himself from a knot of kids.

“Hey, old man,” Ellie quips, giving Joel a playful nudge. “You holding up okay with all these little rascals running around?”

Joel chuckles, a playful glint in his eyes. “Someone’s gotta keep ‘em in check. You’ll find out soon enough, Ellie. Parenthood’s no joke.”

Ellie raises an eyebrow, her gaze shifting to Joelseph. “You’re the expert now, huh? It took you guys long enough to figure out the secret recipe for a baby boy.”

Joel grumbles and feigns offense. “Well, it’s not like we had a manual.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Says the guy who needed a football team's worth of daughters before finally getting a son.”

You join in on the banter, giving Joel an amused smile. “Took a bit of trial and error, but look at our charming little Joelseph now.”

Ellie leans in, bouncing the baby gently in her arms. “Not bad for an old guy, huh, kiddo?” she cooed, earning a content gurgle from the baby.

As the day of joyful chaos begin to wind down, the once lively house now settles into a more serene atmosphere. The twinkling lights of the Christmas tree cast a gentle glow over the living room as the laughter of the children gradually transforms into quiet giggles and yawns.

You and Joel, tired but content, herd the kids upstairs for their bedtime routine. The kittens, Ginny and Joel, follow along, their playful antics slowing down as they, too, sensing the impending calm.

“Alright kiddos, time for bed.” Joel announces, his tone gentle but firm as he ushers the kids into their respective rooms.

The procession of bedtime rituals unfold–one by one, teeth are brushed, pajamas are put on, and stories are read. The younger ones nestle into their beds, eyelids growing heavy with the sweet fatigue of a day filled with excitement.

As you check on each child, offering goodnight kisses and tucking them in, Joel moves gracefully through the house, turning off the twinkling lights and closing curtains. The house seems to exhale, the echoes of joyous laughter replaced by the hushed whispers of bedtime.

In the quiet moments between putting the kids to bed, you found Joel in the hallway, sharing a look of satisfaction passing between you. The day had been a whirlwind of love and joy, and now the peaceful hush settles over the house like a comforting blanket.

“Another Christmas for the books,” Joel remarks, his voice low.

You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “And many more to come, I hope.”

The two of you continue the nightly routine, gently closing doors and ensuring the house was ready for the calm of night. The soft glow of the light spilling from your bedroom illuminates your path as you and Joel make your way into the room, where little Joelseph lay sleeping in his bassinet.

Joel pauses by the doorway, his eyes fondly watching the baby. “He’s been the best gift, hasn’t he?”

You nod, a warmth settling in your heart. “The best, indeed.”

The day had been a symphony of chaos and joy, a beautiful crescendo that had now found its resolution in the quietude of the evening. As you and Joel retire to your room, you can’t help but reflect on the blessings of family, love, and the precious moments that make Christmas truly magical.

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[staybabblingbaby]

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.1 (Dahlia) a2 d5

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 5,368

Notes: My friend Tiny said this was very Wattpad era of me, so I'm so sorry that I'm cringe, guys. She also said she loved it and I am also p satisfied w it, so. Celebrations! It's also fucking long for me, like damn. Chill. I do have some disclaimers abt this tho. 1) I have never been to a k-pop concert, I am doing my best working off of what videos, vlogs, blogs, and Quora and Reddit answers for this. I'm very sorry if it's horribly inaccurate. Also it's idealized so it'd gonna be inaccurate 2) Covid never happened in this universe! Send-offs for everyone!

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader, sort of dissociating? ish?

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part

“Yes, Ma, I promise I’m doing just fine,” You grunt into your phone, tucking the device between your cheek and shoulder as you juggle your groceries and try to dig out your keys, “No one has tried to mug me, I’m eating well, and the job is the same as the last time you called.”

You manage to both open your door and kick it shut as your mother replies, “I just worry about you dear. You’re so far away from us now, what if you need help?”

You waddle to your kitchen counter to offload your burdens, stretching your cramping fingers out as you go to properly hold your phone again.

“I know, Ma, but I’m sure I’ll make some friends with time and then they can help me out.” you finally reply with a sigh. You begin the arduous task of actually putting your groceries away, resigned to the fate of a functional adult.

You hear your sister bark out a laugh in the background. It’s possibly about hearing ‘you’ and ‘friends’ in the same sentence (Which, ouch. True, but ouch). You magnanimously ignore her.

“Honey, I love you, but it’s been almost a year. You have yet to tell me about a single friend.” Your Mom retorts. Again, ouch.

“I have Taylor!” You defend, slamming your fridge shut with a pout.

“Your roommate doesn’t count!” Your little sister taunts from the background. You hear your mother shush her but her agreement is implied when she doesn’t correct the little gremlin.

“He so does!” You argue, “We hang out in contexts that are not work or school, we eat meals together, and we’re even going to a concert this weekend! That’s friends! That’s best friends, even.” You sound a bit pathetic even to yourself, but the day your sister wins over you is the day you die.

“That’s a friendly roommate,” Is your sister’s amused response, “I bet you don’t even know what his favorite color is.” Your silence is answer enough, and she cracks up, laughing so hard that you hear a muted thump as she falls off of whatever furniture she’d been occupying.

Guess you’re dying today.

Your mother changes the subject to the goings-on of your hometown while your sister asphyxiates in the background. You’ve only been away for a little under a year now, but as you listen to her talk about which of your littlest cousins are starting school and which of your relatives are causing drama, you realize that it’s already been a little under a year.

You flop onto your couch as your mom babbles away, holding back an existential crisis.

Your fingers begin tracing the long-since memorized lines of your soulmark over your clothes as you ponder the passing of time, fully zoned out of your mother’s gossip. Your sister seems to catch on to your long silence, interrupting you mother to pester you into giving her more material to taunt you over.

“What concert are you going to, anyway?” She questions.

“Oh, it’s a K-Pop group called Stray Kids,” You tell her. You can practically feel her interest shrivel up and die as soon as you say K-Pop, bless her elitist, snobby, little heart. “Taylor likes them a lot, and his boyfriend dumped him last month, so I got some good tickets to cheer him up.”

Your mother coos at you briefly before your sister overtakes the conversation again, “Are they even good?” You can hear the sneer in her voice as she falls into Music Snob (tm) mode, so you roll your eyes when you reply.

“They’re fun to dance to when I’m doing chores, so that’s good enough for me.”

“You can’t even understand them.” She complains.

“I can, actually.” You inform her primly, “My language elective was Korean. I took the whole course.”

“You’re a weirdo.”

“Tell that to my sweet, sweet, degree, kiddo.” It’s finally your turn to taunt.

“Whatever, you’re not even going with a friend, just your roommate. How fun could it be?” She pouts back.

“I told you, we are friends! Best friends, even!”

“You still don’t know his favorite color.” She retorts smugly.

“I know his favorite flower, that’s gotta count for something!” Your mother hums in agreement, and you picture her watching your bickering like a tennis match, assigning points in her head.

“It doesn’t, because you know everyone’s favorite flower! You know the mail guy’s favorite flower! It’s like an obsession.” You picture your sister rolling her eyes at you, exasperation pouring off of her. The image makes you grin as you reply.

“Only if it’s still Jim. I haven’t been around to ask anyone new.” You point out. Reasonably, you think, but for some reason your sister lets out a loud groan of annoyance and you hear her exaggerated stomps ass she removes herself from your presence. Your mother lets out an amused little huff and you imagine you’ve won the tennis match in her head.

No death for you today. Score!

Your mom yaps with you for a little longer, before finally bidding you farewell, telling you that you should call more often (like you don’t chat literally every Friday afternoon like clockwork), tell your dad to come home soon if you happen to call him (you won’t. He won’t either), and tell her all about how the concert goes next week. You promise to do that one easily.

When she hangs up, you’re left with the ringing silence of an empty apartment. Moving to LA has been a quieter experience than you’re used to in general, for many reasons. Sure, the city itself is louder than your little suburb by miles, but life has been... More peaceful, since. Quieter.

It still makes you uneasy, even 10 months later.

You get up from the couch and drift off to your room like a ghost, opening Spotify on your way. The opening notes of Ruth B’s Lost Boy and a something nauseous swirling in your gut is all that follows you.

On concert morning, you’re woken up bright and early by your air-horn of a roommate slamming your door open.

“Concert daaaaaaaaay~” He trills at you from the doorway. You don’t even open your eyes when you roll over and throw a pillow at him in protest. A soft ‘oof’ tells you that you hit your mark for once. Nice.

“Nice shot!” Taylor cheers, “But now I have your ammo, so it’s up time.”

You roll over again, taking the edge of your blanket with you and tossing it over your head. You pull a stuffed animal under with you, and curl tightly around it.

“Nmf gmf.” You grumble at him through a mouthful of fluff.

“Nuh-uh!” Taylor tuts, already fluent in Morning Grumble, “We gotta get up. There’s food to be eaten, outfits to put on, and lines to beat!”

You let out a long, agonized, groan, but obligingly roll over and starfish out with childish protest. Taylor waits until you open your eyes to glare at his annoyingly cheerful blond bedhead before he leaves your doorway with a sunny smile. Smug bastard.

He leaves your door open too, the shit, allowing the sweet smell of french toast and eggs to drift into your room. You sit up with a whiney groan, scrubbing harshly at your face.

You’d forgive him this time. Just for the french toast.

You lean over to grab your phone from your bedside table, just waking the screen to check the time. When the numbers register you lay right the way back down with another long wail of protest.

Four in the morning. That french toast had better be fucking good.

You eventually stumble into the kitchen and are promptly handed a very large and very welcomed cup of coffee. Taylor hands you a plate piled high with french toast and eggs, fruits and toppings already out, before you can even try to start bitching at him.

You take in the spread with a furrowed brow, before slowly lifting your head to pin Taylor with a suspicious stare.

“My dude, it is four in the morning. How?”

Taylor just shrugs at you. “Couldn’t sleep. Too excited.”

You nod slowly at him. “I’ll drive. You’re napping in the car.”

This triggers a round of outraged whining from your sleep-deprived roommate, which you cull by pointing out that headaches and concerts are an awful combo. He subsides but insists he’ll be even more excited in the car, since it’s closer to concert time. You tell him to do it anyway.

“Why are we up so early in the first place?” You complain as you drain the last dregs of your drink. “The concert isn’t for, like, fifteen hours.”

“The concert is only fifteen hours away! Countdowns have already started, mark my words!” Taylor counters, “You got us Soundcheck tickets! VIP! We have to take advantage! I want the entire experience. Freebies, insane merch lines, sponsor booths, everything.” He gets more and more incensed as he goes on, leaning farther over the table, his shirt almost dragging in the puddles of syrup on his plate.

You raise your hands in surrender to his wild-eyed look. “Whatever,” You concede, “You’re the boss, this is your day.”

Taylor nods in satisfaction, leaning back. You notice that he actually does take some syrup with him as he re-seats himself. “As it should be.” Is his prim reply.

You sort of just laugh at him, and your routine of friendly bickering continues as the two of you make quick work of fixing up the kitchen.

You two split off to get ready, Taylor demanding a leave time of 6am sharp. You do your best to appease him, dressing up enough to say you put effort in, but paying mind to comfort over style. You’re putting the last touches on your eye liner when Taylor barges in.

You give him a stink eye for not knocking, which he blissfully ignores as he looks over you top to bottom. He summarily declares you “Good, but not good enough” and stampedes over to raid your closet.

At this point in your cohabitation you’ve learned to just let him do his thing when he gets like this. He doesn’t let you dress yourself when you go clubbing with his friends either, the jerk. Your fashion sense is perfectly acceptable, thank-you-very-much.

He tells you you’re being assigned a bias for today based on your wardrobe as he tosses you a white and navy stripped polo shirt and some navy sweatpants with racer strips on the side. He pulls up a reference photo on your phone and tells you to accessorize while he goes to find an appropriate tie from his stash for you.

Looking at the picture of Han Jisung on your screen, you admit that the outfit is pretty close already. You decide to leave the polo’s buttons undone, grabbing a white camisole to put on under. Your accessories take a bit longer, and you can’t see the shoes to match those, but Taylor seems satisfied enough when he comes back.

He hands you a tie and a handful of pins to complete your look and begins pushing you out the door before you can even put them on properly. When you protest this he insists that the two of you are running late, despite the concert still being more than 13 hours away.

You do, in fact, make him sleep in the car. He does not appreciate this, but early morning traffic can lull even the most dutiful of soldiers to sleep. He’s somehow even more chipper than usual when he wakes up, despite being groggy and bleary-eyed.

The crowd, when the two of you arrive, isn’t as big as you were expecting it to be. With all of Taylor’s rushing, you’d expected to barely be able to see the doors. The merch booth he was so excited about isn’t even open yet, and he settles the two of you into the line to enter the venue instead of camping there.

It’s immediately obvious who the extrovert between the two of you is, Taylor’s bouncy blond head beginning to duck and weave among the small crowd as soon as you claim your spot, laughs and excited exchanges popping up wherever he stopped. You, on the other hand, stay exactly where you’d been left and fiddle around on your phone, Taylor’s clear backpack abandoned in your arms.

You’re pretty sure this is purposeful on his part. You know each other well enough by now that he’s well aware of your tendency to stay planted once you’re settled. You’re definitely being used to stake out your spot. You steal one of his granola bars as payment for your services.

An hour or so drags through, and Taylor has thoroughly befriended most of the people around you. Once he’s decided that it’s about time to line up for some of the merch booths, Taylor leaves you in the tender care of the other fans as he goes to stake out a spot. He gracefully accepts both your wallet and your request of “a t-shirt and something they can sign”

The group of four people behind you, in particular, take his (only semi-joking) request of “take care of my introvert for me” seriously.

“So are you a Han bias?” One asks you as Taylor prances off. Her outfit is majority blue, little Bbokari (You can admit that the little characters charm you. You probably know their names better than the Stray Kids themselves) hair clips and keychains decorating her person.

