#i can smell it a mile a way and be like oh yep hes on the balcony rn!!!! should go chat

[sirbogarde]

Also had an interesting dream about one of my professors 😳 not like a spicy weird one but still like.....could possibly be interpreted that way

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Birds Of A Feather

Rating: Teen Pairing: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Words Count: 5,320 Summary: Your four hour flight home to Philadelphia turns into a 24 hour trip where you're marooned in the St. Louis airport thanks to a snowstorm. You and Joel Miller, the handsome man you just met on your flight, keep each other company. Warnings: fluff, like the amount of fluff inside of a 7 foot tall stuffed bear fluff, snow storm, pov switching, cinnamon rolls and apple juice, flight anxiety, comfort, kinda soulmate vibes, good dad joel, proud dad joel, sarah's in college, reader is an interior designer from philadelphia, the whole one bed in the hotel room trope as well, nothing bad happens to joel miller in this house, lying for a ticket.

A/N: This was written for @burntheedges' Roll A Trope Challenge. I received snowed in and thanks to the always lovely @maggiemayhemnj she helped me with suggesting snowed in at an airport. This is very very soft and cute, I hope you enjoy! ❄️💕

Masterlist

❄️❄️❄️

Early morning flights are your favorite. The TSA line is usually short, coffee from the kiosk is fresh, the magazines in the newsstand are in order, and the airport is quiet in an early morning hush versus the roar of the afternoon crowds. You stop at the newsstand to pick up a magazine and a cinnamon roll before heading to your gate. You stuff your customary travel treats in your backpack looking forward to enjoying your newest Architectural Digest and sugar rush once you’re in the air.

❄️❄️❄️

A deep throat clear grabs your attention while you watch the tarmac crew prepare the plane. A broad man stands before you in the aisle, clad in a flannel and faded gray shirt taking up most of the tight space. Instant panic bubbles inside when you realize this gorgeous man is who you have to share a tiny cubicle with for the next four hours. 

“Hey, uh,” he stammers, a hand brushes the back of his neck in a nervous stance, “s’alright if I take the window? It’s… helpful to me.”

His voice is deep and husky with one of those famous Texas drawls, of course his voice is just as attractive as him.

“Not at all, I can take the aisle,” you say, awkwardly bending over to grab your bag. 

The handsome stranger attempts to back up as much as he can yet your body still brushes against his, he tenses before moving into the row and sits down with a big huff; if you thought he took up a lot of room in the aisle, the room he takes up in the cramped business class seat is something else.

He adjusts his shoulders to try to give you more space and fails miserably. He lets out a grumbly sigh while attempting to find a more comfortable position. His arm bumps into yours before you angle your body towards the aisle, trying to give the large stranger more room. At least he smells just as good as he looks… mint, coffee and burnt wood. There’s way worse looking people to be packed in like sardines with. 

The flight attendants walk the aisle and do their pre boarding steps, checking seat belts and doors before going into their safety spiel. Your seat neighbor shuffles nervously, tapping his fingers against his thighs. He’s a nervous flier, you can spot them a mile away. 

“Why are you headed to Pennsylvania?” you ask, turning towards him trying to cut through his nervous tension. 

“Oh, uh, to visit my daughter, she’s a freshman at UPenn. Wanted to spend the holidays with her,” he cracks a smile at the mention of his daughter. God, he’s handsome.

“That’s nice, it’s beautiful in Philly for the holidays. I’m from there, so if you need any tips on where to go and what to do, I can help.”

“Thanks,” his fingers still tap against his lap. “Guess you’re going back home then?” 

“Yep, I just finished a job and I haven’t been home in a month, just hoping to beat the snow.” 

“Here’s hoping… I’m Joel by the way,” he reaches his large hand out to shake yours. You grab his calloused and overworked hand then give him your name, he nods softly and repeats it. His deep voice echoes through your head, sending a shiver up your spine. 

“It’s nice to meet you Joel, even if it’s in this cramped airplane cabin.” 

“S’nice to meet you too,” he lets go of your hand, placing it back on his thigh, you notice that it’s no longer nervously tapping. 

Flight attendants, prepare doors for departure and cross check.

Joel lets out a big, deep sigh. 

“Nervous flier?” you ask.

“You could say that,” he grumbles. “Never liked giving up control of my life to someone I don’t know.”

“I understand that, but this happens to millions of people a day, you only hear about the bad.”

“I get that,” he chuckles, quickly stopping as the plane begins to roll on the tarmac. “Still don’t have to like it.” 

“Well, I fly all the time,” you reassure, “I’m sure everything will go smoothly.” 

“Here’s hoping,” he sighs, sinking deeper into the seat. 

You are the opposite of your seatmate, you love how the engines rumble as the plane picks up speed, the way your stomach drops when it lifts off the tarmac, the brief thud underneath when the wheels are tucked into the plane. Flying has never bothered you, it’s always been exciting and a means of getting to new adventures. 

The plane speeds across the pavement preparing for liftoff, your stomach drops before the wheels leave the ground... Joel’s hand grasps yours. Golden, thick fingers cover your hand squeezing tightly. You turn to him and your heart breaks a little at the sight, his eyes are squeezed shut with his nostrils flaring as he puffs deep breaths out. There’s something so heartbreaking watching this large, strong man look so scared. 

“Hey, you’re alright, it’s quick, very soon we’re going to be in the air and all we have to do is wait,” you try to sound as gentle and comforting as possible. It’s easy to take fearlessness for granted, especially when someone as large and seemingly intimidating as Joel looks so helpless. 

He nods, his eyes still tightly closed before swallowing a thick gulp of air.

Your free hand reaches up and opens his air vent before angling yours toward him. 

“Can you look at me Joel,” you whisper. His hand still clasps yours tightly. It hurts like hell, but you don’t mind; if it makes him feel better, he can clasp as hard as he needs. 

His brown eyes open wide and focus on you. 

“That’s good, Joel, can you take a deep breath for me? Iiiiiin and ooooout. Very good,” you encourage with a grin on your face holding his eye contact. “This is worth it, you’ll get to see your daughter, tell me her name and what she’s like.”

“H-her name’s Sarah, she’s uh, studying to be a doctor, sh-she’s way smarter than her old man, sh-she plays on the soccer team, got a scholarship for it ‘n everything, she loves music and going to too many damn concerts. She’s going to go deaf like me if she ain’t careful.”

“She sounds awesome,” you smile.

“She is, don’t know how I got so lucky.” 

“What do you do for work?” you keep him talking, making sure to distract Joel’s anxiety. 

“Contractor, I own a contracting service with my brother, we specialize in retail and office buildings.”

“Oh, that sounds like hard work, but it’s nice you get to work with your brother.”

“Could be better, could be worse,” he shrugs. 

“Hey, I’m an interior designer, we’re both in similar fields. How many carpenter pencils do you have? I probably have three floating around in my purse right now.”

He chuckles, his face loses its tenseness, Joel doesn’t attempt to take his hand from yours, and you don’t move to do it either. You work with contractors all the time, you’ve never seen one as gorgeous as him.

“My daughter always tried to get me to let her use ‘em for school work because they were a different shape, kept on having to take them away from her.” 

“She sounds tenacious.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he muses.

Good afternoon passengers. This is your captain speaking. First I'd like to welcome everyone on Flight 86A. We are currently cruising at an altitude of 33,000 feet at an airspeed of 400 miles per hour. We’re going to try to avoid the snow the best we can, we’ll keep you updated in case anything changes.

You’ve been entertaining Joel so much both of you didn’t notice you totally missed lift off and your ascent into the sky. 

“Would you look at that? We’re in the air, you only have four hours until you get to see her.”

“Thanks for that,” he says, moving his hand from yours. “I feel ridiculous.”

“No need, I’m happy I could help,” you shake the tenseness out of your hand after the twenty minutes of being in Joel’s vice grip.

“You alright? Did I hurt you?” his eyes round in guilt under his furrowed eyebrows focus on your hand. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you reassure. “You just have a strong grip. Must be all of that contractor business.”

He sends you a shy, crooked grin, “M’sorry.”

“I’ll survive, just like we’ll survive this flight together, Joel,” you wink.

He looks at you, his brown eyes turn darker and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “You’re quite someth–”

“May I offer you a drink?” the flight attendant interrupts. Worst fucking time.

You order an apple juice. Joel orders a black coffee. 

“Apple juice?” he asks. 