You look down at yourself and then back up at her, almost having forgotten that you were dressed up as him. “Ah, no. Taylor, my friend, dressed me this morning. We’re here for him today. Though, he did say Han was my assigned bias today.” You laugh nervously, hoping they don’t judge your lack of knowledge.

Thankfully none of them seem discouraged by your response, giggling along with your little joke. In fact one of them, dressed head to toe in merch, seems almost excited by the prospect.

“Are you a baby Stay then?” She asks you with sparkling eyes. You wave your hands in front of yourself a bit defensively.

“Ah, no. I wouldn’t go that far. I like their music when Taylor plays it around the apartment, but I wouldn’t consider myself part of the fandom. This is actually my first k-pop experience in general.” You explain, “When I say we’re here for him, I mean I am here in total ignorance.”

Another girl, dressed in a loud assortment of colors you vaguely recognize from the music video Taylor had on loop in your living room for a week and a half when it dropped, lets out a low whistle. “Throwing you right into the deep end, huh? Hardcore.”

The group of you laugh a bit, the only guy in their group agreeing with, “Well if you’re not a fan now, you will be when you leave. Their performances are amazing, honestly.”

You absorb the gushing with an open heart, truly hoping for that to be the case. You take this opportunity to take the spotlight off of yourself.

“Oh, have you guys been to a Stray Kids concert before? It’s Taylor’s first.”

That question is the key to the floodgates, and you end up spending the next 3 and a half hours waiting for Taylor’s return (with text updates from the man himself, assuring you that he is still where he’s supposed to be) being regaled with tales of concerts, events, and comebacks past. You feel a bit like you’re getting a crash course in all things Stray Kids, phones often popping out to show you clips, fancams, and photos.

It makes you smile, feeling very included and welcomed as you occasionally pepper in a question or two to keep them going. It’s just like dinners at the apartment with Taylor, him unloading his stress through fandom, and you unloading yours through listening to his ramblings.

This is exactly why you came with him today.

Taylor makes his return loaded down with goodies both purchased and gifted by other fans, to which you welcome him by cheering loudly. This triggers your new group to do the same. Somehow, the five of you cheering leads to a large portion of the early crowd, which had grown by the hour, cheering with you.

You feel a bit shy at the power you apparently hold, and laugh about it with your new friends.

Eventually Taylor and Merch Girl (you hadn’t managed to catch any of their names, you realize belatedly. It’d be too awkward to ask now. You resolve to simply Not Address Them) split off to do more rounds among other fans, distributing their own freebies.

You hadn’t even realized Taylor had made freebies. You’re also not sure how he found the time. Love finds a way, you suppose.

The other group’s Token Guy Friend (who will always been Token Guy to you, so sorry Token Guy) passes the conversation back to you. Not appreciated, Token Guy.

You can’t be all that mad though, as he shuffles through his bag to produce a piece of paper and a chisel-tipped sharpie. He passes the items to you with a grin.

“If you’re close to the stage you should have a sign! You might get an interaction that way!” He enthuses. The remaining girls cheer at the idea, sighing over the possibility of you getting an interaction at your very first concert.

You hold back correcting them that it’s just your first k-pop concert. You’re sure that’s what they mean anyways, as the experience so far has been quite different from your usual.

You look at the items in your hand, and then back at him. He offers to let you use his back to write on. You once again stare between his meticulous outfit and the sharpie in your hand. You are so not going to ruin someone’s day with what was supposed to be a kind gesture.

You motion for him to wait a moment and dig around in your own bag for a moment, the seat cushion Taylor had insisted you bring slapping you incessantly from where it hangs as you shuffle both your shoulder bag and Taylor’s backpack around. Eventually you manage to pull out your travel first aid kit, pulling a gauze pad from it.

You unclip the seat cushion from your bag and place it on the ground, motioning for Token Guy to kneel. He does so bemusedly.

“I’m gonna make it fancy,” You inform him, “those random calligraphy classes from high-school aren’t going to fail me today.” He makes a noise of assent and you’re crowding over his bent back, unfurling the gauze pad to make a barrier between the paper and his shirt.

He and the girls make their conversation around you as you sink into concentration. It’s very difficult to make nice, even, lines on an uneven surface like a back, and you have to keep gently slapping Token Guy’s shoulder when he laughs to remind him not to move.

Taylor and Merch Girl have returned by the time you finish your sign, Taylor laughingly cautioning any of them from breaking your concentration for anything less than Token Guy’s health. Unless they wanted to face your Wrath(tm), of course.

His advice seems to have been heeded, because by the time you tune back into the outside world you have a sign with very pretty (and most importantly - legible) calligraphy that reads:

[HAN! You’ve been assigned as my bias today! Make me fall for you?]

You even took the time to add Korean translations in smaller script beneath each line. You also take the time to admire your own foresight for laying out the gauze pad, small black marks littering it’s surface. Token Guy seems equally impressed when he looks at it, before taking the initiative to trash both it and the wrapper for you.

Merch Girl reads your sign when you proudly hold it in front of yourself and cackles.

“So that’s why he really brought you along, huh?” She teases, elbowing Taylor like they’re old friends. He has that effect on people. “She can talk to them for you if the Aussie line isn’t around.” Taylor gives a sheepish laugh and a faux-guilty shrug.

“That, and she bought the tickets. I couldn’t leave her behind if I tried.” He pokes at you as he speaks, mirth dancing in his eyes. Laughter erupts around the group as you shout your offence, making to start roughhousing with him like you do your sister.

The time passes joyously this way until the doors finally open to begin letting people in for sound check.

You’re not gonna lie, you’re already super tired and peopled out. Luckily, Taylor had clocked you flagging before even you had, and sent you to sit in “introvert time out” on your cushion in a shaded spot away from the crowd. So you could make it through sound check and the actual concert. Probably.

You and Taylor pass through security unscathed, having already eaten or trashed any snacks or drinks you’d brought with you, and having not bothered bringing much else. Both of your bags were just full of merch and freebies at this point.

Once you actually enter the venue you take the lead, dragging Taylor by the wrist to your seats. You’re actually super excited to show him the seats you’d gotten, having kept anything beyond ‘soundcheck’ a secret.

Taylor is already vibrating with excitement as you lead him to the floor seats. He’s nearly trembling as you lead him right up the center, past rows and rows of little white chairs erected for the reserved seating tickets. When you finally sit him down right in front of the thrust stage, plopping into the seat beside him with satisfaction, he turns to you with saucer-wide eyes.

“Noo...” He whispers.

“Oh, yes.” You return, blessing him with a grin and little eyebrow wiggle.

Taylor basically tackles you in a hug, almost knocking you into the person next to you, and squeals his thanks so loudly that you’re sure the entire stadium hears. When he’s done thanking you he pulls back, hands on your shoulders, with the most deadly serious eyes you had ever seen on him.

“I would die for you.” He intones lowly. You crack first, the two of you breaking into a giggle fit that was almost concerning with it’s intensity. When the two of you calm down and turn to settle and sit properly, he nudges your shoulder with his.

“Seriously,” He says, eyes soft, “You’re the best ever. You need anything from today on? I’m your guy.”

You chuckle at him, nudging him back, “Do my dishes for the next month, then.” You tease.

He rears back, hands up in joking surrender, “Woah, woah! Let’s not go that far! I meant if you needed to escape from the mob or something, not chores.” He gives an exaggerated shudder before breaking into his usual silly grin.

The two of you spend the next however long indulging in familiar banter, waving at the group of fans you’d made friends with outside when you spotted them not terribly far away, and generally recharging your batteries for the concert. Taylor eventually moves on to talking to the people around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

You close your eyes for just a moment, trying to turn the lights off in your brain for a bit. You really needed the music to start soon, you were going to fall asleep.

Almost as if in answer to your prayers, the group begins trickling on stage for sound check.

To be honest, both soundcheck and the concert pass in a blur for you.

Once things kick off, you’re swept away in a wave of cheers, music, and lights. You hadn’t expected front row seats to be quite as intense as they were, but you made a note to yourself to not book such tickets for yourself in the future.

You couldn’t really handle it.

Still, Taylor seems to have the time of his life, and you manage to immerse yourself in the concert enough to shake your sign at Han when he passes by, earning yourself a wink and a cheek heart. Taylor was nearly euphoric at having caught the interaction with his phone camera.

By the time it’s over, you’re fairly sure you had a good time, but also 100% sure that you were completely overwhelmed. Taylor manages to drag you to the send off that you paid for spots at anyway. Curse his charming, sunny demeanor.

You can’t really process how it happened at this point, but you end up practically pinned to the railing of the barricade at the send-off location, separated from Taylor, and clinging to your façade of an excited fan with a white knuckled grip. You have three things on you to get signed, and a mission from Taylor to get all three scribbled on.

Your sign for Han, a ballcap Taylor had customized, and a Lee Know photocard Taylor had entrusted to you with a gravity you weren’t sure it warranted. He had, like, three of the same one.

You try to drum up the determination to see your mission through, but find it difficult to dredge up any will at all.

Time waits for no man, however, and soon enough the members begin making their way through, delivering high-fives, autographs, and aegyo as they pass through. You end up squished almost violently to the railing, ducking a bit and making yourself as small as possible as hands, phones, and items all get waved around and over you.

You’re not sure you like send-off.

There’s so many noises and sights and smells that you have a really hard time keeping track of which member is where. Plus, you’re still a lot overwhelmed from lining up before dawn and the concert itself. You’re tired, you’re cranky, and you want to go home.

At some point Lee Know must pass by you, and you must have presented the photocard properly, because you have a signed one now. That’s cool. The faster you get the requested autographs, the faster you can leave.

Bangchan spawns in front of you from the aether, from your point of view. You may be a bit more out of it than you’d like to admit. Still, you dutifully hold out your ballcap for him to sign, exchanging post-concert niceties on pure autopilot.

Because you’re not all that present at the moment, or maybe because all you’d had was your breakfast and some granola bars in the last 13 hours, you don’t hold your balance the way you should when someone shoves at you from behind. You catch yourself on the railing, but you dropped the freshly signed cap.

Bangchan kindly stoops to pick it up for you, and you thank him. A couple of things happen very quickly at that point.

1) Unlike the first two exchanges of the cap, because of the awkward and quick nature of Bangchan’s action, it is no longer being handed to you with lots of space between your hand and his.

2) You’re still being jostled around. No matter how much you brace for the impact of the bodies surrounding you, you couldn’t possibly keep totally still.

3) These two things have a consequence. Your hand brushes Chan’s as he hands you the cap.

The world stops for you for a moment, as pins and needles stab into dozens of familiar spots all across your lower abdomen. You freeze, dumb, awkward, overwhelmed smile plastered to your face as Bangchan turns away from you.

The pain isn’t that bad, really, more like a bad period cramp mixed with a sleeping limb waking up. Still, you curl your arm around your stomach, and your body bows with the motion. As if you could protect your reality from shattering and reshaping itself in front of you.

Static fills your ears and your poor, overloaded, brain throbs with the beginnings of a migraine.

Bangchan is your soulmate.

International k-pop sensation Bangchan is one of your eight soulmates.

Bangchan is part of a group with eight members.

Your soulmate is already moving away from you, your minor interaction just a footnote of his day, the tingling pain of your soulmate bond awakening probably blending in with a thousand other minor aches and pains from a very physically intense day for him.

You come back to clarity with the resolve that you’d like it to stay that way.

With a sense of urgency, you look around the crowd you’re part of, noting distinct faces and colors for the first time. You’re not really sure what you’re looking for until you spot it, and suddenly your escape plan is fully formed.

There, just a couple shoves and elbow throws away, is Blue Bbokari Girl from this morning.

You struggle your way over, people falling into the space you’d left at the railing like a pack of hyenas on fresh meat. When you reach her you the gently at her sleeve to get her attention.

She turns to you with confusion first, a bright greeting next, and finally a concerned scrunch of her brow as she takes in your hunched form.

“Hey, I’m feeling kind of sick, can you help me get out of the crowd?” You’re sure you look convincingly pathetic and weak as you plead with her. If only because you really did feel pathetic and weak at the moment.

“Oh, of course, hun! Just a moment.” She begins to crane her neck around to scan the crowd like you’d done moments prior. You feel a bit bad for interrupting her night like this, but as she calls out to someone behind her, you’re more thankful than anything.

Blue Bbokari Girl successfully gets the attention of someone you don’t recognize, and a quick summary of, “She’s sick, help her leave!” shouted over the crowd has you being passed through the crowd unmolested.

You find yourself enveloped in a chain of fans, one passing you to another, pausing, and calling on someone else to pass you to until you’ve finally stumbled free of the send-off mob.

Feeling a bit like you’d just been spat out of the maw of a great creature, you look back at the rustling crowd, now looking like it had never been disturbed at all.

The last lady who had finally freed you, an older woman with a Jiniret picket, eyes you with concern as you put you back to the nearest wall and slide down it.

“Will you be okay, sweetie?” She questions you worriedly, “Do you have anyone to pick you up?”

You smile weakly at her and assure her that you just have to get ahold of your roommate and he’d get you home safe and sound. She tries to insist on waiting with you, but you persuade her to return to the crowd with promises that you’d make your way to a bathroom or security guard once the worst of your vertigo had passed.

You watch her return with morbid fascination, amazed when she just sort of gets absorbed back into the mass of people. Almost like it ate her. You once again marvel at making it out of such a thing unscathed.

Truth be told, your stomach was only sore and tender this point, the sharp, needle-point pains long gone. Still, you take a moment to bring your knees to your chest, just breathing as you press your forehead to them. If anyone were to look at you then, you wonder what they’d think of you curled up on the floor and trembling like your dog had just died.

You hope they’d view you with kindness.

After giving yourself a moment to just feel, though you couldn’t tell anyone what you had felt, you gather yourself enough to totter to your feet and drag yourself to the nearest bathroom. You text Taylor as you go.

[Hey. Felt sick, in bathroom rn. lmk when we can leave pls?]