“Yeah, it’s kind of a tradition I have. I always get a cinnamon roll and apple juice every time I fly in the morning. Tastes kinda like apple pie when they’re together.”

“Hm, I don’t know about that,” he scrunches his nose and shakes his head. 

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” you shrug before pulling the cinnamon roll out of your bag.

You ask for an extra cup when the attendant brings yours and Joel’s drinks before ripping off half of the cinnamon roll and handing it to him. “Here.”

“No, no, it’s yours.” 

“Yeah, but I want to share,” you urge, “I got you a cup for apple juice too.” 

“If you insist,” he obliges, taking the soft pastry.

Half of your juice is poured into the extra cup before you hand it to him and raise your cup up to cheers. 

“To four hour flights and apple pie” you quip. 

“Cheers,” he says, gently shaking his head with eyes lit resembling something akin to affection.

You both take a drink of the sweet juice before picking up the cinnamon roll and taking a bite. 

“See?” you say, still chewing the sweet pastry. 

“Mmf,” he shakes his head and swallows. “Not apple pie, but pretty damn good.” He wipes the errant crumbs off of his mustache, you wonder if his lips taste like cinnamon and apples. 

“I’ll take pretty damn good,” you muse, picking up your magazine and settling into your seat. 

❄️❄️❄️

Joel glances towards you every chance he gets. He’s a realist, sometimes too much of one, he knows why he’s so calm during this flight– your comforting presence. He’s hated flying his whole life, his father never understood his fear, always telling him ‘I flew on planes bigger and louder than this all through the war, kid, buck up.’ Thanks dad, that’ll surely help the terrified eight year old crying and clutching to his mother. Sarah damn near broke his heart when she met him at the door excitedly waving the acceptance letter to a school 1,700 miles away. How could he crush his little girl’s dreams because her old man hates being in the sky? He got to bide his time, driving her in the moving truck to her new school, but now– with her first Christmas out of state and unable to fly home due to work– Joel was forced to step on the scary metal tube. 

He could hardly believe his luck when the pretty girl gazing out the window ended up being his seatmate; the excitement over being so close to you helped shield a bit of his trepidation over his first solo flight and then he went on to embarrass himself. You didn’t shake your head or shun him, you accepted and supported him. He can still feel your soft hand wrapped in his and hear your gentle voice coaching him down from a panic attack. You’re a complete stranger, and yet you’ve shown him more kindness than he’s allowed himself to accept in years. 

You adjust in your seat, your elbow brushes against his, little do you know he bunched up the sleeve of his flannel so he could feel the touch of your skin. 

He doesn’t know why you affect him the way that you do, it’s only been a couple of hours in the sky next to you, but he’s already trying to think of a way to give you his phone number. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, Captain Scott has informed us that we will be diverting to St. Louis due to the weather conditions at Philadelphia. We will be landing in approximately twenty minutes and will keep you advised about the continuation of this flight to our destination as information becomes available. We apologize for the inconvenience this may have caused. Thank you for your patience and understanding. We are aware that many of you have connecting flights departing Philadelphia. Our ground staff will work with you to confirm you on the next available flight to your destination. Thank you for your patience.

“Well, shit,” you sigh, placing your magazine down, rolling your neck and stretching your arms. “Had a feeling this might happen.”

“Shit indeed,” he sighs.

“How are you with landings, Joel?” you softly question. “Can I do anything for you?”

His heart skips, he hasn’t felt this feeling in years. Sure his little girl steals his heart every second of the day, but for a woman to make his heart race the way it is now making butterflies flutter through his stomach… that hasn’t happened in two decades. 

“No, I should be okay, thank you,” he says, feeling a bit foolish. 

“I’m here for you, okay?” The gentleness of your voice void of any judgment helps soothe his shame.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into St. Louis. Please turn off all portable electronic devices and stow them until we have arrived at the gate. In preparation for landing, please be certain your seat back is straight up and your seat belt is fastened. Please secure your carry-on items, stow your tray table, and pass any remaining service items and unwanted reading materials to the flight attendants. Thank you.

His breathing turns rapid, he feels the phantom of fear rearing its ugly head 10,000 feet above the ground. He’s seen far too many videos of planes spurting flames and panicked passengers escaping down blown up slides. He remembers Captain Sulley and the miracle on the Hudson… that ain’t no miracle. Joel Miller is a realist, how about everyone almost died in the Hudson? He tries to breathe like that weird lady on TikTok Sarah showed him… make a square with every breath? Or make a line and then breathe? Christ, he can’t remember. His lips part to inhale more stale pressurized oxygen trying to calm his pulsating heart. This time your hand grabs his, he looks over at your face set soft with a reassuring smile, a wash of calm runs through him. You’re so beautiful.

“You’re alright Joel, I’m here with you,” you gently lilt.

He focuses on the soft back and forth of your fingers against him, centering himself and making the phantom back away. He loves the way your soft skin looks against his. Your nails are painted a light blue, it reminds him of the bright Texas morning sky. 

The plane descends as you hold his eye contact with that same beautiful and assuring smile lighting up your face. 

“We’re almost on the ground, you’re doing so good,” fear and veneration perform a duet in his heart making it pound against his chest. 

The wheels hit the tarmac, he lets out a huge breath of relief. Your hand still holds his, even as he visibly relaxes. He watches the light blue of your nail polish swipe back and forth against the top of his hand. 

Ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to St. Louis. The local time is 9:45 AM. For your safety and the safety of those around you, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened and keep the aisle clear until we are parked at the gate. The Captain will then turn off the “Fasten Seat Belt” sign, indicating it is safe to stand. Please use caution when opening the overhead compartments and removing items, since articles may have shifted during flight. We thank you for your patience, rest assured our staff is here to help you.

“Well, I know it’s not home, or Sarah… but we’ll make the best of it,” you say, pulling your bag out from underneath the seat. He loves how positive you are, he needs someone like you in his life.

❄️❄️❄️

Three hours of being stuck in the airport have slowly ticked by, at least you have the company of your new travel partner. You check your weather app for the millionth time, no change at all… snow still falls all along the tri-state area.

“Anything?” he asks, looking up from his Sports Illustrated. 

“No luck,” you shrug, “I’m starving.” 

“Come on,” he points his head towards the restaurant near the gate, “my treat.”

You follow him, wondering why you feel so excited over this impromptu lunch date. You can’t deny your attraction to him, an inkling inside of you makes you believe Joel might feel the same. Yeah, you might be stuck in St. Louis, your return to your comfortable bed and bathtub postponed due to the falling snow, but at least you have your handsome flight partner with you. 

The restaurant is nice, a typical Concourse B type place full of simple people enjoying a hot meal, simple menu, a simple design inspired by of all things– airplanes. 

Joel asks for a table near the window, the hostess obliges, leading you to a table in a quiet section of the restaurant. He pulls the chair out for you, southern manners and all. 

He takes a seat with a humph, mumbling how tight his back is from all of the damn sitting. You order a hot tea, he orders a coffee. 

You’ve known him for a grand six hours and yet you’re going to remember this usually milquetoast adventure for a long, long time. 

“What’re you thinking?” he asks, perusing the menu. 

“Turkey sandwich and soup,” you answer, mouth already watering at the idea of your meal. “You?”

“Burger ‘n fries. I’m hungry though that half of a cinnamon roll sure did satisfy,” he sends you a barely perceptible wink. 

“So, do you have any plans for you and your daughter?”

“She says she has an idea or two for us, she’s a planner, I’m just there to see her, this is the longest I’ve been away from her.” His voice drops, a slight hitch in his breath appears, you can feel the sadness radiating off of him. He must be such a good dad.

“Sounds rough,” you empathize, wishing you could recreate what happened on the plane and put your hand over his while telling him everything will be okay.

“Yeah, it’s been difficult, it’s just been me and her since forever. I know she’s happy and fulfilled, that's all I can ask for.” 

You wonder where Sarah’s mom went, why it’s just the two of them, and most of all if he’s single. How can you be falling for this almost stranger and his big heart that sits below his broad, flannel covered chest?

“I moved far away for art school and it was the best decision I ever made. I'm so thankful for my parents letting me have that experience. You should be proud of her… and most of all you should be proud of you.”

He looks over the brim of his coffee mug, takes a drink, and places it down on the table before grabbing your hand.

“You’re so– I’ve never met anybody like you before,” he says, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles. 

The restaurant and airport disappear from your periphery, it’s only you and this man from Austin on the way to your hometown to see his daughter. This has never happened to you before… a spark of something you have no clue what to call shared between the two of you. 