Perma Tag List: @mbioooo0000

[haikyu-mp4]

Two jobs, part 2

word count; 1107 – set a few years after part 1, reader and Osamu are married and the three of you live together. I gave your son a name, Kazuo, to make writing easier

You were away on a business trip and left your two favourite guys to take care of each other for a few days. Luckily, you didn’t have to do this often, but you were relieved they got along so well that you could. Even though Kazuo grew attached to Osamu in a way before you two even started dating, it had been an adjustment for all of you after you got married and moved in together, especially because your son was at his most difficult age.

Currently, Kazuo sat on a bar chair by the island counter while Osamu made dinner. The two would often hang out in the kitchen together, because Kazuo liked spending time with Osamu when he had an excuse for it. He also found it hilarious when he asked his stepdad for help with his homework and Samu got frustrated because he didn’t understand it either. It was a peaceful connection they had, and you usually did your best to let them have their time in the kitchen to themselves even when you were home.

“Hey, look at this.” Osamu said to catch his attention. When Kazuo looked up, he did some weird juggling trick with the pepper shaker before adding the necessary seasoning to the soup he was making. Then he did the same with the salt to show it wasn’t a fluke. “Am I cool, or what?” It was meant as a joke, but there was a hopeful look in his eyes.

Kazuo made a face. “Uhh… yeah.” he said, which was an obvious lie, making Osamu deflate. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt particularly sensitive about it all of a sudden. Perhaps it had something to do with the difference of how Kazuo looked when he got to play volleyball with his twin compared to how he politely declined lately when Osamu asked him if they should do some passes in the garden.

“Do you not think I’m cool?” he asked after a long silence, leaning one hand on his hip while the other stirred the soup to make sure it didn’t stick to the bottom.

“Not like Tsumu.” Kazuo answered honestly without thinking about it, eyes on his homework so he didn’t notice his stepdad’s face scrunching up. If he thought he felt sensitive before, that one hit the spot for sure. “But it’s okay, being a chef is good too.” The boy honestly didn’t think adults cared so much about being cool.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t take pity on me now.” he said followed by a deep sigh. “Maybe I should cook you instead, you gremlin.” Kazuo just laughed, unknowing of Osamu’s bruised ego. When he turned back to his homework, Osamu pulled his phone out and opened messages, sending a simple ‘You’re ugly and stupid’ to Atsumu without context. That made him feel a little better, at least. You bet he’ll call you that night before bed for some reassurance. And to remind you that he loves you, of course.

Sometimes, Kazuo was allowed to go to parties in exchange for sharing his location at all times while he was away with whichever parental figure was home at the time. Usually, the parties were alright. Typical underage parties where someone had stolen a few beers from a parent and they all tasted it before looking disgusted and swearing to never drink it again. He would be picked up at the agreed time with a few complaints of how lame you were for setting those rules, and then he would tell you he loved you under his breath before going to bed.

However, they were growing older and that came with engaging in new topics of interest. That’s how Kazuo ended up in a game of seven minutes in heaven that he desperately wanted out of. It’s not like he could just tell them he might prefer guys over girls, he wasn’t even sure yet himself! It was all too much, so he snuck away and pulled out his phone with slightly shaky hands. You’re still on your business trip, and he was starting to miss you even though he would never tell you that. After all, you were the only one he relied on for the first 10 years of his life.

He pulled up his contacts on the old phone you had gifted him, scrolling past your contact until he got to a Miya. Even though he knew Atsumu liked spending time with him, he didn’t seem to have that much spare time anymore. Actually, he probably wouldn’t call Atsumu for an emergency anyways, he realised. Tsumu was more of a cool uncle, like he told Osamu in the kitchen the day before. Now that he was in trouble, he already knew who he had to call.

“Samu…” Kazuo said, voice cracking a little so he pretended to clear his throat.

“What’s up, buddy?” Osamu sounded tired, like he had taken a nap in that recliner he loved to occupy when you weren’t home. If you knew he snoozed off while your boy was at a party, you would not be happy, but at least he picked up the phone.

“Can you come pick me up?” he asked not too loudly, frowning at the floor. “I’m okay, I just want to go home.” He tried to sound tough and chill, but it didn’t fool Osamu.

“Sure, I’ll head out now. Go outside in about 15 minutes but not before. Actually, stay inside until I’m there.” Kazuo chuckled a bit at Osamu’s short ramble where he corrected himself, then he hummed in confirmation and hung up. So he told his friends he was feeling under the weather and went outside when Osamu came to pick him up.

Kazuo didn’t say much more than “Thanks for picking me up,” and “I don’t want to talk about it,” after getting in the car, and Osamu knew he would rather tell you about it than him, so he didn’t pry.

Instead, he clicked his tongue with a cheeky smile. “You know, the new Star Wars movie just came out for streaming. I won’t tell your mom we stayed up late if you don’t.”

And as he looked to the side where Kazuo fiddled with his hands in the passenger seat wearing a relieved smile, safe because he dared text him for help, Osamu decided that he didn’t need to be cool. He just had to be there.

Even so, his chest bloomed with pride when Kazuo came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth for the night and told him, “Thanks for the movie, Samu. You are pretty cool.”

masterlist

taglist: @miyamizuna, @makkir0ll, @shiratorizawa-can-step-on-me, @sobbing-leave-me-alone-bots, @eeerreehhh, @f4iryk3i, @cosmiicdust, @malikazz243

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [24]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: [18+ only] controlled training combat, self defense lessons, smut (we're finally here, folks), oral female receiving

Word Count: 6,444

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

[a/n: so sorry this took nine thousand years. i probably have more announcements here but i'm bone tired so let's get on with it lolol also lowkey i did not edit this one to the degree in which i should have i am so sorry]

#24: RIGHT BETWEEN YOUR THIGHS

"i'm not sure what this is between us, but i am sure that i don't want it to stop, whatever it is." -j.a. redmerski

What does one wear on a date where combat was the plan? It wasn’t a question you thought you’d ever be asking yourself, yet here you were. After staring at your options for another beat, you grabbed something you’d be able to move in. The more athletic clothing you owned weren’t really the cutest, but your goal with them was focused on utility. You could always save the cute outfit for your part of the date tonight. The idea of impressing Din by being competent on his date and then pretty on yours was appealing to you.

Din was dropping Grogu off with Peli until tomorrow morning. With every second he was gone, you found yourself more nervous. Being with Din was always so easy. That was part of the reason why you fell for him so fast. Having him as a cemented part of your day was natural. So, it made no sense that you would be nervous at all, but it seemed the butterflies in your belly didn’t give a damn about logic.

You wandered back out into the main room of the house and let your eyes glance over the decor you had already set up. The second Din had left the house you had tossed up the decorations. In preparation for tonight, you had food prepped in the fridge for dinner and you had hung string lights all over the kitchen and living room. A blanket was laid out on the floor with a few pillows just for comfort. It was a simple set up and initially it had excited you, but in the time it took for you to get dressed for your combat date your anxiety had grown. What if it were too simple? What if you didn’t know Din as well as you thought you did?

Before you could second guess yourself any further, you hurried out of the house. Din had told you to meet him at the tarmac which caught you off guard. You assumed this would be taking place at least on world. It made you curious as to what he had planned exactly. On your way to the tarmac, you returned the greetings to those who waved to you. A few even tried to stop you to ask about something medical and you had to politely point them toward the clinic where they’d find Aayla. Any other day and you’d linger to help, but you had a Mandalorian waiting for you.

You had only stepped a few feet onto the tarmac when a hand was suddenly in yours and dragging you through rows of parked ships. “Din?” You questioned the shiny, beskar covered man. “Hi to you too, honey.”

“I’ve had three different people try and stop me to ask about one problem or another.” Din grunted.

“Aw,” You chuckled, “I had people try to stop me for medical advice! Look at us. Staples of the community.”

“Today, they need to make do without two staples.”

It had been a surprise when Din pulled you onto the little starship, but you were completely caught off guard when said ship broke through the atmosphere of a small, green world. You gazed out through the glass at the greenery that formed the large jungle you now flew over. He said he was taking you to a nearby, abandoned and uninhabited moon.

“Din…” You breathed in shock. Maker, this no named moon was gorgeous.

“You said you missed seeing the color green.” Din replied simply. Your eyes snapped to him in awe. It had been a toss away comment made quite some time ago. Growing up on Naboo, you had raised with forests and bodies of water. Then you bounced from Coruscant to Tatooine to Nevarro where the ground was non-existent or dry. 

Din steered the ship toward a clearing in the jungle that sat on the edge of a cliff side where you had a view of the never ending trees. It was just shades of green and blue as far as your eyes could see. As soon as the ship was safely parked, you leapt out of your seat and rushed down the now lowering ramp. 

The air was cool and humid. You took in a deep breath and marveled at how the smell of earth and vegetation filled your lungs. Din’s heavy steps came up behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder to give him a broad grin. You were beaming in the reflection of his visor.

“So, this is okay?” He asked with an almost nervous tinge to his voice.

“Okay?” You laughed. “Din, this is…” You shook your head and threw your arms around his neck. Din didn’t hesitate to wrap his own arms around your midsection and hold you close. “Thank you for this.”

“You may want to hold off on thanking me.” Din chuckled in your ear. “We haven’t even gotten to the rest of the date.”

You pulled back with a smirk and held a finger up at him. “I think you mean ‘courting session’.” Din let out a soft laugh before letting his hands fall from your side. You watched curiously as he began to unlatch portions of his armor. Your eyes widened and you glanced around outside the ship as if there would suddenly be a crowd where there hadn’t been one before. “What’re you doing?”

“We’re going to spar.” Din replied simply. “I want to make sure you can defend yourself.”

“And you need to strip down… why?”

Din huffed, “I’m not stripping down. I’m just removing my beskar.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You crossed your arms with a quirk of your eyebrow, “Who says you’re not the one who is gonna get hurt here?” Din laughed while pulling off his chest piece. The laugh was accurate. There was no way in hell you were going to even land a hit on him unless he wanted you to, but you feigned shock and disbelief. “Wow. How smug of you, Mandalorian.”

Din tilted his helmet at you in a ‘really?’ manner while pulling his cloak off. It left him in just his dark brown flight suit and you shouldn’t have found the plain outfit as attractive as you did. You continued to stand there and stare with a smile as he pulled off his gloves and kicked off his boots. Din set his hands on his hips, and you motioned toward his clothes. “Feel free to keep going. I won’t mind.”

“Alright, enough.” Din chuckled and set his hands on your shoulder. He turned you around and lightly pushed you out of the ship. You laughed under your breath and once you stood where he wanted in the field by the ship, he let his hands drag down to your hips. You expected him to spin you to face him, but instead he just took a step closer. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose at the feel of his chest against your back. In a softer voice, he leaned his head closer to the side of yours. “How much self-defense do you know?”

“Oh, you know, the basics.” You mumbled with a little shrug. If you had to quantify the self defense you knew it would probably add up to less than the basics. Suddenly, before you could even blink, Din’s right arm wrapped around your neck in a choke hold. Your eyes widened and your hands lifted to grip the crook of his elbow to try and pull him away. “Dank farrik!”

Din flexed his arm enough for you to feel it but it wasn’t cutting off your air flow. You felt nervous for a whole other reason. His helmet was pressed against the side of your face in this hold, and he was so close that you could hear the slight static hum of his modulator. “Escape me, ner kar’ta.” You swallowed nervously and tried uselessly to tug Din’s arm away from your throat. He chuckled and you tried to kick his legs but even when you did make contact he didn’t budge. “You can do better than that.”

You thrashed your shoulders with a grunt, but he locked his grip. Din lifted you up so your toes only barely brushed the ground and began to drag you backwards. You yelped in surprise and rapidly tapped against his arm⏤ the universal sign for giving in.

Din set you back down and loosened his arm to hold you by the arms, “You alright?”

“Yeah, I am.” You replied. “I just didn’t see myself getting out of that anytime soon.”

He chuckled and slipped his arm back where it had been. Din nudged you and your hands went back to the crook of his elbow. “Step one foot forward.” You stepped out with your left foot. “And use your other foot to slip to the side and turn around. You wanna⏤”

Without waiting for the rest of his sentence, you tried to slip to his right side, but the second you tried to turn you found his hold around your neck tighter as he pinned you to his side. Din let out a soft laugh, and you beat on his back a bit to try and pull out.

“You slipped out the wrong way.” Din said.

“I noticed, thanks.” You muttered.

Din loosened his hold enough that you could straighten back up. “Try the other way.” You did the same thing, but this time you spun toward the left. Now, you were facing Din’s chest with his arm resting on the back of your neck and shoulders. “Good. Now push me away.” With all your strength, you shoved against Din’s midsection and you stumbled apart. “Very good, ner kar’ta. Again.”

He made you do it a few more times with his arm tighter each pass, and it got easier and more smooth every time you did it. You did it one more time, grinning triumphantly when you pushed him away, but this time Din lunged to grab you. His leg hit the back of yours and you went sprawling back. A cry of surprise left your lips and you braced for the blow of hitting the ground. However, at last minute Din caught you and carefully laid you against the grass the two of you were practicing on.

You opened your mouth to complain, but found your voice missing. Din was straddling you with his knees pressed to the ground on either side of your hip. He held himself up so he was carrying his weight on his knees and not crushing you. The sight of Din towering over you like this made you ache with need. He was right there. You could drag your hands up his thick thighs and to his belt with such ease. If this was affecting him the same way it was you, he didn't show it.

The sound of overhead thunder from distant storm clouds made Din look up as he searched for the source. Seeing your opportunity, you sat up and threw yourself forward to push Din backwards. Caught off guard, he fell back and you threw yourself on top of him. “Ha! I⏤” You didn't register what Din did, his movements were a quick blur of color, and suddenly you were on your back again, “Hey!”