“I could say the same thing to y–,” you're interrupted by the waitress’s arrival, Joel’s hand retreats from yours; the physical and emotional connection between you and Joel is broken by your food being placed on the table. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Joel asks as he grabs the Tabasco bottle and shakes a smattering of drops over his burger. 

“No clue,” you sigh, “I wish I could take a nap. What did your daughter say when you told her?”

“Oh, she was fine, disappointed but she told me she’ll still get over a week with me once I get there,” he shakes his head, his face lifts with a doting grin. “She’s always the glass half full type.”

“And let me guess, you’re much more of a ��the damn glass is half empty’ type?” 

“Always.” 

“Mm,” you nod, before taking a bite of your turkey sandwich. 

❄️❄️❄️

His heart beats harder against his chest as he watches you approach him from the ticket counter. 

“Any new update?” he’s nervous, he hasn’t felt this nervous in years. He never realized how much he missed this type of emotional tension that pulls his back to stand straighter. 

“The storm hasn’t let up, all airports in the area are on a ground stop, and now with the storm here, I think we’re screwed,” you close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. You look exhausted, spending all day in a packed airport has obviously taken its toll on you. He wants to wrap his arms around you, carry you to whatever destination you need to go to and never let go. He can’t believe he’s thinking like this, he doesn’t even know your favorite color or movie. “I’m sorry Joel.” 

He hates watching your face drop, you’ve done nothing wrong. “Hey, none of that,” he takes a tentative step forward, he’s worried to overcross a line, but your sunken shoulders and defeated posture pushes him forward. He wraps his flannel clad arms around you, pulling you into a hug. Your body instantly molds to his, finding the perfect spot on his chest to rest your head against. A sweet and grateful sigh breathes out of you, radiating through his whole body. 

“Looked like you needed this,” he says against your hair, breathing the feminine scent of you in. He hasn’t been this close to a woman like this in years. Sure he’s had some hookups here and there, but a real honest to goodness connection with someone after only half of a day spent together? Never happened. He feels lucky.

“I did, thank you,” you breathe out. He still holds you, making zero attempt to let go. You imagine to the average passerby you resemble a couple in love, standing in the airport terminal, holding each other. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks, still holding you tight. “I think there’s a pretty good restaurant here.”

“I am, a real nice guy once took me to lunch there,” you pull away. “It’s my treat this time.”

❄️❄️❄️

Joel stands at the ticket desk, it’s now his turn to see if there have been any changes. It’s been twelve hours of being marooned in this airport, you should feel more miserable at this point, but the constant support the two of you trade back and forth to each other has helped alleviate the ugliness of stress. 

“Any luck?” you ask, perking up when he stands in front of you.

“Actually, yeah, they have a 9 AM flight to Philly tomorrow afternoon,” he says, tucking his ticket into his pocket. You can’t look him in the eyes, if you do you’re going to think about how much you’re going to miss him… this man you’ve only known for a grand total of twelve hours. “There’s two seats left… and I got one. The lady at the desk is waiting for my fiancee to go get her ticket.”

Your eyes widen at what he implies.

“Oh, ohhhhhh,” you grin. “Clever man.”

“Yeah, I need your help, since I’m a nervous flier and all…”

Your knees feel weak from the doting smile Joel gives you. “Thanks love,” you stretch and kiss his cheek before heading to the ticket counter.

❄️❄️❄️

He can’t keep his eyes off of you as you walk over to the counter. He can still feel your lips against his cheek, there’s a foreign feeling in his heart. He’s already thinking about introducing you to Sarah, what the hell is this? 

The airport worker laughs at something you say, of course they’re charmed by you, you’re such a sweet thing, like cinnamon rolls and apple juice. 

You turn, a big smile lights your face when you walk back to him, waving your ticket in the air. 

He chuckles out a nervous snicker when you skip over and wrap your arms around him.

“The agent pulled in a favor and got us a room at the hotel attached here, she said she has a softness for ‘lovebirds’ like us,” you pull away with a mischievous glint lighting your face. “Plus, she thinks my fiance is handsome.”

“Uh… okay,” he’s not sure what you’re implying, you’re far too special to him already for a one-night romp in a hotel room. 

“No funny business Joel,” you wink as you grab your bag. He can’t believe how well you read him. “Now, let’s go get our luggage and check in.” 

❄️❄️❄️

You enter the keycard into the door thanking that lovely ticket agent for access to a comfortable bed. And it’s just as you feared… a bed…  just one, singular bed that greets you in this average airport hotel room. 

“I can take the chair,” Joel nervously says.

Part of you wishes he wouldn’t have offered.

“If you want, but the bed is big enough for both of us,” you shrug out of your jacket. 

“S’okay, wouldn’t feel right.”

It’d feel just fine to you, but you don’t say anything, instead you open your luggage and fish out your toiletry bag and your pajamas. 

“It’s almost midnight, I’m going to get my shower and get ready for bed.”

❄️❄️❄️

His foot nervously taps against the carpet, goosebumps prickle along his arms when he hears your sigh reverberate against the shower tiles. Why is he so anxious? It feels like prom night all over again; he’s just a shy boy waiting for the beautiful girl to give him a sign, any sign, that she likes him. The last time he felt like this Sarah was born nine months later.

He grabs the TV remote trying to find a reprieve from his anxious thoughts, flipping it to the news. The anchor drones on about the great holiday snowstorm. In a way, he’s thankful for the blizzard– sure it means even more time in a flying panic tube, but at least he met you. He vows to not let any type of temptation get in the way of what feelings are developing between you two. No matter how much he thinks about your naked body in the shower and how good your body wash smells. 

❄️❄️❄️

You emerge from the bathroom, clean and fresh in your pajamas. 

“Should’ve figured you’d be an Eagles fan,” he says, smirking at your oversized and faded sleep shirt.

“Let me guess, Cowboys fan?”

“Forever and always.”

“Oh, well, you’re my enemy now.”

He laughs, “I’m sure I am.” 

You tuck yourself under the covers while Joel takes his shower, quickly falling asleep to the sounds of whatever generic late night host is cracking jokes on the TV. 

❄️❄️❄️

He quietly opens the bathroom door, the hotel room is bathed in the dim glow of the television. You're already fast asleep, cuddled under the white duvet, you look like an angel surrounded by clouds. Of course you're beautiful when you sleep. He tries not to stare too long, and yet he's planted in the threshold of the bedroom admiring you. He feels lucky at this moment, being able to watch someone as pretty as you slumber peacefully, while trying to silence the fact that tomorrow you both will go your separate ways. He doesn't want to say goodbye.

❄️❄️❄️

A bassy groan and shuffle in the dark floats through the air waking you. The clock reads 1:45 AM. “There’s enough room in the bed for you, you know?”

“I know, just don’t want to overst– I’m still a stranger.”

“No, you’re my fiance, remember?” you shuffle the sheets on the other side of the bed down, “Joel, please, I insist.”

He sighs when he stands and makes his way to the bed. The mattress dips under his weight, you can feel heated tension radiating off his body, the strong specimen of all man lays insecurely next to you. 

“Joel, relax,” you whisper before placing your hand on his chest feeling the rapid beat of his heart. 

“I’m okay, I-I just– haven’t done something like this in so long.”

“What? Laid in bed next to someone you’ve known less than a day? I’ve actually never done this.”

A quiet laugh rumbles in his chest. “No, just haven’t met someone as real as you in a long time. Is it real?”

“It’s real,” you say, shuffling closer to him, replacing your hand with your head. He wraps his arm around you as you listen to the pitter patter of his heart. “Goodnight Joel,” you whisper, closing your exhausted eyes. 

“G’night,” he purrs, you feel the ghost of his lips against your hair as you drift to sleep. 

❄️❄️❄️

He lays awake most of the night, too afraid to fall asleep and disturb your beautiful sleeping form. He wishes he could record the cute sounds that emit from you as you slumber and dream, he’d listen to them forever if he could. He can’t believe he’s thinking this way, what should’ve been a terrifying and lonely standard trip to see his daughter has turned into an adventure of a lifetime with a woman he’s already crazy for. 

Sure, he’s shared a bed with others since Sarah’s mom, he’s had a couple of flings here and there, but he never allowed himself to cuddle or care for them. They were never good enough for him… or most importantly Sarah. He thinks Sarah would adore you. 