Din grabbed your wrists to pin on the ground by your head. Rather than straddling you, this time he was situated between your legs. Oh, Maker. This was worse in the best kind of way. Din tilted his head, “That was cheating.” 

“Whoops?” You gave him a sheepish smile. Din shifted so his weight was pinning your arms down rather than resting on the back of his calves. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You know, I thought combat meant I was gonna get to punch and kick you more.”

“Should I be worried about how eager you are to punch me?”

You laughed, “Really though.”

“The chances of you being in an actual fist fight is lower than you being placed in a hold.”

“I mean, I’m planning to avoid both of those options.”

“I like that plan, but it’ll help me sleep at night knowing you at least know how to free yourself.” Din replied with a low chuckle. His hands lifted off your wrists to place a light hold on your throat. Your chin tilted up, making room for his large hands, and your reflection in his visor showed you that you were not hiding how badly you wanted him. Din didn’t apply any more pressure than the light hold he already had on you, but he did lower his face closer to yours, “You think you can focus and get out of this hold before we get rained out?”

You squirmed under him, hips shifting against his, and you felt his body stiffen. A slow smile crossed your face as you moved your hips more deliberately this time. Din let out a soft grunt, and you chuckled, “Guess that depends. You think you can teach me how without getting distracted?”

“Wayii, ner kar’ta.” Din murmured. He lifted a hand off your neck to grab your right hand and set it on the wrist of the hand still pretending to choke you. “Hold here and…” Din set your other hand on his left shoulder. “With this hold, you’re gonna pivot out from under me and put me in an arm bar.”

“Um, sure.” You said skeptically.

Din nodded to your left leg, “Put that foot against my hip so you can lift your other. You need it across my shoulder blades.” You tried to do as he said and it forced your hips up from the ground in a position that felt unnatural. “Good, good. Now that foot on my hip? Lift it and throw it over my head so both your legs are resting on my same shoulder.” With a grunt you did just that and it left the arm you had been holding trapped between your arms. Naturally, the hand that was on his shoulder fell to hold his wrist and you pushed your hip back down to the ground and it forced Din onto his back as you straightened your body. “Good, that’s⏤ah!” He tapped the thigh laying on his throat. “Good.”

 You let go of him, but the moment you did he was on top of you once more. You cried out, startled, but Din had his hands at your throats. “Again. Faster.” 

He squeezed just enough to get you moving. You followed his instructions, trying to remember each step, and you successfully got him into another arm bar. You let go of his arm so you weren’t accidentally hurting him, but you kept your legs where they were. One rested over his neck, right under his helmet, and the other on his lower chest. His arm bent so he could rest his hand on your thigh and he gave it a playful squeeze. 

Din began to laugh and the sound was so relaxed, so boyish, that it brought a warm smile to your face. You sat up, leaning back on your hands, and stared down at him. His entire body was relaxed as he lazily dragged his hand back and forth on your thigh.

“This position can’t possibly be comfortable.” You teased.

Din’s helmet turned to look back at you. “Ner kar’ta, I could spend the rest of my life right here.” He squeezed your thigh again and chuckled. “Right between your thighs.” Your face grew warm at his words and Din rubbed your leg. “You’re doing so good. Making me proud.”

You bit down on your bottom lip and watched as a drop of water plinked against Din’s helmet. Then there was a second, then a third, and then you and Din were in a downpour. You pulled your legs off him and the two of you scrambled off the ground and back to the cover of the ship. 

“Just… Just give it a minute or two.” Din stood at the edge of the cover so he could peer up at the now dark sky. “It’ll pass.” The clouds had rolled in quick and sudden, but they lingered. A full ten minutes passed and Din stood in his frustrated dad pose at the end of the ramp. You wandered down to stand beside him. He sighed, “I'm so sorry. If I had known it was going to rain I would’ve taken us somewhere else.”

“Din, this place is perfect.”

“It’s storming.”

“Yeah, but,” You set your hand on his arm, “We’re together.” Din turned his head to glance at you. “That’s all that matters.” The tension in his shoulders seemed to melt. You held your hand out to feel the rain against your skin. A thought occurred to you. “When’s the last time you felt the rain on your face?”

Din shrugged, “I fell into the Living Waters.”

“That’s called drowning,” You shook your head, “And it doesn’t count.”

“I took a shower last night.”

“Still not the same.”

He shrugged in response.

You squeezed his arm, “Well, this moon is uninhabited according to you. I can sit in the ship with the ramp up, and give you a second.” He tilted his head in what you assumed was confusion. “Everyone deserves to feel the rain on their face. Just to⏤ to feel alive, and we’re not getting any rain storms in Nevarro anytime soon.”

Din nodded once. You turned to walk back into the ship, but his hand slipped into yours. He squeezed your hand and pulled you out into the rain. You flinched at the first few drops, the cold water startling even knowing it was coming, and on instinct you lifted your head up so the rain splattered across your face. Din’s hand left yours but it was quick to find your skin once more. He cupped your jawline and you tore your gaze from the sky to his visor. His thumb dragged against your cheekbone.

“Close your eyes.” Din whispered.

Without hesitation, you let your eyes fall shut. Din’s hand fell away from your face. You heard the hiss of his helmet followed by the soft thud of heavy beskar landing on soft grass. More than anything in the worlds, you wished you could watch him experience this. Din let out a quiet sigh, close to a soft moan, and your lips twitched up into a smile. A pair of hands cupped your face and your own hands rose to rest on top of his. Din was close⏤ his body radiated heat. The tip of his thumb traced your bottom lip. 

“Gar're bid mesh'la.” Din murmured and he was close enough that you felt his warm breath fan across your mouth. “So beautiful, ner kar’ta.” Warm lips slotted against yours and you breathed Din in. As always, Din kissed you with every part of who he was⏤ every single time was its own unique experience. His hands roamed down your body, never leaving contact, until they found your hips. Din’s lips broke from yours but continued to brush against yours as he sucked in a breath, “I… You’re so important to me.” The hands on your hips slipped up and under your shirt. His touch hot against your cold, damp skin. “Everything, ner kar’ta.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull his lips back against yours. The kiss was bruising. A desperate tangle of teeth and tongue in a attempt to get closer⏤ as if he wasn’t already pinning the two of you chest to chest with his strong arms. The kiss began to simmer in desperation, but the passion remained. Even when it seemed slow as you caught your breath, he continued to lightly press his lips against yours in soft, chaste kisses. As if he couldn’t stand being apart. 

“Din…” You murmured softly. Thunder rumbled overhead. The power of the sound competed with the pounding of your heart. Din nipped at your lower lip before dragging the tip of his tongue against the spot. You let out a soft sigh, and he pulled your lower lips between his own. His hands had slipped out of your shirt so they could instead cup your face and tilt your face at the ideal angle to allow him to continue his onslaught. He dragged his lips across your cheek until they pressed against the skin right under your ear. An involuntary shiver rocketed down your spine and you trembled enough that Din must have felt it.

“I need to get you out of the rain before you catch a cold.” Din mumbled against your skin.

You sighed and when he tried to pull back you trapped him by wrapping your arms around his torso, “That’s an old wives’ tale. Being in the rain doesn’t make you sick.”

“Fine, doc. I need to get you out of the rain before we get struck by lightning.”

“If you want I can make up some statistics about lightning strikes.”

Din chuckled, his chest rumbling with the sound, and you felt him kneel down. You stayed in place until the cool metal of his helmet pressed against your forehead. At the reassuring touch, you let your eyes flutter open. In his visor’s reflection, you saw what a mess you were. Soaked to the bone with swollen lips. You groaned, “Maker, I look like a drowned porg.”

“A very cute, drowned porg.”

You shoved at his chest with a laugh and Din chuckled and began to drag you back toward the ship. The two of you left puddles in the ship and you helped Din get his armor back on. It couldn’t possibly be comfortable with how wet his flight suit was, but he’d be parking in a populated area of Nevarro and couldn’t go without it. 

“I’m sorry we couldn’t do more.” Din said as you sat down in the co-pilot seat.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t you dare apologize for the best first ‘courting session’ ever.”

Din let out a soft laugh and brought the ship up into the air. His hand reached over to rest on your thigh⏤ fingers curling into your skin as his thumb rubbed back and forth. You leaned back in your seat and despite the gorgeous scenery right outside the window, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his form.

There was never a lull in the conversation with Din. Talking to him always came naturally. It made you silly for ever being nervous about your portion of the date in the first place. After getting back to Nevarro, the two of you had gone back home and when Din saw the decor you babbled through an anxious explanation of your plans. He had been delighted at the sound of it. It took no time for the two of you to clean up after the courting session episode. Din traded his armor for a t-shirt and sweatpants, and you had tosses aside the wet work out clothes to put on a simple dress that made you feel cute with buttons down the torso.

Din hovered over you while you made food and helped despite you telling him he didn’t need to. Then, the two of you just enjoyed one another’s company. Back to back, eating dinner, and basking in the glow of the string lights you had hung up.

“This really is so incredible. Thank you.” Din said.

You set aside your bowl with a chuckle, “You don’t have to thank me for that, Din.”

“No, I do. I know this isn’t…” Din paused and there was a tension in his voice you couldn’t quite place. He sighed, “This isn’t typical. I’m sorry I can’t take you to a restaurant in town and sit across from you for a normal meal.”

“Din, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But⏤”

“I don’t care about any of that.” You shook your head. “I’d have every single meal, for the rest of my life, hidden away or in private as long as it meant I got to have them with you. That’s all that matters.”

You felt him begin to turn and immediately shut your eyes with a mumble that he was safe. Din’s fingers found the side of your face and you allowed your body to follow his movements as he pulled you to face him. His lips were on yours again with no preamble or hesitation. It only lasted a brief moment, pure and chaste, before he separated to lean his forehead against yours.

“You’re too good to me.” Din’s voice sounded hoarse as his hand traced the side of your face. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve to be cared about⏤ you deserve to be…” The word ‘loved’ sat on the ip of your tongue, and you only barely caught it in your mouth before it tumbled out. You were confident of how you felt, and you were highly suspicious that Din was on the same page as you, but it was still terrifying to consider saying it out loud. “You deserve this and more, honey.”

“Have I told you how much I enjoy hearing you call me honey?” Din leaned back in and began to pepper kisses across your lower face.

“It’s come up a time or two.” You teased in response. He ghosted up your jawline, his breath hot on your skin, until they wrapped around your earlobe⏤ teeth nipping at it lightly. You couldn’t hold back a soft moan. “Maker, Din.” You felt his chuckle as he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck. Din carefully tilted your chin up and to the side so he could finish his line of kiss down your neck. “Keep this up and I’m… I’m not gonna want to get up, and I have dessert in the fridge for us.”

Din shook his head and dragged his nose up against the column of your neck to find your ear once more, “I have dessert right here, ner kar’ta.” His words, in that deep, honeyed voice, sent shivers down your spine. Want pooled in your belly as you melted into his hands. “Do you trust me?”

“Always.” You murmured. Din pulled away from you and you groaned at the loss. “Wait, no,” Din laughed at your whine and the sound was distant, “Come back.”

“Be patient!”

You heard his approach and felt him as he settled in front of you again. Din was wrapping something around your eyes and tied it behind your head. “That feel, alright?” You nodded in response and adjusted the blindfold to sit comfortably on your face. “Just want you to relax and not worry about accidentally opening your eyes or not. This okay?”

“Only if you start touching me again.” You grinned and tilted your chin up a hair. 

“Oh, mesh’la,” Din was quick to cup your face once more and he pushed you back to settle on the blanket softly, “I’m more than happy to.” You had never been happier in your choice of clothing than now with Din unbuttoning the front of your dress. One large hand cupped your breast while the other stayed wrapped around the back of your neck. Din let out a breathless whisper of Mando’a before adding in Basic, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You shook your head, “I swear to the Maker if you stop I’ll kick your ass.” Din chuckled and shifted so he could rest between your thighs. You accommodated him by letting your legs fall open to rest on either side of his hips. “I know how to do that now since you taught me.”

“Teaching you how to get out of two holds is a little different from kicking ass.” Din replied amused. His hand left your breast and you felt the tips of his fingers brush against the scar along your collarbone. You stiffened slightly⏤ more out of self consciousness rather than discomfort or fear. Din leaned down until his lips pressed against the skin there. “Do you know how beautiful you are, ner kar’ta? Absolutely gorgeous.” You buried your hand in his soft hair, letting out a sigh, and Din kissed your scar twice more before letting his lips taste the skin of your chest. “Breathtaking.”

His mouth found the curve of upper breast. Din was careful as he pulled your bra down and when the cold air met your now bare nipples you gasped. More breathless Mando’a filled the air and only ended when Din’s lips wrapped around your right nipple as his hand held the underside of your other so his thumb could trace lazy circles around that nipple. Din’s tongue circled your sensitive skin and you groaned⏤ hand tightening in his hair. 

The Mandalorian was new to using his mouth, but just like with kissing he was quick to pick it up and passionate about exploring with his tongue. All of his movements were focused and completed with the discipline of a bounty hunter. Even in a situation that was new to him, he used his body with confidence by dedicating to the action. Din’s mouth spent ample time tasting the skin of both your breasts, sucking and licking, and your entire being felt like it was on fire. Every inch of you craved his touch, you were drunk on him and were left a squirming mess under his strong hands. Pinned to the ground under his broad body and blind to everything but the sound, feel, and smell of him. 

“Maker.” You gasped and tugged on his hair. “You’re killing me, honey. It’s…” He let his teeth lightly graze your overly sensitive nipple and your back arched in an attempt to follow his mouth as he pulled up. “Fuck. It’s so much. Too much.”

Din squeezed the breast his mouth wasn’t on and then crawled up just enough to press a soft kiss to your lips, “Sorry.” He hummed and you could hear the smile he was wearing. “Just can’t help myself.” Suddenly, you felt Din’s hand brush against the outside of your leg. It trailed back and forth from your knee to where the edge of your dress laid. You were already an absolute mess but having his warm touch against your thigh was making the need for him a hundred times worse. “Can I taste you, ner mesh’la kar’ta?”