The red digits on the alarm clock read 3:00 AM, he’s known you for a grand total of twenty hours. Meaning he only has about eight hours left, he’s already dreading saying goodbye. 

❄️❄️❄️

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Your groggy eyes open, you move to silence the alarm but you quickly realize you’re trapped under a heavy weight. Joel. He groans against you, with his arms held tight around your stomach and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. 

“Joel, it’s time to get up.”

He tenses against you and quickly unwraps your body from his hold.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly says, reaching across you to turn the alarm off. 

“It’s okay,” you want to tell him you didn’t mind it all, that you haven’t slept that well in years, but you stay quiet. 

“I’m just going to… get ready,” he stands, stretching and wiping his tired eyes. You try not to focus on the glimpse of his stomach remembering what it felt to have the soft swell of him against your back. “Don’t think I’ve slept that well in years.”

The bathroom door shuts as you flop back into bed, welcoming the fluttery feeling inside your body. “I feel the same way,” you confess to the empty hotel room. 

❄️❄️❄️

Flight attendants, prepare doors for departure and cross check.

“Well, we’re back to where we started, it’s been quite an adventure,” you smile.

“It has,” he clears his throat, reaches for your hand and sends you a soft smile. “I have ten days in Philadelphia, I was wondering if you have any good suggestions for a nice, romantic place to take someone I really like to?” 

[lucky-bucky-boy]

could you write something abt eddie munson meeting a new girl in town? it doesn't have to be smut ty!!!!!!!

tw: alcohol consumption, slight description of reader having tattoos

The murmur of the slightly run-down dive bar was nothing new to Eddie, the same customers, the same stale beer, the same old songs playing on the jukebox. To an extent, he enjoyed the familiarity and routine that the place offered.

Every Tuesday, after a grueling 8-hour shift at the auto shop a mile down the road, Eddie would stop in for a beer. He'd offer his conversation and flirtation to Ms. Caroline, the older lady who'd been working in the bar well before Eddie was even old enough to form a thought, which would usually end in him not paying for the bottle of semi-warm liquid. But not today.

Eddie was stopped dead in his tracks as he walked into a much more brightly lit bar, quickly noticing the smell of cleaning solutions and the fact that the curtains were drawn and the sunshine was beating in. Thunderstruck by AC/DC was coming from the jukebox and for a moment he thought he was in the wrong place - but the old, almost yellowed sound machine let him know that he wasn't.

"Come on in, we're still open! Just getting some things cleaned up and updated, hun!" A voice he didn't recognize carried from behind the bar causing his gaze to move to where the sound came from.

Eddie's throat immediately went dry but his feet were already moving to the bar, curiosity peaking about the new face. He found his normal seat, scanning to notice the small changes. The mirror behind the bottles was cleaned, some postcards and letters were stuck to the glass of it, and at the end of the bar laid some swatches of fabric and paint chips as well as multiple bottles of cleaner.

"What can I getcha?" The girl in front of him asked, a bright and warm smile on her face.

"I - uh-" Eddie cleared his throat, finally coming back to Earth, "The cheapest bottle of beer you've got."

"Oh! You must be Eddie then," the girl giggled and for a moment Eddie thought he could hear angels singing, "Ms. Caroline told me about you. Warned me about the best head of hair and smile in town. She also told me to tell you this one's on her." The girl slid the bottle of beer over to him.

Eddie quickly took a swig, noticing immediately the cool temperature of it. "Oh really?" he asked after swallowing down the yellow liquid, "Speaking of my favorite old lady, where's she at?"

"She's on a vacation. Went out to Indianapolis to visit her son and daughter-in-law for a week. When I got here a couple weeks back she told me she hadn't had a vacation in over 5 years, and ain't even seen her son in almost 2. Old owners wouldn't let her take a break."

Eddie was listening, or at least he was trying to, but he couldn't stop looking at the tattoos that adorned the skin he could see on the girl in front of him. He was curious more than anything, seeing the solid lines and intricate details of every piece of art she had littered across her skin. It took him more than a second to process what she had told him. "Old owners?"

"Yep," she popped the 'p', holding back a smirk as she watched Eddie. "Just spent my savings on this place so she's all mine."

At this point, Eddie was impressed and reeling. His eyes finally moved from her arms to look at her face, flushing a bright red when he noticed she was watching him as she continued to clean bottles of liquor. "Sorry, your tattoos look sick and I-"

"Not used to girls having tattoos or owning a bar?" She asked with a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Uh, yeah, to both of those." He chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head. He couldn't believe he was acting like he never talked to a girl before. He took another swig of his beer before continuing, "Not used to it, but definitely not complaining."

She giggled once more, "Good." She placed her rag and bottle down, moving to lean her elbows on the bar, head in her hands as she looked at Eddie. "I'm (Y/N), by the way. And I've got a bit of a proposition for you Eddie."

He cocked his eyebrows, looking at her from down the bottle as he finished his beer with a soft nod to continue.

"Well, your favorite old lady said you were a bit of a handyman. Aaand," she drew as the word, tone sounding as sweet as candy," as you can tell, I'm fixing some things up and trying to turn this place around. I could use some help, aespecially since I don't know many people here yet. Whatcha say? I'll let you continue with your free cheap beers and throw in a few hundred dollars for every job you finish for me."

Eddie chuckled softly himself, smiling a bit, "You had me at free beers, sweetheart."

[mossyscavern]

Who was that guy?

_________________

Ok, I should start this from the beginning.

My name is ganke Lee. And I’m no spider-man. I’m just a guy who games, reads comics, does my school work and gets thrown into my roommates spider- antics.

And this month’s antics for the day? Well…

“Hello!”

“Hey- AHH! GEEZ WTF!” I shouted, fell out of my chair to see some-.. other spider-guy! Out our window. “Sorry to intrude but is this miles school?” The dude asked with a pretty thick Indian accent. “Uh.. yeah?” Is all I can get out.

“Awesome! And is this miles dorm?” The Indian accented spider asked again, tilting his head. All I can do at that moment is nod. “Great! Can you give this to him? Tell him it’s urgent.” He asked, handing me an envelope.

“Uh.. I guess?” I said, taking the envelope from his hand. “Alright, see you probably nevveeerrr!” He shouts, swinging away as his voice went away.

“… that’s weird.” I said stupidly, before dropping the letter and immediately scratching the hand that held it. “Ugh, fucking love letters!” I said annoyingly out loud, staring daggers at the bloody thing.

I’m not entirely allergic to the actual letter, just the envelope itself, specifically from a tree it’s made from… don’t ask.

So by the time miles came back from whatever spider- man thing he did, I handing him the letter with a glove on this time. “What’s with the glove?” He asked.

“I’m allergic to love letters.” I told him as he took the letter from me. “H-how-?” “Don’t ask.” I told him, turning around to my monitor again.

———

“Oh, hello again!”

I heard from beside me, I turned and saw the same guy from last week. “… hey yourself?” I questioned mostly. “Why come back?” I asked him.

“Oh I’m one of miles spider-friends!” He said so casually. Thank god I knew miles spider-identity, thank god.

“… alright, we’ll miles is dealing with the rhino so I don’t know when he’ll be back.” I said, shrugging it off and returned to my game.

“Y-! Wh-.. you knew?!” He sputtered out. “Yep. I’m sort of his… guy in the chair? I didn’t have much of a choice.” I explained, not very helpfully but still explained it.

“Oh, well… that’s fine. Can you give this to him?” He asked, holding out a container with something good smelling. “What’s this?” I asked, taking the container.

“Pakora vada pav, try not to eat it.” He says, before swinging away. I looked back at the container in hand, shrugged, got up and placed it on miles bunk.

———

“Welcome back.” I said, before looking at the window.

“Woah. That often huh?” He asked, then I turned my head. “You have no idea-… are those sunflowers?” I asked, seeing the bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

“Oh, yeah, it’s for miles.” He says, jumping in the dorm o n it’s roof and placing the flowers on the top bunk. “Are you two..?”

“Yep!” He says, jumping down from the ceiling. “Me, miles and my girlfriend.” He says, dusting his hands off.

‘Huh… no wonder he was smiling goofily at that letter.’ I thought, remembering how he was giggling. And when he saw the food on the bed he looked super happy. Just like when his mom brought over her food.

It was super awkward with both of us. I was silent, he was silent.. it was super awkward. “… Welp, gotta go! See you later ganke!” My eyes widened when he said that. “Dude! I didn’t tell you my name! How?!”