You sucked in a sharp breath nervously. Your teeth bit down on your lower lip briefly. It had been a little while since you had anyone go down on you, and with the way you felt about Din you wanted things to be perfect. The thought of Din not enjoying himself or just feeling obligated haunted your mind and the anxiety dulled the pleasure. “You know you don’t have to do that, right? It’s not⏤”

“Have to?” Din’s fingers squeezed into the meat of your thigh and your hips involuntarily rolled up marginally to find a source of friction to ease the ache in your core. “There is literally nothing I could want more. I cannot even begin to describe how often I’ve thought of this moment right here.” You gave a small, weak nod. He squeezed your thigh once more. “Wanna hear you say it, ner kar’ta.”

“Yes, Din. Want that⏤ want you now.” Your desire beat out any anxiety you may have felt. 

Din crawled down until he could press a kiss to the inside of your knee. His strong arm wrapped around your thigh, settling on his left shoulder, and you found comfort in that hold. You let out a relaxed breath. Din was safe. There was no reason to feel any anxiety in the arms of this man. With that, the anxiety began to ebb away and with every kiss Din laid on the inside of your thigh gradually traveling up the ache worsened.

The edge of your dress was pushed up with his left hand and it splayed across your abdomen. “This is my first time doing this with my mouth, mesh’la. Tell me if I’m hurting you.” Goosebumps formed across your skin at the cool air that now washed over you, but the weight of his hand seemed to burn straight through you. Din’s mouth pressed against your clothed heat. He kissed through your sinfully soaked underwear. 

“Din,” You gasped, your hand refinding his hair, “Fuck. Din.”

His right hand slipped under the side of your underwear to tug them down your thigh. Din kept your right leg on his left shoulder, unmoving, and he hummed, “Knee to your chest, mesh’la.” You did as he asked and he used the movement to slip your left leg out of your underwear. The second you were uncovered, Din groaned, “Good girl.”

He buried his face into your wet folds in desperation. What Din lacked in precision he made up for with eagerness. He mumbled words of Mando’a straight into your pussy between licking long stripes through your lips. Din worked in broad strokes of his tongue, and every few seconds his nose would find your clit. It’d either brush too lightly for you to fully enjoy or press firmly against it and send jolting strikes of pleasure straight up your spine. 

“Din, Din.” You moaned and he pressed in deeper, his tongue circling your hole. He hadn’t come up for air in a bit and you wondered how he managed to keep this up. Regardless, it was driving you wild. “Baby, please.” Din lifted his head and the sound of him panting was unbelievably attractive to you. “Shit, Din.”

“You alright?”

“Yes. Maker, yes, but…” You groaned. “I know you’re probably not meaning to do this, but you’re teasing me and it’s got me right on the edge.” Din shifted, you heard him chuckle, and before you could try to explain to him what you meant specifically when it came to his mouth, his thumb dragged through your folds up and straight to your clit. He circled it with insane precision and your mouth fell open in a silent cry as the arousal pooling in your lower belly grew and the ache almost sent you over the edge. “Maker! Din!”

Din pulled his thumb away and you were breathless. He placed a chaste kiss to your thigh where he could reach, “I’m not that unfamiliar with it, ner kar’ta. I told you I've used my hands.”

“Gotcha. So you were teasing me on purpose?” You scoffed and Din chuckled. You tugged on his hair and his breathy laugh grew louder. You grinned and shook your head. “You ass.”

“How about I make it up to you?” Din’s lips were back on you and this time he wasn’t just broadly tasting you. His precision had turned deadly and it was devastating how fast he drove you right back to that edge. “Taste so fucking sweet, mesh’la.” His tongue circled your clit before he began to apply enough suction that stars filled your vision. Your body began to tense as you spiraled into your quickly approaching orgasm. Din hummed and spoke against your clit, teeth and tongue brushing against it as the vibrations of his words buzzed against you, “Gonna come, ner kar’ta? Fall apart for me. Let me devour you.”

His lips wrapped around your clit again and the onslaught of his mouth had your orgasm washing over you. You let out a loud cry, his name garbled on your tongue, and as you came down from your high it felt like you were falling into a soft cloud. It was only then that you realized Din hadn’t stopped for a second. The slurping sound of him devouring you was downright filthy and you moaned again.

“Just like I said before, ner kar’ta.” Din dragged his wet lips up to kiss your abdomen in any random spot he could reach. “Could spend eternity between these gorgeous legs.”

You sat up on one elbow and blindly reached out to grab the collar of his shirt. “My turn, honey.” You gave his shirt a few tugs. “Want to taste you too.”

“Who said I was done here?” Din teased. He crawled up your body, still between your legs, and his hips pressed against yours firmly. You felt his hard cock straining against his sweatpants and he let it grind against your messy pussy. You reached down for the waistband of his sweatpants and Din’s hand rested by your neck to hold himself up while his other caressed the column of your neck and along your jaw. “I’m not done eating dessert.”

Your lips curled into a broad smile as you recognized the similar position you were in to what had been going on earlier today. Quickly, your right hand grabbed his left, the one holding him up, and before you could second guess yourself you let your legs kick up just like in the courting session until you were able to push him off you into an arm bar. This was the exact position he had been in last time, but this time you were unable to see him. Still, you felt your legs across his chest as you held his arm between your thighs. 

For a beat it was silent, and you were worried you had upset him in some way, but then he began to laugh. Without the modulator of his helmet, the sound was clear and downright musical. You’d trade your soul if it meant getting to see the way his face looked right now. You wanted to see his smile, wanted to see the lines that formed on his face when he laughed like this.

“Maker, you’re so perfect, ner kar’ta.” Din breathed as his free hand came up to caress your legs. “I can’t begin to… You’re… I…” He let out one more laugh. “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.”

“What does that mean?” You didn’t recognize those words.

“I’ll tell you one day. I promise.”

You chuckled, “Bold of you to deny someone who has you in an arm bar right now, honey.”

The hand you were holding between your legs suddenly tightened around your wrist and he pulled you toward him while pushing your legs off of him. With a yelp of surprise, he had you flipped so your arms and head were laying on his chest while your legs were sprawled out behind you. Din grasped the side of your face to pull you to his lips. His hand raked through your hair lovingly, and you sighed against his kiss. Din swallowed the sound of your content.

You felt so warm and comfortable against Din, and as if you hadn’t been aware of it before, it was startling how much you loved Din Djarin. 

mando'a translations:

ner kar'ta: my heart Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum: I will know you forever Wayii: Good grief Gar're bid mesh'la: You're so beautiful mesh'la: beautiful

taglist (closed):

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @modiddys-blog @harriedandharassed @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition

[nyoomfruits]

choscar anon again. okay so we choscar fans have definitely been reading the same fics bcs i love love looove no harsher than the bark. that fic is definitely a blueprint for choscar.

also do you think oscar would just be waiting in their!!! living room with a glass of water and charles's fav throw blanket to welcome charles home from all those late night events/parties with a side of extra warm cuddles? before he drags charles for a quick shower in which oscar washes his bf's hair and and and i need to shut up

no pressure but if you do write abt choscar, just know that i will be lurking on your ao3 account like the little starved gremlin that i am

IM SORRY I COULDNT HELP MYSELF I HAD TO WRITE IT

Oscar’s in the middle of his second mediocre action movie on Netflix, when the front door creaks open ever so quietly. He only hears because it’s directly followed by a loud thunk noise and someone softly cursing to themselves.

He smiles, shakes his head, pauses the movie and sits up a little straighter, right as Charles appears in the doorway of the living room. “You’re awake,” Charles says, face lighting up in that soft, quiet kind of way as he leans against the doorjamb.

His face is flushed, his hair tousled, the top buttons of his shirt are undone. It’s a pretty classic ‘Charles who just went clubbing’ look, though Oscar doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of it. There’s a certain glow about him, a mischievous sparkle in his eye, a confident, relaxed slant to his posture. He looks the same when he wins a race.

Sometimes he thinks back to the early days, when he still thought that tight curling feeling he felt in his stomach when he looked at Charles on the top step of the podium, of him soaking in the roar of the crowd, head tipped back and smile tugging at the corners of his mouth was jealousy. When he thought he simply wanted what Charles had.

And he does. Of course he does. He wants podiums and wins and a World Driver Championship. But he also wants just Charles. Wants him when he’s like this, all glow-y and happy, but also when it’s been a long day and he’s tired, head tipping onto Oscar’s shoulder on the car way back to the hotel. Wants him when he’s sad, when he looks like the weight of the world is on his shoulder, when Oscar can do nothing but hold him and kiss the top of his head and tell him everything will be okay.

Wants early mornings of moving around the kitchen, Charles chattering at him excitedly and accepting the monosyllable answers Oscar gives in return, wants afternoons spend out on the waters around Monaco, sprawled out on Charles’s ridiculous super yacht, the sun too warm for them to cuddle but Charles insisting on it anyway. Wants hang outs with friends, where Charles is always the center of the universe, pulling everyone into his orbit, and yet Oscar is the center of his.

Wants quiet nights like these, where Charles might’ve gone to a party Oscar hadn’t felt up to, where their lives might have been separate for a bit, but he still comes home to Oscar.

“Was watching a movie,” Oscar says, with a shrug, which they both know means he’s been staying up, waiting for Charles to come home. “How was the party?”

“Fun,” Charles says. “You would have hated it.” He pushes off the doorjamb then, makes his way over to Oscar on the couch, slots in next to him easily, fits like a puzzle piece.

Oscar pulls him close, kisses him soft and sweet. “Yeah?”

“For sure,” Charles says, pillowing his head on Oscar’s chest. “There were shots and people were dancing.”

“The horrors,” Oscar jokes. He doesn’t hate clubbing, perse. But he doesn’t love it the way Charles does. Never quite knows what to do with his hands, always feels a bit awkward and off center. Never quite manages to command a room the way Charles does.

“Missed you, though,” Charles says, looks up at him with those big doe eyes of his.

Oscar smiles, soft and quiet. “Missed you too,” he says. “Now, come on, let’s go shower. You reek.”

He gently pushes Charles off of him, who squawks indignantly but lets himself be pushed towards the bedroom, towards the ensuite bathroom. Charles grumbles the whole way there, but Oscar knows he doesn’t mind. Especially not when Oscar gets into the shower with him, soaps up his hair and carefully rinses it out, presses Charles against the back of the shower for lazy, unhurried kisses that don’t really lead anywhere, before getting out of the shower again and quietly drying off.

It isn’t until they’re back in bed together, Oscar on his back, Charles on his side with his arm slung over Oscar’s chest, his face pressed into the space where Oscar’s shoulder meets his neck, that Charles speaks again. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous,” Oscar deadpans. It earns him a smack on his bicep.

“I’ve been thinking,” Charles repeats. “You have been staying here a lot.”

Oscar tenses. They haven’t really talked about. Whatever they are. Everything happened just sort of… naturally. They grew together so slowly, so organically, they hadn’t ever had to talk about it, really.

But Charles is right. Oscar can’t remember the last time he went to his own Monaco apartment, would probably have to dig around his bag for a good while to even find the key. And even tonight, when Charles wasn’t even here, Oscar still spend it on his couch, watching movies on his TV, instead of. Well. Just going home.

Had he been overstaying his welcome?

“Yeah,” he says, and desperately tries to keep the slight croak out of his voice.

“Right, so I was wondering. I mean, you totally don’t have to, we can just keep going the way we have but, if you wanted to, you could, well. Move in?”

Oscar breathes out. Feels the tension seep out of his body again. It’s like a weight has lifted off his chest, a weight he never even realized was there. The realization they’re both on the same page here, that they both want the same things. “Yeah,” he says, turns his head so his nose brushes against Charles’s. “Yeah, okay.”

Charles beams. It takes over his whole face, though it’s hard to see in the dim light of the bedroom. Their bedroom. Oscar can’t help the grin that spreads over his own face.

“Okay,” Charles says, nods, and then presses his lips to Oscar, softly, gently, like a promise. Like this is just the beginning of so much more. Like this is the start of forever.

[the-fiction-witch]

She's Mad At Me

Media - The Maze Runner Series Characters - Newt Couples - Newt X Reader Reader - Y/n (GF) Rating - 12 Word Count - 667

Requested - yourlittlefries asked: Hii I don't know if you're accepting requests but I have one so its a maze runner fic and it's basically the reader being mad at newt (also they're in a established relationship) and she starts screaming in her native language (hungarian) and over all fluff thanks!

Newt stood resolutely, machete in hand, as he struggled to pry a stubborn tree stump from the earth on the outskirts of the garden. The midday sun hung high in the sky, beating down mercilessly, transforming the air into a thick, sweltering blanket. Sweat trickled down their foreheads and pooled at the nape of their necks, the relentless heat making their backs slick with perspiration. Nearby, Thomas lent a vague hand, occasionally pausing to wipe his brow, the two boys immersed in the arduous task of reclaiming the land from the grip of nature. Each swing of the machete sent splinters flying, and the earthy scent of damp soil filled the air, mingling with the warmth of the sun-soaked afternoon.

“So?” Thomas began,

“So what Tommy?” Newt glared,

“So what’s up with Y/n?”

“What do you mean?” Newt shrugged pretending he had no clue,

“She doesn’t exactly seem… happy.”

“Yeah, she does that.”

“Why?”

“Cause she’s a girl?” He shrugged,

“Are girls just unhappy?”

“Sometimes.”

“But you guys are dating? Shouldn’t she be happy when she sees you?”

“Tommy…” Newt sighed as she stood up and wiped his sweat, “Girls are weird, they are crazy little emotional gremlins that can go from love, cuddles and affection to biting, screaming and planning your murder. Yes sometimes Y/n is unhappy with me, If it happens, it’ll be fine.”

“But don’t you want her to be happy?”