“Miles told me.. oh! My names Pavitr Prabhakar by the way!” He says before swinging out again… until maybe next week

… great, I’m being thrown into miles spider-man life again… fun.

_________________

… to be fair it isn’t spider-verse without adding in ganke lee…

who is regretting ever finding out his roommate is spider-man cause of the spider-shenanigans he’s being thrown in.

Soo might as well let ganke have the spotlight, even though he’s just suffering from being spider-man’s friend-.

Ok but jokes aside… I just wanna write about his side of the spider-gang shenanigans and just… thrown in chaiflower/chaimodelflower

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

9-1-1 Headcanons/Crack

A/N: I found this hiding in my drafts and giggled to myself way too much to not post it lmao.

- Athena kills the spiders. Bobby nopes the fuck away from them as soon as he sees them.

- The team prefers Buck stay away from large amounts of caffeine. Now it's bc they're terrified his heart will give out but before the lightning it was bc the adorable little shit would be bouncing off the walls after one RedBull. (Oh how I miss the days when caffeine gave me that kind of boost)

- Cat People: Buck, Hen, and Bobby

- Dog People: Eddie, Athena, Maddie

- Maddie & Buck take pinky promises VERY seriously. To them they're as serious as signing a legally binding contract or even selling your soul.

- Buck has a tiny adorable sneeze and it's never just one, always a minimum of three. Eddie & Bobby both scream sneeze but usually only once.

- God forbid Buck gets the hiccups. Bc not only do they last forever but he acts like they're gonna kill him.

- The one time the team managed to have a horror movie night the entire living room was covered in popcorn by the end of it bc Buck & Eddie hate horror movies and every time they got jump scared they flung their popcorn. And holy shit Buck screams like a girl. One of the scares made him scream so loud that he scared Eddie who was sitting right beside him who then launched his popcorn over his head and everyone behind them got showered in popcorn before the bowl landed on Bobby's head upside down like a hat.

- Nobody will even mention a haunted house because one Halloween, Hen snuck up behind Buck and whispered boo. The poor goof started flinging his arms around and accidentally smacked the shit out of Hen.

- Saw a meme with Buck thats said something about whats the word for when your hands are bisexual. Here's my take. Buck was trying to explain that he is ambidextrous one day but couldn't remember the word. "Damn it, what the hell is the word for when you can- for when- bisexual hands?!" Hen laughed so hard she nearly pissed herself before answering him "Ambidextrous, Buck."

- Saw someone headcanon that Hen and Buck bought Eddie a fake plant and convinced him was real as a prank. I think pranks are a common occurrence around the 118 but that prank specifically is the longest running and is stil going despite the fact that Buck nearly bursts into a fit of giggles every time he sees Eddie water the damn thing. Eddie actually knows its fake but his friends get a kick out of it so he plays along.

- The word's hippopotamus and Worcestershire are running jokes/challenges for the 118 team. For hippopotamus the challenge is to fit as many ps in there as possible. For Worcestershire it's just seeing who can pronounce it the most incorrect way.

- Buck loves to research shit right? He also enjoys reading. However, just because he can read big words doesn't mean he pronounces them correctly. The team is often lovingly correcting him on his pronunciation. Or sometimes he'll straight up spit out a word and hope they can play auto correct for him and figure it out.

- Hen can smell a budding romance from a mile away. She's also the queen of bets. So far, she holds the record for most bets won amongst the 118.

- Somehow various slang has made its way into 118's vocabulary. No one will ever forget the night Buck made dinner and Bobby took a bite before proceeding to claim it was "bussin'". Or the way Eddie always tells people "don't be so salty."

- The best people at sensing when Buck is about to be Buck are Maddie, Bobby, and Athena.

- Occasionally, someone will host a grill out and yep you guessed it, Bobby and Chimney man the grill (mostly Bobby) in full dad attire. When asked why, their response had the same vibes as "for shits and giggles".

- Buck has taken a liking to the phrase "Fuck it we ball," which terrifies everyone.

- That one tiktok audio but make it Eddie & Buck: Eddie: *lots of angry spanish* Buck: Someone tell me what he's saying! Wtf is he saying?! Dude, I don't speak Taco Bell! Buck can somewhat keep up with and understand it when Eddie is speaking slowly due to his time in Peru but damnit his brain doesn't process fast enough to translate the angry Spanish.

- Everyone has a habit of leaving their LAFD hoodies laying around and Buck has a habit of picking them up and pulling them on when he's cold without paying attention to what name is on the back. He once wandered up to dinner with Diaz written across his back. No one batted an eye except Eddie who pointed it out. Buck's only response was, "I knew this didn't smell right." Buck has also been caught wearing Bobby's hoodie a few times.

- Wait a damn minute. Let's talk scents. Buck wears a cologne that smells like cinnamon and fire. Eddie has a sandalwood or pine vibe. Chimney wears a citrusy scent. Bobby has an herby scent like maybe rosemary or just mint. Hen has a warm and cozy scent vibe to me so maybe vanilla and leather.

Masterlist

[justice4billiam]

Math Class

So there was this one moment in time in high school where I actually liked a guy (I know, weird concept, just go with it) who sat in front of me in my math class.

Something you should know about me, I fucking suck at math.

Another thing you should know about me, I was kind of a dick in high school.

Okay, I’m still kind of a dick, but a nice one.

However in high school, I was extra dick-ish (I’m sure it had to do with all raging teenage hormones and a shit childhood)

Anyway.

I fucking sucked at math.

And what happens when you suck at math?

Your teacher assigns you a tutor to help “guide you to the path of success” or whatever she said.

Cool.

No big deal, right?

Wrong.

She assigned me to the nearest person to me.

The fucking guy I had a crush on.

Who thought I was the fucking worst.

Now you’re probably thinking nooo, he couldn’t possibly think that way about you. I’m sure it was all in your head

Well, you’re wrong. The guy hated me.

BUT for good reason.

He just so happened to be the brother of the girl I beat up half a week earlier in gym class.

NOW.

I didn't beat her up just because…no. She was an absolute terror to this disabled girl in said gym class.

She would verbally bully her to the point of tears.

But that one particular day she physically shoved her to the ground while we were all running the mile.

Remember how I said I was a dick?

Well, I used my powers for good. (mostly)

I watched that shit happen.

Then came strolling up to her while she was shooting the shit with her friends and shoved that bish so hard.

Her stupid unblended orange face (this was the early 2010s guys, no one wore the right makeup shade or blended their foundation into their damn necks) bounced off the concrete floor.

Let me just tell you…it was satisfying as hell.

It started a full on fight of which resulted in her getting her ass handed to her.

So you see, her brother hated me

And I didn't blame him

A sister is a sister.

You stand by your siblings, I get it.

BUT.

I had a big fat crush on him and now he was to tutor me.

Let me tell you, he was NOT happy about it.

I distinctly remember the look on his face the second the teacher called his name out to work with me.

It was the kind of face you make when you smell roadkill wafting through your car vents because you have outside air circulating while you're going 65mph(that's 96.56kmph) on a back road.

The look fueled the need to make him like me.

Those who know me now, know I'm a cheeky, flirty little shit.

So not to toot my own horn but it's hard NOT to like me.

(Is that my god-complex talking? Probably)

I can get along with just about anyone.

Not so surprisingly after about 30 minutes of flirting my way into his heart, I had him FLUSTERED.

I'm talking man giggling.

Blushed cheeks.

Couldn't even make eye contact with me.

FLUSTERED.

Don't like who?

Not me.

I'm sure you're probably wondering where I'm going with this.

Well, after class ended he invited me over to his house after school.

A normal person probably wouldn't go to the house of the girl you beat up and meet her parents while on her brother's arm.

I did.

I went.

I wish I had taken a picture of her face when I walked into her house. (she had stayed home the rest of that week because I beat her ass)

Honestly, it was a core memory.

The best part was her parents didn't know it was me who did it.

It was such an eventful week for me.

Monday: bully the bully

Tuesday: ice my hand from bullying the bully

Wednesday: suck at math

Thursday: rizz the bully's brother and come home with him to have dinner with bully and her family.

Friday: DATE THE BULLYS BROTHER.

Yep. You heard me.

That dinner went so well that the guy asked me out.

And I said yes.

I then proceeded to date him the whole year and become best friends with her mom.

Oh yeah, and I still failed math.