“Of course I want her to be happy,” Newt sighed, “She just gets like this sometimes, it’s not a bad thing for her to be unhappy Tommy. I’d rather her get mad sometimes than me toxicly positive all the time.”

“I guess…” Thomas shrugged, “So there really is no reason for it?”

“Well… the period isn’t helping,”

“Oooohhh,” he nodded, “That makes more sense,”

“Yeah, I can’t really help her other than being supportive.”

“True.” he nodded, “Girls are weird,”

“Indeed they are Tommy,” Newt agreed, “Love ‘em but they are weird.” He nodded,

“Maybe she’ll not look so mad in a day or two?”

“Maybe,” Newt Shrugged, “But… then again I did-”

“Ughhh!” Y/n yelled across the glade as she stormed out of the kitchens,

“Ohh she’s mad.” Newt nodded,

“NEWT!” She screamed as she made her way over,

“Ooooh no… she’s mad at me.” He gulped,

“Kurvára!” She yelled,

“Oooooohhh shuck she’s very mad at me,” He tried to bolt but it was too late,

She came over and grabbed Newt by his ear,

“Owww oww, Love!” He complained,

“I can’t believe you would do this! Do you have any respect for me! For my things! It’s heartless completely heartless! You are so cruel and mean to me!” she yelled,

“Love I-” He began,

“Nem hiszem el, hogy ennyire kegyetlen lennél velem, ha tudod, hogy érzek, az a tény, hogy ezt tetted, őszintén szólva szívszaggató és durva! És te is szándékosan tetted! tudtad, hogy megmentem, mert rosszul éreztem magam, de mégis megtetted! Ma este egyedül alszol a függőágyadban! és egész héten!” She yelled,

“I am sorry love, you know that right?” He cooed, “Come here,” he offered his arms,

She melted and snuggled her little head into his chest while he wrapped his arms tightly around her,

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize until after, I am really sorry love. I promise I’ll make it up to you, Okay?” he said kissing her forehead,

“Mhm,” she nodded,

“That’s my girl, go on go lay down and rest in the medjack’s a little and I’ll be over in a bit to give you a massage on your poor tummy, okay?”

She nodded moving to her tiptoes to give his lips a little kiss, before she headed on her way,

“…What the shuck was that?” Thomas asked,

“She’s mad I ate her period chocolate.”

“Oh… To be fair I’d also be mad at you too.”

“Thanks, Tommy,” Newt rolled his eyes,

[call-me-strega]

How to Become a Step-Dad: Lore

Edited: 10/16/2023

While I am currently in between writing chapters I thought I’d release a little bit of the lore that will be incorporated in the story or that I think is canon but might not get mentioned since the story is mostly Jason’s perspective.

What’s up with Jason?

So in this au Jason went through basically all his canon backstory and stuff already so that’s established and done with. Some smaller points that may or may not come up are things like his possession of the all-blades, his time on Nanda Parbat, Talia essentially adopting him, or his experience being Catatonic. Speaking of which, I have decided his resurrection came from his righteous anger combining with the ectoplasm in Gotham’s atmosphere, and he is essentially a revenant for the purposes of this story (he’s about a fourth ghost? Or maybe 3/4ths? 3/5ths? Idk yet).

He does already have a reputation in the Infinite Realms as “The Avenger” and “Son/Knight of Gotham” due both to the existence of city spirit Lady Gotham and the ghosts of people who’ve died in Gotham. He actually has a rabid fan club who want him to kill the Joker( if he became a ghost he’d be tried and banished to the nightmare realm).

I am also going to use “the pits are corrupted ectoplasm” trope in the story. However, they’re gonna be corrupted less in the sense of being straight-up poison and more in the sense of eating a weird mushroom with weird side effects (rage, slightly sentient/vocal core, white trauma streak)

As for his relationship with the Bat Family, we’ve moved to a point where everyone’s more or less made up. For Jason and Bruce specifically, they are now more civil. Their relationship is less “ What you’re doing is wrong and you have to stop.” vs “ I’m just doing what you won’t” and now it’s more “ I don’t fully approve of your decisions, but as long as you’re not killing people and coming home for dinner, I don’t care enough to nag you about it” vs “ You’re my dad and I love you. Plus actively killing people is no longer super necessary so I will give in but I still enjoy pissing you off”.

In terms of sibling relationships, Jason has like the cool older brother vibe but he’s actually the semi-responsible one that feeds you when you come over and makes you do homework and sleep properly. He’s still down for shenanigans but is low-key a mom friend. (Dick is not the “responsible one” he is a certified chaos gremlin. Not to say he can’t be responsible, he’s just not the one enforcing these things. He cares more about your social, emotional, and/or, mental state and would help you skip school to steal a penguin or go to ComiCon or smth if you said it was a “mental health day”). I think he has semi-regular hangouts with his siblings on a weekly basis.

I like to think that he and Damien did have a bit of interaction when they were both with the League so they do have a close bond there. He’s definitely apologized to Tim a bunch of times and they’re pretty close now they like scheming together, especially on how to annoy Bruce. Overall he’s largely made up and re-integrated with the family. It’s going to be mentioned later in the story that they resurrected his civilian identity as Jason Todd, so he can publicly be seen with his family and also to do work with the family.

This brings me to my next point of lore: that as Jason gains more control of Crime Alley, he focuses his efforts more into charity work. He’s helping the people get their education, get better access to healthcare, get better job opportunities, running soup kitchens, etc., and doing more humanitarian-focused work. He has got a pretty firm grip on crime and drugs so he’s shifting his focus more towards helping the people now. Even just being part of his gang can be helpful because he works with the Goonion (Goon Union) and offers good insurance plans and stuff. That’s part of the reason they resurrect his civilian identity is so that he can start working with/taking over the Wayne foundation.

What’s up with Danny and Ellie?

Okay so first things first in the story Danny is going to be the ghost prince (not king yet for a long while) and he acts as a junior member on the Council of Ancients who rule with Clockwork acting as his main regent. Meaning that Council + Danny make decisions and Clockwork is Danny’s ghost dad and is formal regent but mostly just handles things with help from the council. Essentially, after at least a couple thousand years Danny will be considered “of age” or eligible and take over the Infinite Realms; and after several billion he’ll become the ancient of space/reality and essentially become a god or primordial being of sorts. Also being of age is different than being an adult ghost. To be an adult ghost you need to have been a ghost for at least 20 years after your lifetime, unless you’re an eternal kid ghost like Youngblood or BoxLunch. So ghosts like Technus, the Box Ghost, and Lunch Lady are all adult ghosts. Whereas ghosts like Johnny 13, Kitty and maybe Ember either aren’t yet adult ghosts or became adult ghosts recently. Ellie ranks as princess and second-in-line, she’ll go through a similar process and eventually join the Council, become a diplomat, and/or rule as regent if/when Danny leaves the Ghost Zone. I’m gonna say all other afterlife’s and stuff are connected to the Zone and their respective leaders make up Phantom’s Court. (So basically he’s king and they are like the nobles). They all govern their own territories and Phantom handles any rouges or conflicts. When Ellie gets older she’ll move between realms on diplomatic missions to lighten some of Danny’s work. I haven’t decided what this means for anyone who is currently mortal and/or liminal. I might just have them live, fulfilling lives and pass away and move on to different afterlives. Or I might have them take places within the Phantom’s court or as advisors. And on the topic: Jazz, the Fenton parents, Sam, and Tucker are all fairly liminal, Jazz and the Dr.s Fenton a bit more than the other two. Everyone in Amity has a little bit of liminality, but not enough to affect their life spans or anything. Also, Vlad is still currently his usual, creepy, Frootloopy-self. But after screwing him over in this fic eventually, I want to have him arrested by the ghost police and spend several thousand years in ghost prison before he gets let out. Then he works on improving his relationships and post-redemption he’s going to be like that annoying, overbearing Uncle who tries to be cool and annoys you but ya don’t hate him. Another thing I wanted to go over is their obsessions. I wanna say the halfas all have dual obsessions bc it fits nicely with the half-and-half concept. Danny is protection and space. Ellie is freedom and family. Vlad is power and love. If I include Dark Danny he’ll be power and destruction and a reformed version would have control and safety.

As for his rouge gallery? Danny is able to help them find healthier outlets for their obsessions so they've become less of an issue. Now they kind of just act like Danny's annoying friends and/or extended family. The ones who were straight-up evil though are on indefinite time out in ghost prison though (e.g. Spectra and Freakshow). The gang still comes to visit him and Ellie from time to time though and he regularly sees them when he goes back to the realms for prince duties and stuff.

What’s up with Amity?

So after he turns 18, Danny decides to tell his parents about being Phantom. He’s legally an adult now and has been working toward getting emancipated anyways so he might as well. They took it like how I imagine slightly homophobic parents would react to learning their child was lgbt (side note: the Fentons are pro-lgbt. When Danny told them he was bi Jack said “Me too son!”, happy to have something to bond over). He tells them about the portal and becoming Phantom. They believe him and they are devastated and guilty.

In the next few weeks, they get into a couple arguments over them wanting to “fix” his ghost half. He blows up and tells them that by doing that they’d end up killing him and that Phantom is a part of who he is and they’ll just have to accept that. That night Danny leaves and with help from Sam stays in an apartment with Jazz near her college. He takes a two-year gap to get a handle of Infinite Realms and GIW stuff, plus doing a few small jobs to save up some money. Within that time the GIW gets taken down and the Fentons reach out bc their love for their children is stronger than their dislike of ghosts. Their relationship is still strained but getting better.

Dani also gets de-aged during that time and Danny decides to take care of her (partly for healing purposes and partly cause he wants to). His friends help forge documentation for her and he fights with Vlad over custody but ultimately wins and makes him pay child support. He’s saved up enough money and with a little help from Sam and Vlad gets an apartment in Gotham. He got a scholarship and is doing mostly online classes at Gotham University. He’s currently working part-time (I have not decided as what but I’m leaning toward mechanic). Vlad paid to have him enroll Ellie in Gotham Academy so she wouldn’t have to go to public school and Danny allowed it since it’d get her a better education. Ellie is going to start first grade in about 3 months since they moved to Gotham in June. (Just for reference, Damian is currently 12 and in seventh grade since I've decided not to move him up.)

Everyone in Amity knows about the discord between the Fenton's before Danny leaves. They don't necessarily know about Phantom though. Everyone kind of assumes Danny came out, fought with his parents then left. When some of them find out about Ellie another rumor circulates she was the topic of the fight. Regardless, the Fenton drama is kinda an open secret and most people sympathize with Danny. Whenever he comes back to town to visit a lot of people are really nice to him and Ellie, which he thought was weird until he learned what people thought was going on. Now he just takes advantage of their misunderstandings.

What's up with the GIW?

The GIW manages to get a hold of Ellie after Danny leaves Amity. When Vlad and Danny +Team Phantom find out they team up to rescue her. Danny also recruits people that he's met during his time away. For this mission, he recruits Constantine and Captain Marvel/Shazam. When the Fentons find out they want in too, almost as an apology gesture. They no longer want to try and "fix" Danny and are okay with Ellie's existence. They view her like family and want to help out. A lot of their views are still prejudiced but they're getting better, however, that's not the only thing straining their relationship. This is a step in the right direction though.

So they go in and infiltrate first in order to get Ellie out. Then they destroy the facilities behind them as they leave. Constantine and Captain Marvel then go back to the JL to work on getting to Anti-Ecto Acts repealed, something that is still in progress during the beginning of this fic. That's why they are gonna lay low while they’re in Gotham. The GIW attempted to experiment on Ellie while they had her but the containment unit they used destabilized her ectoplasm. She retains all her memory but is mentally and physically de-aged. Frostbite assesses her and says she needs to get extra ecto and to be near another halfa aura to help develop and stabilize her own systems. That leads to Vlad and Danny fighting over custody before Danny inevitably beats Vlad into the ground and walks away with custody and child support.

I think a full reveal about identities will happen after Danny gets confirmation that his existence is no longer illegal. It'll probably be after Jason asks him out but before he accepts because he wants Jason to know what he's getting into. Jason will probably be shocked but accept it relatively quickly. I haven't decided yet if I want him to live a mortal life with them and then die (either to move on or become a full ghost) or if I want him to be basically immortal like them and give him a position in the court.

~~~~ Find chapter one here

Chapter 2 now here

[himeofshyness]

Summary: Sebastian wakes up in the middle of the night to find his pregnant farmer wife, Aleia, indulging in her latest bizarre craving.

The farmhouse was bathed in moonlight, its wooden beams creaking softly in the stillness of the night. The air outside was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and distant ocean waves. Inside, everything was peaceful except for the subtle rustling of blankets and the faint creak of the bed as Aleia carefully slid out from under Sebastian’s arm.

She moved with practiced stealth, her roseate hair swaying as she tiptoed toward the door. But even with her best efforts, Sebastian stirred, his hand instinctively reaching for her in his half-asleep daze. Instead of warmth, he was met with cool, empty sheets. His brows furrowed. Sleepy or not, he knew Aleia was supposed to be there.

Dragging himself up, Sebastian ran a hand through his tousled dark plum hair, exhaling as he rubbed his face. With sluggish movements, he padded barefoot out of the room, eyes scanning the dimly lit hallway. The bathroom light was off. That ruled out his first guess.

Then, faintly, the warm glow of the kitchen flickered under the door.

Sebastian squinted. At this hour?

With quiet steps, he approached, pushing the door open slightly.

There, under the kitchen’s soft golden light, stood Aleia, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she hunched over the counter, caught in the act. Her cheeks were puffed up, stuffed with something. And in her hand? A piece of watermelon.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Cravings again?”

Aleia turned toward him, blinking innocently as she struggled to chew. “Mhm!” she garbled, before finally swallowing. “I needed this.”

Sebastian let out a breathy chuckle, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “Watermelon?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “It’s so juicy and sweet.” Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she reached behind her and grabbed—oh dear Yoba!—a jar of mayonnaise.

Sebastian’s expression immediately dropped.

“Oh no.” he muttered, dread settling in. “Not this again.”

Aleia grinned mischievously. “Oh yes.”

Without hesitation, she unscrewed the lid and like it was the most normal thing in the world, tilted the jar back, taking a long sip of mayonnaise like it was a gourmet beverage.

Sebastian visibly recoiled. “ALEIA, WHY?”

She smacked her lips, sighing in contentment. “I dunno, Sebby. It just hits different.”

Sebastian stared at her, absolutely appalled. “You used to do that before pregnancy, and I thought maybe, just maybe, you’d grow out of it. But no. No. The baby is only enabling you.”

Aleia shrugged before nonchalantly dipping her watermelon slice into the mayo and taking a delighted bite.

Sebastian looked personally betrayed. “That’s an abomination.”

Aleia gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? This is peak cuisine.”

“That is sacrilegious.” Sebastian countered.

“Oh, and you’re one to talk?” Aleia huffed, setting down her watermelon and crossing her arms. “You eat cold sashimi straight from the fridge at 2 AM like some kind of gremlin and think I’m the weird one?”

Sebastian opened his mouth to argue but then paused. Damn. She had a point.

“That’s completely different.” he muttered.

Aleia smirked. “Mhm. Keep telling yourself that.”

Sebastian exhaled sharply before stepping closer, slipping his arms around her waist. Despite the culinary war crimes she was committing, he still pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “You are so lucky I love you.” he murmured against her hair.

Aleia giggled, nuzzling into him. “I know.”

Sebastian’s hands found their way to her slightly rounded belly, rubbing slow, soothing circles. “How’s our little night owl?” he asked softly.

Aleia hummed, resting her free hand over his. “Oh, just making sure I never sleep again,” she teased. “Apparently, our kid is a night creature like their dad.”

Sebastian smirked. “At least they take after me in something.”

Aleia rolled her eyes before nudging him playfully. “You’re really clingy, you know that?”

“You like it.”

“…I do.” she admitted with a grin.

Sebastian glanced at the counter. “So, is it just the watermelon or should I prepare myself for something worse?”

Aleia chewed her lip, suddenly looking very guilty.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “Aleia… what else did you eat?”

She hesitated before mumbling, “Pickles.”

Sebastian nodded slowly. “Okay, not too bad.”

“With peanut butter.”

His expression dropped. “Oh, no.”

“…And a little bit of hot sauce.”

Sebastian groaned. “Sweetheart, that’s not food.”

Aleia pouted, poking his chest. “Says the guy who hoards pumpkin soup like a dragon and refuses to share.”

Sebastian gasped, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Hey. That soup is sacred.”

Aleia grinned triumphantly before finishing off the last bite of her cursed watermelon. “There. Now I’m good.”

Sebastian sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, come on, weird cravings queen. Let’s get you back to bed before you start dipping pumpkin soup in ranch dressing.”

“…That’s actually not a bad idea.”

Sebastian groaned.

With a laugh, Aleia wrapped her arms around his neck. “You love me.” she teased.

Sebastian kissed her forehead. “That’s the only reason I’m putting up with this.”

Hand in hand, they walked back to their room, the dim glow of the kitchen light fading behind them. As they curled up under the covers, Sebastian wrapped his arms around her again, his warmth chasing away the night’s chill.

“Good night, my love,” he murmured against her hair.

Aleia smiled sleepily, snuggling into his chest. “Night, Sebby.”

The farmhouse settled back into silence, the moonlight casting a soft glow over them. And despite the absolute madness of her cravings, Sebastian knew one thing for certain.

He wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.

[irregularcollapse]

For the wip game please can you share more Christmas fic I know it’s not on The game but if you wouldn’t mind that would be so nice but if not that’s okay could you share some meat fic part 2

Hello anon thank you for the interest! It's so nice of you <3

I've shared some snips of the Christmas fic, but I don't remember if I have a tag for it... I need to search my own blog lmao

I wasn't expecting to finish it before Christmas, because I definitely didn't start it in time and am bad at fake deadlines, and now it's February... it's fine, time isn't real.

I don't think I've talked about the ~~**~*concept*~**~~ because I wasn't sure I'd be able to finish it, but things aren't that deep! It's just fanfic, there's no secret! Hahaha okay so:

It's loosely based on the film The Family Man (2000), which in itself is a loose A Christmas Carol-slash-It's a Wonderful Life riff. The premise is that Bucky, a high-powered film exec living a lonely life and holding everyone at bay with a lot of "I'm fine"s, is yeeted into a version of his life where he never broke up with his college boyfriend Gale. It's an excuse for me to write a lot about mental illness guilt and self-victimisation, and the catharsis of accepting love and help from people who care about you and your mental state! I actually have ~15k of it written up so far, but I'm loathe to guesstimate what the final wordcount could be. I have a plot outline but it's also slightly intense for me to work on because it is. Incredibly personal lmao

It is also a lot for @angelfruittree because when I said I wanted to do an AU of this movie (I watched it for the first time last year) she said it was an all-time fave of hers and I just! Really want to do it justice! Bucky working in film (in both lives 👀) was her idea <3

This one is also featuring The Egan Sisters™ who I invented for my time slip fic, but are phlegmativerse canon now 😂😂😂

Jean "Bean" Egan is Bucky's eldest sister, and has very much been put into the position of being expected to be a third parent: eldest daughters are forced to grow up too fast, but youngest siblings aren't trusted to grow up (especially when they're mentally ill). Bucky is given a glimpse of a version of Bean who does trust him, and it throws him through a bit of a loop:

“My little gremlins ready?”

“Uh—No. They’re eating toast. Sorry.”

“Ope, you didn’t have to feed ‘em! There’s that iHop near the station.” There’s nothing in her tone but a bright kind of harried-ness, like how their mom used to be a lot of the time. None of the clipped impatience that Bucky gets from Bean more and more; she’s still smiling. “Hi, how are ya?” She cranes up to kiss his cheek, fleeting and careless, and then she’s already bustling past him in the direction of the kitchen, working at the toggles on her coat.

“Bean.”

“Yup?” She stops her charging, turning back to face him clear-eyed and happy, flicking her hair out of the way as she shucks her coat. Brown Egan curls, just like Maisie’s (just like Bucky’s), wild and escaping from under her pom-pom beanie. Lines round her eyes creased by her smile, not drooping with exhaustion.

“You let your kids stay with me?”

It isn’t quite what he wanted to ask, or what he wanted to try to tell her. It comes out all parched and strained. Bean cocks her head, tutting a little.

Anyway this is more than you asked sorry bye thanks for the interest again 🫣🫣🫣 I think I've rambled too much to waffle about meatfic too hfhfhffff sorry

[crackedpumpkin]

Speaking of your previous(I think?) post about Infuriating Melodies…..*cutely kicks legs and giggles*

What is your characterization of Cole and the ninjas? I always love hearing others interpretations about it.

(っ˘ڡ˘ς)

oooo i am sitting down for this...

Let's start with Lloyd. First of all, can we just appreciate how they handled his character in Dragons Rising? We're getting to look at the very real effects of all the shit the poor guy's been through... At first I got annoyed tbh, I thought he was being too passive. However, it's pretty dumb of me to saythat because now i realise how used i am to protagonists who can solve a problem with little to no difficulty at all.

But onto more lighthearted stuff, he strikes me as...bitchless.

For lack of better word, i mean. tbh i skipped lots of crystallized bc i just dont like harumi as a character very much (i am not accepting feedback <3) so my opinion isn't the most reliable. I mean he has severe daddy and mommy issues so can you blame the guy. i bet he's the type of guy who wouldn't know you're flirting with him unless you straight up say it. he does however have rizz (thanks to everyone else in his team lmao but there are the cringey moments. trust.)

he's very organised and has learnt to put up with a lot of stupid shit bc he's in a team full of dumbasses /aff. there're a few mementos he keeps in a drawer next to his bed and when he needs a reprieve he just goes to it and grabs one. it calms him down.

For Jay, he's kinda just like me. constantly frazzled, but in a pinch he can step up to the position needed. They're all leaders but they just do things in different ways. He's a chaotic mess but like, a chaotic mess with a checklist :) i bet he and nya have a bunch of lego flowers in their room (yes they share a room or they sneak over to each other's room) he essentially reminds me of a mixture of dewey and huey from Ducktales (2017 reboot) (aka one of the the best shows in existence)

Zane to me is the undeniable anchor. he's got the absolute best roasts and i bet he's the main line of communication in terms of emailing, texting their allies and friends. if not for Zane who would regularly keep cyrus updated ? (besides pixal, i mean) he's an insane multitasker but if you spring a surprise on him he will buffer for a solid minute. his love language is def acts of service, and doesnt understand why some people feel bad for not reciprocating.

Kai is a mischievous little fire gremlin who is the de facto leader of the group if lloyd isnt there. he, jay, and cole are the enabler trio of the team, and their antics are enough to drive lloyd crazy. it's hard to believe he's the older one sometimes. i genuinel think he's just a big ball of vulnerable but he constantly pushes it aside to focus on other stuff. also, he has a surprising amount of mature moments with the group.

nya is smart, yes, but also the kind of person who thinks that if you cook stuff in an oven for an hour at 140 celcius, you can do the same thing by cooking it at 300 celcius for 5 minutes and achieve the same outcome. this has gotten her banned from the kitchen.

also she makes incredibly bad jokes sometimes. jay laughs regardless of whether theyre funny or not. i view her as someone who's got multiple degrees, but sucks at group work during projects

anyway thats all i have in mind for now, lmk if you'd like to hear me yap anymore lololol sorry for putting you through this anon <3

[titlemewickedwonderland]

Weather the Storm (Rain Ghoul x fem!reader)

Summary: Y/n loves Papa and his ghouls. They were like family despite her not knowing them long. She is so used to making sure everyone was happy and had what they needed that when she gets caught up in a bad storm that causes her to panic she's surprised that there is someone there to catch her after all and calm her down.

Fandom: Ghost Band (Swedish band)

Pairings: Rain Ghoul x Fem!reader

Auth. Note: The portrayal of Ghouls and Papa is from a fandom base and imagination alone; the personas of the band do not have anything to do with the real people behind the masks. I am a fan of their music and respect their privacy so their stage persona is separate from the real-life individuals in my works.

Triggers: Anxiety, panic attacks, angst, comfort, and fluff

Check out my Workshop

It's always a great morning when you wake up to the scent of freshly brewed coffee - a bonus when the hint of sugary sweetness of the donuts and pastries lining in boxes along the kitchen countertops but it was Y/n's pleasure to be able to spoil her boys especially after they just got back from tour. She knew no matter how much relief they all felt to be back at the Abbey and their own rooms she knew that it would not slap a balm over the temperaments that were always generally so high-strung from stress and overall exhaustion of the tour. Y/n always knew what to do to make things easier; it was after all part of her job. To make sure all the ghouls were taken care of and Copia had everything he needed before tour and during the tour - to allow some breather room for them was a key part of touring with them; something she'd found out real quick during her first tour with them.

Siblings of Sin were growing each day with new faces and Y/n hadn't been here more than a year just yet but because of her superb organization skills, calm disposition, and being practically the sunshine of everyone's morning kept her at a close positioning with Papa and his ghouls. She'd like to think she started a firm bond with them all during her time with them on tour and was a quick study when it came to picking up their habits and personalities.

So when a pair of arms snaked around her waist while she was busy on her ever-presence tablet in her hands confirming the day's schedule a tail snaking up her slacks-covered leg to gain her attention Y/n was not surprised and merely pulled a smile from her face as she reached over to grab a random pastry out of a box and lift it up to the figure behind her who was busy nuzzling against her neck with a low purr of sleepy content.

"How do you always smell so fucking good?" Dew's voice grumbled as he took a little nip of her neck

"Oi there, gremlin. Take a bite out of something else; I need my throat." Y/n grinned despite her chiding remark as she pulled her neck from the fire ghoul's reach and shoved the edge of the flaky pastry into his slightly parted mouth.

Dew couldn't even find the strength to be mad when the sweetness of the sugary dessert hit his taste buds and he chittered happily while taking a seat at the kitchen island to munch on his treat.

"Is anyone else up yet? I have fresh coffee and pastries for everyone." she turned to lean her back against the edge of the counter and peer across the space at the fire ghoul

Dew looked so disheveled with his long pale brown hair a slight mess and sleep still crusting to the corner of his eyes that were only half-lidded as he licked the sugary goodness from his fingertips. Despite her having seen the ghouls without their human disguises before she came to find that they enjoyed their human appearances even being so bold as to hold partial glamor and allow certain parts of their ghoulish features lose like tails, horns, and fangs even in the confinements of their own ghoul's apartments; the only time she'd ever seen them fully dressed up in their formal ghoul attire was either when they were in public, out of their quarters with other siblings, or performing. She was content and a little smug to know she was one of those very very few outsiders who had the privilege to see them as they were - not a lot of people had that opportunity but when you are Y/n with her positioning within the clergy it came with its perks.

"Hmm, Aether and Swiss are in Aether's nest" Dew shrugged and reached towards the counter for another pastry with his hand while his finger wiggled in his pointed ear to dislodge the cotton feeling of sleep he felt there. "Mountain is always up before any of us so he's probably in the greenhouse. I haven't heard from Rain though. He might either be sleeping or out with Mountain?"