I'm gonna make this a series 🤭

@voyeurmunson im sure you'd get a giggle out of this. 😅🤭

[quiet-compassion]

OFMD Fluffvember Day 3: Ocean Waves

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51421063

Being on land long-term is…

Look, it’s great, but it’s also a mind-fuck. You don’t spend your entire life at sea without growing accustomed to being on the ocean. Waking up in a steady bed, walking on floors that aren’t constantly wet, not having to chart a course every day, it’s weird. And yeah, there was a reason he wanted a change; he loves their little house, loves the life he and Stede are building together. It offers a new routine, one they can establish together, and he doesn’t have to play pretend. He can just be Ed.

That’s something he worries about sometimes; that instead of allowing him to be himself, this will become just another role for him to perform. The Innkeeper. Jeff. He doesn’t want that. He’s trying not to do that. But it can be hard to know what’s authentic and what’s performative when you’ve spent so long playing a part.

Like he said, it’s a mind-fuck. So, sometimes he’s just gotta go to the ocean. 

Not just look at the shoreline from their window. In moments like this, when he feels muddled and rudderless, Ed heads down the beach to the little cove a mile or two past their property. He climbs up one of the craggily rocks, knee be damned, and sits with his feet in the water. With his eyes closed, feeling the waves crash against his shins, smelling the briny air, he can almost imagine he’s back on deck dangling his legs over the side of the ship. 

The familiarity of it usually helps him feel more centered. He breathes in the salty mist and sorts through elements of his life, of himself, trying to categorize each aspect as “Ed” or “not Ed”. Today the sorting feels tricky. The roar of the water is almost as loud as his inner dialogue, and what’s supposed to be an exercise in mindfulness is rapidly transforming into a tempest inside his head.

“Wow! Look at that. That one’s definitely a keeper!”

Squawk!

“Have you found something, Buttons? Oh, a starfish! Well done, you. No, don’t eat it! Come on, man!”

Ed opens his eyes and turns his head towards the direction of Stede’s voice. He finds him kneeling a bit away by a tide pool, frantically shooing a seagull away from the creatures below the surface.

Fighting a grin, Ed whistles to catch his attention.

“Babe! You alright down there?”

“Oh! Hello, love! Fancy meeting you here.”

Ed pushes off the rock he’s been sitting on, waving off Stede’s shout to be careful, and makes his way over to the tide pool to give him a kiss.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Well, I thought I might collect some sea shells. Thought they might make for some nice decorative touches for the inn. Look at this one!” He opens his fist to show Ed a particularly large cockle shell. Ed nods appreciatively, taking it from Stede’s hand to examine it more closely.

“Good one. Yep, nice. Though decorating the inn might be putting the stern before the bow. We don’t even have proper windows, love.”

“Well, they’ll keep till we’re ready. Plus you never know how much a little cosmetic sprucing can help boost the vibe of a place. Anyway, I was looking for shells, and then Buttons started pointing out all the fascinating little critters.”

The seagull who may or may not be Buttons, flies off at this point. No doubt to find a spot of beach where he won’t be chastised for trying to catch dinner. Stede waves after him, before turning back to Ed.

“I had no clue you were down this far, darling. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Nah, mate. All good. Glad to see you really. I was just trying to untangle my thoughts is all.”

“Anything that can be helped by talking it through?” Stede takes his hand and they begin slowly making their way back towards their cabin. Ed considers for a moment, idly running his thumb back and forth across Stede’s knuckles.

“It’s just…how do you know what things are you?” At Stede’s look of confusion, he tries again. “I’m trying to just be Ed, right? But I’m not sure I know who Ed is, what Ed wants��besides you obviously.”

Stede preens a bit at that before schooling his face back into a look of consideration, nodding for Ed to continue. “Just, you’re so, so completely Stede. Stede loves flowers and sea shells, and going for nature walks, and a good story, and fine craftsmanship. Stede is friendly and kind of a bitch and he’s gentle and creative. What does Ed like? What kind of person is he?”

He scowls, dipping his head forward so that the curtain of his hair covers his face. Even though it’s just the two of them, he still feels raw and vulnerable with the admission.

“I dunno, man. Maybe I’ve spent so long not being Ed that he just doesn’t exist anymore.”

Stede shakes his head vehemently. “I’m sorry, dear, but that’s nonsense. I know Ed quite well, as it happens. I can assure you that he’s real. I’d be happy to introduce you if you like.”

Ed turns towards him, a little hesitantly. “Go on then.”

Stede takes a deep breath, looking out towards the water for a moment as he gathers his thoughts. “Ed loves sweets—sweet tea, jams and marmalades, cakes with lots of icing. Anything with heaps of sugar really. He loves games. Well, he loves winning games. Frankly, he’s a pretty terrible loser, but luckily he almost always wins. He also loves good stories and he has a very discerning eye for fashion. He cooks a mean snake but always burns the toast. He loves adventure and excitement, but he also adores slow quiet mornings and cozy evenings.”

He smiles, eyes still on the waves. “Ed is whipsmart and also extremely silly. He’s thoughtful and encouraging, and, whenever you’re around him, it’s like the world seems to open up with innumerable possibilities. That’s it, really: Ed is dynamic, constantly growing and evolving. Never just one thing.”

Ed stands enraptured, as Stede’s words wash over him. And he realizes that Stede has done what the sea couldn’t seem to; he’s quieted Ed’s thoughts, brought him back into his body. Grounded him. He doesn’t need to put himself inside a box—doesn’t need to dissect every facet of himself like variables in some equation that needs balancing. He can accept all of it. Options. Possibilities.

“Well, shit. He sounds pretty cool. I can see why you like him,” Ed jokes, because if he doesn’t joke right now, he’ll cry.

“I do like him. I love him as it happens. Rather a lot.”

“He loves you too.”

Stede squeezes the hand still clasped in his own and brings the other up to pat Ed’s cheek. “I know that.” 

They resume their walk back at a leisurely pace. There’s no hurry after all. Stede stops from time to time to examine shells or interesting rocks. Ed skips stones across the water’s surface, sending each one further than the last. Eventually, he shoots Stede a mischievous look.

“Hey, you never said. This Ed guy—is he good-looking?”

Stede huffs out a laugh. “Stunning. Especially when he’s fishing for compliments.”

“Is he good in bed?”

Stede glares at him at that, but Ed merely raises his eyebrows staring back expectantly. After a brief stare-down, Stede clicks his tongue and responds with exasperation. “Extremely.”

Ed smirks at him and leans in to kiss him. He should see it coming when Stede turns the tables on him, dipping Ed backward and deepening the kiss into something incredibly passionate and filthy. After a moment, he pulls away to look Ed dead in the eyes.

“And Stede?”

Ed doesn’t hesitate. “Oh fuck yeah. He rocks my fucking world.”

They straighten back up, both grinning now. And if they make their way home with a good deal more haste, well, what’s stopping them?

[pick-em-pool]

WEEK 10

HELLO EVERYONE! WE are in DOUBLE DIGITS NOW ⏰⏰⏰ As we finish up week 10 🚨🚨🚨 It's officially the home stretch, who has got what it TAKES to claim the top Prize and the big bucks??? 💸💸💸

ABBY - 10 POINTS

Abby is INCHING 🐛 closer to Lisa in the standings here! Maybe you won't beat her in the pool, but I have another way for you all to win some money 💲💲💲 I have insider information that Abby met up with her friend G last weekend and personally drained Florida of all its alcoholic beverages. My advice: buy McDonald's stock Ⓜ After Abby has drank Florida from swampland into a desert I know for sure she spent an amount of money on McNuggets that would exceed the GDP of Zimbabwe 💰💰💰

GABBY - 10 POINTS

A great week for Gabby puts her within STRIKING 🎳 distance of Lisa. Does Abby have what it takes to - wait, Gabby - wait, no, Abby? All I'm saying is that Gabigail, wait no Abbrielle, wait, what? Can one of you two please change your names?! 👿 I keep getting confused here, why can't you two be different? I'm thinking Gabby and.... Bert 👍 Yep. Love it, keep it up Bert!