Y/n pouted tapping at her tablet thoughtfully without looking back at him and gave a few thoughtful nods. "Hmm okay. That's fine, you guys actually have a free schedule for the next few days - Sister Imperator insisted you guys take an extra day for decompression. Something about Copia having a bit of a fuss over what happened during the last show on tour." the young woman hummed mildly before her gaze lifted just in time to see Dew grab a third pastry and her hand swatted at his playfully but didn't stop him from grabbing one.

"Save those for the others Dew." she chided lightly but a smile played at the edge of her lips

"Why? You got something sweeter for me?" he shot her a toothy grin that looked too far feral and Y/n briefly wondered if their ruts were coming; casting a quick glance at her calendar she was inwardly relieved to find that she had at least 2 weeks til that happened.

"You're starting to sound like Swiss. That's his pickup line. Don't steal his swag, little fire ghoul. It doesn't suit you." she smirked playfully

"Tch." Dew slumped back into his seat and Y/n smiled at him warmly before tipping her head towards the door to the kitchen.

"Why don't you go join Aether and Swiss? Relax and be lazy for once, you have no practices or anything of that sort for a few days. I'll go check up on Mountain and Rain to make sure they're okay before checking in with Papa. Satanas knows that man will need all the comfort he can get."

"Just get him a few siblings. They'll fuck the stress out of him." Dew followed behind her as the pair headed for the door and she swatted at his arm with a slight scowl.

"You know it's true." he shot her a cheeky little grin but Y/n just gave a shudder.

"I love Papa but I rather not be thinking of what kind of destressing he gets up to," she replied before chuckling under her breath and heading down the hall towards Mountain and Rain's rooms while Dew headed in the opposite direction to join his pack mates in a ghoul snuggle pile.

When neither ghoul answered to her knocks she found a slight frown tugging at her lips. It wasn't as if they particularly needed her to check up on them now that they were back home; they had more range of the abbey than most clergy members so it wasn't unusual if they were out of their rooms but for her own peace of mind and probably a little bit out of habit Y/n couldn't help herself but twinge with worry when she got no responses.

She did not allow their lack of presence to dislodge her focus though. She did in fact have work to do; pish posh if she was told to take a day for resting after they returned from the tour - Papa insisted on it that she deserved a break as much as any of them since she holstered more work than most on the tours second to the band mates themselves but Y/n was a creature of habit and maybe a bit of an overachiever. So she'd picked up the work that was supposed to be looked at the next day and got a head start on it.

Hidden away in Copia's office as she worked in her corner assigned for her personally by Papa she didn't realize how much time had passed. Hidden away in the nook that smelled of his cologne, incense, and ink from books. While the church was very modern when it came to technology for the most part Y/n enjoyed the fact that Copia kept himself a little less modern with books and ink wells as much as a laptop tucked away. She loved the older ways of doing things too; switching between answering emails needed and writing down some paperwork by the hand she was in her happy place.

Until her stomach growled and she was forced to take her wary eyes from her work to look at the clock on the wall and frowned in surprise when her eyes read that it was nearly dinnertime already. Dinner time huh? She'd skipped breakfast to make sure her ghouls were settling in fine and she'd worked through lunch as time got away from her. She didn't know just how bad her hunger was until her stomach damn near cramped in on itself and she swore it was almost as bad as period cramps. Sighing she carefully went through her routine of shutting things down, saving and tabbing things she was working on, and piling things neatly into drawers or her organizers.

Happily, she stretched her body hearing the crackling and pops of her bones as she unfolded herself carefully from her hair making her internally joke to herself that she was old as she headed for the doors. But that happy buzz left with the presence of what was behind the door. Rain. No, not her precious and shy ghoul. But actual rain from the sky. It was pouring down in torrents making a thunderous sound come as it pelted the roof making her flinch involuntarily. It wasn't that she hated it when it rained...she was just not overly fond of the lightning and thunder that came with rainstorms. A bad memory of when she was accidentally locked in a closet during a storm when she was young caused more trauma then people would give credit.

Y/n breathed in deeply the scent of fresh rain and wet earth before she was closing and locked Papa's office door with her copy of the key before making her way down the stone hallways. In the daylight on any normal day, the place had a nice vibe; almost nostalgic even during the nights on the rare occasion she'd walk those halls past sundown. But during storms like tonight, the place was eery; scary even, and made the hair on her arms rise on end. The halls were empty and her footsteps were drowned out by the thundering of the rain on the roof. Still, she had to press on and headed for the eating hall. But as she began to walk down the isolated halls a flash of lightening illuminated the dim area that was only lit by a few violently flickering candles on the walls and she whipped her head around when she felt herself being watched. Surely not, there was nothing to be worried about here at the Abbey. The only demons that lurked in these halls were the ghouls and she was friendly with most of them; well civil at best unless they were Papa's ghouls. Sister Imperators were...well they often enjoyed creeping her out whether intentionally or not.

She wasn't expecting to see anything when she looked over her shoulder but her heart leaped up into her throat when she saw a black-clad figure at the end of the hall; the lights flickering on the silver mask and the lightening that slashed across the sky briefly made the figure look utterly terrifying. Despite her knowledge of the halls and those who walked it both human and ghoul, it did nothing to qualm the utter animalistic fear that suddenly leaped through her as she turned and bolted down the hallway; her feet slapping loudly but being lost in the sound of the rain as she panted each breath through trembling lips. Was the figure following her? Why was she running? Was she in danger? Yes...no! no of course she wasn't! Was she?

She slammed open a pair of wide doors that opened to a vast room beyond and she was surprised to find that she'd made it to the mass hall where the sermons were usually held. The large space looked foreboding but empty even as lightning flashed and thunder rolled. Her mind fogged over with fear and her chest felt tight as she stumbled through the pews before collapsing in the corner by the stage as if trying to hide from something or someone within the room. But she was alone right? She shouldn't be running; it was stupid - just a silly panic attack about a stupid storm. But then the lights illuminated the room again and there stood that same figure just a few feet away from her and she screamed.

A pair of cold hands gripped her shoulders and she flailed trying to dislodge them only for a few pinpricks of pain to dig into the skin beneath her silk shirt and causing her mind to stutter to a stop when her big eyes lifted to meet the familiar silver masked face of a ghoul looming over her. Except it wasn't so scary anymore when dark brown eyes flashed through the eyes of it on another flash and she realized with a stupid amount of relief as she recognized them instinctively despite not knowing the face behind it.

"Satanas Y/n," the voice was soft as the figure knelt down in front of her and she threw her arms around their necks ignoring the way the mask dug into her shoulder and head as she squeezed tightly

"Hey, it's okay...." cold but reassuring hands crept up her back to hold her to them.

Rain held her tightly to him before realizing that he was soaked to the bone from the thunderstorm beyond and pulled away. "Hey, I'm getting you wet. Hold on Y/n-"

"I don't care! Shit, just..." she swallowed as her shaking fingers gripped the wet fabric of his back shirt as if afraid to let him go.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you, baby girl. We were worried when we couldn't find you or get a hold of you. I was out looking for you when I saw you in the hall running...satan below I've never seen you that scared before. Are you okay?" he reached up to wipe at the tear stains from her face.

Y/n let out a teary laugh and shook her head. "I-I'm sorry. You caught me off guard...I was in Papa's office doing some work and lost track of time. I didn't know we were going to have a storm. You just surprised me...I-I'm not overly fond of what comes during a storm." her smile was a bit wary as she looked out the window and let her hands drop to her lap as she slowly calmed down breathing in the familiar scent of Rain - like the fresh and crisp air after a storm, something like a lakeside trip during summer, and his natural Ghoul scent cologne that was indescribable.

"You're afraid of storms?" Rain tilted his head slightly to the side and Y/n couldn't help the flush that crept up her neck and face.

"It's silly. I know. It's just..." She looked down at her fingers as she played with them. "When I was little, I was playing hide and go seek with my siblings. I found myself locked in a closet on accident and they couldn't find me all day - lucky me that it started a thunderstorm during that time too." she shuddered at the memory.

The water ghoul gave a little chittering sound of comfort as he curled his tail around her leg and rested the side of his mask against her leg to look up at her; he reminded her of a puppy or kitten begging for attention. The sight made her smile despite her ebbing fear.

"It's not silly." his hand squeezes her calf and his eyes soften before he sits up. "Can I help you?"

"Hmm?" she frowns confused before flinching when another crash of thunder above them catches her off guard.

Rain is right there to pull her up to her feet. Keeping his hands on her at all times to give her a sense of comfort he begins to lead her back towards the doors and she is more confused than ever.

"Rain! What are you doing?" Y/n hoped he was just taking her back to the dorms to dry off and watch a movie or something but instead he pulls her out towards the open hallway where beyond the safety of the roof lay the torrent of rain falling.

"Rain-" she tugged on his hand but his grip was firm as he turned to her. His eyes were right behind his mask as he tilted his head at her.

"If you don't face your fear, pretty girl. You'll never learn to get over it. Come on, I got you I promise. Do you trust me?" he held out a hand to her and she just stared at him as if he was crazy.

"I don't think that's a good way to-" she began but the slight ghoul was already reaching up to tug his mask off his face.

no matter how many times she sees him without one she's struck with how utterly beautiful he is with his ashen skin, strong nose, piercing dark eyes, and thick waves of hair that nearly reached his shoulders. He placed the mask down before taking a few steps out into the rain. Not caring that within seconds he was soaked and dripping with the hair in his face that he swept away with his long strong fingers to give her a toothy grin that flashed white with the spark of lightning.

"Come on Y/n. rain won't hurt you." Y/n's lips curled up slightly as she stared at his outstretched hand.

"This rain or that rain?" she tipped her chin between him and the water rushing to the ground above them.

"Neither." the ghoul smiled a little softer as he watched her debate.

Before she could stop herself and think more clearly she reached out and took his hand. Allowing the other to pull her into the downpour and soak into her clothes in an instant. She shuddered and closed her eyes trying to imagine herself in a shower instead of a thunderstorm but it did little. As if feeling her unease and panic rising Rain's body pressed to her back and his arms wrapped around her waist to hold her tightly whether for comfort or to keep her from running she didn't know but she tried to focus on his warmth at her back instead of the water getting into her eyes.

"R-Rain I don't think it's working." the girl jerked back into him at a crack of lightning but the water ghoul was right there with her.

His mouth pressed to her ear and she felt the prickle of his stubble against the soft shell as he murmured; a voice calm and collected but deep as if coaxing her muscles to relax with the sound of his voice alone. "It's just water, baby. It's not going to hurt you. Feel it hitting your skin. Listen to the way it hits the ground - get lost in its voice. The thunder isn't something to be afraid of, think of it as a friend - the lightning as a smile as the storm speaks to you." he was slowly rocking them side to side as he spoke.

"You've dealt with so much more noise than this. Come on honey." he crooned as he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Rain I-" Y/n swallowed and she turned her face to look at him. He looked utterly beautiful under the spray of water that rushed them. He wasn't even cold or shivering from it like she was.

He flashed her a smile before nuzzling his nose against her neck. "How about this...think of a storm as one of your ghouls."

"M-My ghouls?"

"Oh, you didn't know? Copia's adopted you so in reality you're like our holder as much as he is." Rain chirped between placing soft kisses to her neck.

"A-and how is that supposed to help?"

The water ghoul pulled his head away and instead ran his hands up her sides to her shoulders and squeezed. "Picture this." his voice was so low she had to tilt her head back so that she could hear it better over the rain.

"The thunder is the sound of Mountain as he beats at his drumset. The sharp strike of lightning is as violent but beautiful as Dew's sharp tongue. The darkened clouds remind you of Swiss and his presence is so powerful and striking you can't ignore it. The howling wind that whips the trees is Aether with his carefree and wild spirit."

Y/n's eyes had slid closed at the lull of his voice as she sagged against him but they opened to stare into the darkened eyes of the water ghoul. "And you?"

A slow quirk of his mouth teased at the edge of her own. "I'm the rain that falls at your feet; washing away all your worries."

Y/n's lips parted slightly as if to say something but instead, she found herself nodding slowly. "I-I think I might like storms after all, then," she mumbled breathlessly

"Good." a growl vibrated through her back as he pressed closer to capture her wet lips and she arched up into him only to be spun around to be pressed to a pillar.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back; fumbling slightly with the intensity of his kisses. When they needed breath they parted and Rain rested his forehead against hers breathing her in as she panted in his arms. He reached up a hand to brush away the wet strands of her hair from her face and wipe at the raindrops on her lashes with a small smile.

"Rain! Y/n!" a voice shouted through the storm and they looked over to find the other pack members rushing down the pathway toward them.

"You found her! We were worried!" Aether sighed in relief as they reached the pair. "Satanas, you're going to catch a cold. What are you doing Rain? Let's get her inside before she gets sick!" ever the mother hen the quintessence ghoul pulled off his jacket to drape it around the girl.

Y/n laughed a bit and flushed as she squeezed Rain's hand when he entwined their fingers. "I'm okay...just...being reminded again why nature is such a beautiful thing." she gave a secretive smile to the water ghoul who smirked back at her.

Dew and Swiss followed behind with the forgotten mask in Dews hands while Mountain forged ahead of them leading the way back towards the dorms rumbling almost as deep as the thunder above their heads.

"Let's get you dry and warm, blossom. I'll make you some hot cocoa and we can watch a movie."

"Actually...I was wondering if perhaps we could grab something to eat first? I-I kind of forgot about food today...too caught up in work." Y/n flushed when a few disapproving eyes landed on her and suddenly she was hauled up into another ghoul's arms.

"Brat, when are you going to learn rest days apply to you too." Swiss sighed as he carried her bridal style down the hallway.

Y/n smiled and rested her head against his shoulder. "Food....I want food and then a snuggle pile."

Rain chirped happily in reply as he wrapped his tail around her ankle as he walked beside the pair and gave a grin. "Sounds like a plan."

"And no more playing in a thunderstorm for satanas sake! We have to deal with Rain doing that enough times but he's a water ghoul it's in his nature. you get sick far too easily as a human." Aether added pointing an accusing finger at her.

"I dunno guys...I think I actually love storms." Y/n replied thoughtfully as she closed her eyes with a slight smile listening to Swiss' purr rumble his chest.

"Why's that Blossom?" Mountain piped up curiously.

"Someone special told me storms are like friends if you know where to look." she replied peeking an eye open to peer at Rain who gave her a fond smile.

The rest made noises of approval and appreciation but said nothing. They weren't stupid; they could read the signs but they said nothing as they took their precious human back to their den for some proper rest.