PEYTON - 9 POINTS

Peyton will be hanging out with your fearless commissioner this weekend, cheering on the gals for their half marathon 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♀️ The commish isn't running because he is a lazy sack of crap prefers Mimosa over Miles 🍾🍾🍾 Pey-Pey is not participating because the last time he ran in a crowd he was tackled by animal control employees assuming a giraffe had escaped the local zoo 🦒

JJ - 9 POINTS

our C A L I F O R N I A man clocked a solid week this go round 👍 and is firmly in the hunt for some moolah 💸💸💸 Interestingly enough, in his Anaheim Ducks interview no one asked him about his pick-em-pool performance NOT EVEN ONCE 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ I guess there's no real sports fans in Anaheim, what a shame ����

JANIE - 9 POINTS

Janie AKA Juliette's agent inches up another place this week 🧗‍♀️ All this work getting Juliette signed has really turned her in to quite the athlete's representative 🕶🕶🕶 Last week she got me signed to a sweet deal to be sponsored by Dr. Sniffer's Medical Strength Deodorant... was she trying to tell me something? 👃👃👃

LISA - 9 POINTS

The 9 point score does not faze Lisa 🧘‍♀️🧘‍♂️🧘‍♀️ Mediating away in the wonderfully bucolic countryside of Arizona as she is. She's learning to take in the simple pleasures there 😊 A beautiful sunset. A warm cup of tea. The sound of an annoying patient collapsing into a deep sleep after you syringe their ungrateful ass with enough anesthesia to tranquilize a polar bear. A blooming flower. A rainbow. 🌈🌈🌈

RUSTY - 8 POINTS

Alllll season our boy Rusty has been just a point or two behind each week 📏📏📏 BUT don't give up hope yet 🙏 He can still win this thing. If he just gets a perfect score for the remaining seven weeks, his opponent forget to submit their picks, and the New York Jets actually decide to win a game, THEN he has an approximately 6.8% chance of victory ✊ I can smell the celebratory steaks already 🥩

VAL - 8 POINTS

Val got 8 points this week. We need to talk more often, I don't know what's going on in your life? Did you move? Join a cult? Baked a nice apple pie? Drawing a blank here 🤔🤔🤔 The last I heard about Val she was failing to win a break maker? 🎫🎫🎫

JULIETTE - 6 POINTS

Oh no honey boo boo ju ju 😞😞😞 the beginning of the season was so "Welcome to New York" but now it's giving "Bad Blood" 🎤🎤 (Writing that sentence made me feel like I'm 87 years old) Will swimming's most 🔥🔥🔥 recruit be able to turn it around and win or is that just in her "Wildest Dreams"??? ☁☁☁

Well Ladies and Gentlemen the clock is officially TICKING ⏰ Hundreds of dollars are at stake here, who has what it takes to claim the top prize??? 🤴👸 WE'LL SEE YOU ALL NEXT WEEK

[battleradio-hoenn]

[an audio file starts playing. a woman with a hoennian accent starts speaking

HELLOOOO an welcome to 99.9FM Battleradio Hoenn! My name is Melanie Shuckle and i’m in the Studio today! I’m also all alone here, because the others have left me all alone. But that’s nothing that’ll hold me back! So, i’m looking at a battlecam today, sent in by none other than Kalosian Gymleader Clemont himself! Wow, that is really cool!

Before we get into the battle itself, some background info, because that is a little bit important here! This battle is between Gym Leader Clemont, obviously, and the Challenger is a Trainer called Naos! I don’t have much info on them, to be honest, but i don’t have access to Kalosian League documents, haha. In any case, Naos is challenging Clemont as their SECOND gym, but have requested to take on a stronger team! So the team used is more in line with a 6th or 7th badge in Kalos! In particular, Clemont will be using a Luxray, a Magnezone, an Emolga and of course one of the Gym’s signature Pokémon, Heliolisk! That is not all of course, and definitely not why this battle was sent in! No, Naos is a very special trainer, not only because they request such a strong team, but because of their own Pokémon! You see, Naos’ team consists of only 3 Pokémon. One is a Seel, the second is a Girafarig, and the third… I can’t build up the tension anymore, Naos third Pokémon is a Xurkitree! Yes, you heard me right, Naos is training a Xurkitree! One of the Pokémon first classified as “Ultrabeast” by the Aether Foundation of Alola! I certainly don’t know how Naos came to train this Pokémon, but i can tell you it is certainly a rare sight! Not many trainers have the opportunity to work with these Pokémon, they are heavily monitored and are often considered dangerous, so I’m sure Naos is not your ordinary trainer! And to make this even more exciting, let me tell you that Xurkitree are banned from usual competitive Tournaments! Yes, the species was placed in the Ubers tier!

Okay, okay i have taken enough of your time already! Let’s see how that battle went!

Okay, we start off with a pretty tame lead on both sides! Girafarig on Naos side is facing Emolga on Clemonts side of the field! Now, the battle does not start with a bang! Instead, Emolga goes for a Volt Switch and Clemont immediately takes back his active Pokémon! In comes Luxray! Oh, yes Naos, that will be dangerous! A Crunch could be very bad for Girafarig. OH my, Girafarig takes a moment to set up! That is an Agility-move here! And Girafarig uses it’s gained mobility to jump around Luxray and get a good look at her opponent! That is definitely a Nasty Plot, Clemont, i hope- No, no he does NOT ATTACK! I think that was a big mistake, not going for a Crunch here? Instead he sets up an electric field!

Clemont, that was a bad decision! I could have smelled that from a mile away! Naos recalls Giraf- no, i’m sorry Girafarig uses Baton Pass! And here comes the Xurkitree, and this Xurkitree has the speed and power of Girafarig! Ah, yes here comes the Crunch from Luxray, but it looks like Xurkitree is only tickled by that. That looks really bad for Clemont, even though he’s not lost a single Pokémon yet!

WHAT IS THIS??? Naos doesn’t even see the need to attack! Xurkitree is starting to boost itself even further with a Tail Glow! And Clemont is making all the wrong decisions here, i can only assume he’s distracted by this MARVELOUS Electric Type in front of him because he recalls Luxray to send in Emolga! There is no way Emolga will be able to do anything here. Well, i doubt any of Clemonts Pokémon can do anything anymore. That Xurkitree is fast like nothing else, it has been setting up its special Attack and on top of that it’s just a really really strong Pokémon already!

Yes. Yep, that is a thunderbolt. I- I’m going to be honest, i’m not sure what EXACTLY happened just now, because the screen was simply white for a moment, but Emolga is nowhere to be seen. That Thunderbolt has some power behind it, i hope Emolga is fine!

Well, Clemont decided his next Pokémon should be Magnezone! A good decision as it turns out because it can take another Thunderbolt thanks to its Sturdy-Abiltiy! But the following Flash Cannon is not enough, no it is not! Xurkitree is still standing there, MENACINGLY! There comes Luxray again- and just a flash later, it is gone again! I don’t know what to say, this Battlecam i have here is not epilepsy-friendly. Anyways, Clemont has no choice but to send in his last Pokémon, Heliolisk! And- Yes, yes that was the fight! Heliolisk can’t take a Thunderbolt from this Xurkitree either! Naos wins, and by a landslide!

Naos, that was an impressive battle! I know Xurkitree is just a really strong Pokémon, but we saw some good strategy as well! Considering that was their second gym badge, i’m sure Naos will make it far in the Kalos league!

That was it from me for the time being! I’m Melanie Shuckle, and thank you for tuning in to 99.9 Battleradio Hoenn!

the recording ends]

// battle from @naos-necrozma. replay available on showdown

[survey--s]

642.

What is the color of the last towel you used? Like a sea green type colour.

Are you listening to music right now? If so, whatcha listening to? The Winner Takes it All by Meryl Streep.

Would you rather have a hippo or rhino dropped on you? I mean, I'd be dead either way lol.

Do you walk a lot? I mean, it's my job to walk dogs so yes, lol. I'm normally walking for 4-5 hours a day (during the week, anyway). Weekends are much lazier.

If you’re still in school, what number is your locker? What color is it? I haven't been in school for over a decade lol. My locker was dark blue, though I don't remember the number.

Do you have any super silly nicknames? Yep.

Have you ever heard of the Japanese snack Yan Yan? Nope. You can't really get many Japanese snacks here which is a shame as they all look amazing, haha.

Do you watch sports? Which ones, if any? Not really. Sometimes I watch Wimbledon but that's about it.

Do you enjoy the great outdoors? I do as long as the weather is good. I'm not one of those people who will go out in all weathers just to get outside, lol.

Do you like cream soda? No, it's too sweet and leaves a funny aftertaste.

Is there anyone who hates you? Probably.

What color is your cell phone? Blue and black. How does your hair look right now? It's just tied up in a messy bun.

Are you on any medications? No.

What is the last piece of mail you received? How about e-mail? Mail was some photos I ordered for work, and e-mail-wise, it was just a confirmation that my order of cat litter had been sent out, lol.

Who is your 15th contact in your phone? I have no idea, my phone is on the side charging.

Name something you like about school. Leaving at the end of the day.

Do you eat meat, or are you a vegetarian? I eat meat.

Have you ever cried in front of a teacher? Yes.

Have you ever cried BECAUSE of a teacher? Yes, that too.

Do you do a :) or a (:? Both ways, depending on my mood. Normally :) though.

Do you have a facebook? Do you go on it often, if you do? Yes, and daily.

What is the closest gas station to you? There's one about a quarter of a mile up the road.

Who did you last see in concert? I don't remember, honestly.

What grade are you in? I left school 16 years ago.

Granny smith or delicious red apples? The only apples I really like are Pink Ladies but even then I don't really eat them very much.

If you could meet one famous person, who would it be? How come? Neil Gaiman, just because he's awesome.

Are paper clips fun to play with? They were when I was a kid, sure.

Can you speak any other language? French and some German.

Do you prefer mechanical pencils or regular pencils? Regular ones.

Do you have a job? What’s your job? Yeah, I run my own pet care business.

Do you take advil, tylenol, or ibuprofen? Ibuprofen or paracetamol.

Why is the sky blue? Oh, I really can't be bothered to look that up lol.

Do you enjoy classic rock? If I'm in the right mood, sure.

Have you ever heard of the band Citizen Cope? If not, look them up, they’re really good. I have but I've never heard their music and I'm not going to look it up now.

Is your alarm clock set right now? No, but it will be before I go to bed.

What kind of music do you listen to the most? It depends - lately it's been country.

Are you itchy right now? No. Oh, actually, I am now you've mentioned it lol.

Do you like pine trees, or do think the sap is too annoying? I mean, they're nice enough - they do smell nice.

Mountains or beach? I'm lucky enough to have both within five minutes of my house.

What is the closest purple object to you? A jumper.

Are your walls blank or covered with pictures/posters? They're mostly blank but there are a couple of paintings up.

Have you ever tried veggie burgers? Yeah, loads of times.

Do you have anything on your wrists? Nope.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years? I don't really think that far in advance.

Do you have a mirror in the room you are in? Yeah, there's one above the dresser.

Have you ever had corn nuts? I have no idea what those are.

Do you smoke? I don’t.

[infoglitch]

Nexus: Ogre slayer. [1/1]

(hey remember that book I told you all about. Yeah it's here and here's the first page. Well technically the first three pages since this comes from the definitive edition of the book which is a way for me to fix the many spelling mistakes I had when I first wrote this plus also allows to add extra content. Because I'm fuckin stupid. anyway enjoy)

[season 1] "new beginnings"

We see a young boy standing in front of a woman. "Where are you going?" The boy asked. "I'll be visiting your uncle. I'll be back in two days. So make sure you and siblings don't bug your father when he's busy with work ok. There's enough food for you three." The woman said. She patted the boys head. "See you later Johnson" the woman said.

Ridge forest. 203X

We see a young blonde male standing in front of a grave wearing a black jacket with a red t-shirt underneath as well as wearing white jeans.

His eyes were a brilliant emerald green and he had a small smile as he knelt towards the grave.

"Hey mom it's... It's me, finally moved out after i turned 17" the male said as he looked at the bouquet of flowers in his hand some being roses and others being poppies.

He placed the bouquet down as he began to speak "it's been what....9 years?" He continued. "9 years without you. Things happened. bros become a dickhead, sis is god knows where and here I am talking.....to a god damn grave...." He spoke in slight Shakey voice.

"I'll be leaving for the big city, like you and I always dreamed" he continued. He then got up and headed to his motorbike and hopped on.

He revved up his bike and was off, he drove through an army of blackwood trees and then some bits of desert and then finally passed a sign saying 'now approaching highway City, NY'.

The male smiled as now he was approaching the one place where he could become the one thing he dreamed of.

After a few miles he started seeing more and more skyscrapers and eventually was riding over the asphalt roads, however though as he was driving his stomach started growling.

"Ugh great, of all the things I thought I didn't need to pack it had to be a lunch" he groaned but then smelled the aroma of cheese burgers, fry's, chicken, and all his other favorite foods.

He started following where the scent led him, to a blue and white building with a neon billboard saying "T'jo's bang shack" it was an odd name but he didn't care he needed to eat.

He parked his bike and enter the restaurant, when he entered the interior as his shoes touched a wooden floor, he saw iron walls as wooden tables were all about the place, god damn this place was fancy. Regardless the boy sat down at a small booth and started looking through his wallet as a waiter walked up to him.

"What may I get you mister? Uh what is your name sir" the waiter asked. "Oh it's Johnson, Johnson red!" The boy, Johnson said.

The waiter noded and took Johnsons order and went to the kitchen. As Johnson sat there he looked around at area and saw some people chatting and flirting with each other, the usual stuff ya see.

Then a boy entered who was probably 15, he looked around and then walked up to Johnson, "hey uh is this table taken?" He asked "well my seat is obviously taken but you can sit here" Johnson responded as he pointed to the other seat of the booth. The boy sat down, his hair messy and colored a nice chocolate brown, his eyes a similar chocolate brown, he wore a white jacket with gray shorts, aswell as wearing a green and mint checkered wrist band.

"So uh..... What's your name anyway?" The boy asked "it's Johnson and your name is?" Johnson responded. "Names Xander, xander oakgreen, I'm Abit of a chick magnet here." he spoke with confidence as he kicked up his feet. Johnson raised a eyebrow as he shoved Xanders feet off the table.

"Oh really?" Johnson asked, "yep, the lady's Loooooove me!" Xander continued, "then flirt with one" Johnson said clearly knowing he's about to have a laugh.

Xander just stared trying to compute, then nods and gets up and walks to a pink haired woman. "hello beautiful~" he said to the woman who appeared in her 20s, she then seemingly groaned and turned "I'm lesbian freak" she said and she sprayed him with pepper spray, Xander started walking around backwards rubbing his eyes and Johnson just laughed.

"God damnit" xander said after that frowning, "well atleast she wasn't straight " Johnson said still chuckling, Xander just glared "I got sprayed in the eyes!" He said while he pointed his eyes which had tear stains below.

"Well regardless your a riot man. Friends?" Johnson said sticking out his hand Xander looked at and shook it. After that Johnson and xander got their orders and they started to chow down.

"So." Xander said while eating, Johnson raised his head and tilted it in confusion "what?" Johnson asked. "Considering how I've never seen your face before now I'm pretty sure you're new." Xander said.

Johnson noded "so?" He asked, "so what lead ya to come into the big city." Xander proposed the question

"Well it's uh...it's complecated" Johnson replied and Xander simply nodded and started sucking on his sodas straw as Johnson went back to eat his chicken sandwiches.

This was rather peaceful. If only she was here with him.

Then there was a loud ROAR as Xanders eyes widen before he shoots up as him and Johnson turn their heads to look out the window.

Through the window there was a giant boar looking beast but it's front hooves turned into hands similar to that of a primate and it's tusk were coated in this pink crystal , same for the end of it's tail which it held in its hand as if it was a mace.

"What the-" Johnson said before a woman shrieked "OGRE BEAST ATTACK" and everyone else except Xander and Johnson booked it out of the restaurant

"This shit again? Ugh I need a break from this job..." Xander groaned as he walk out the restaurant and Johnson was just confused as he immediately followed Xander. "Ok one what the fuck is going on?! two the fuck is that?!" Johnson asked Xander who started unsheathing a sword with a sabers guard but a katana's blade and it had black shine on the edge of the cutting side of the sword, the sheath however was green with a mint green thread teather.

"One I'm an ogre slayer and two that's a ogre Beast, once a animal turned into something like a ogre also I hunt ogre beasts if the name wasn't obvious" Xander explained completely calm.

"Now sit back, relax, and watch me give the ass kicking of a lifetime" he continued confidently as he walked towards the beast as it glared at him with its glowing pink eyes. Xander chuckled as he pointed at the beast with his sword. He seemed to map out a route that began at the beasts hand and then went to tail for some reason and finally stopped at the head.

Xander then smirks as he sheathed his sword. The beast the raised it's claw and slashed down using gravity as a booster, Xander then side stepped backwards and then leaped back as he avoided the beasts hand and he felt the air of the impact enter his lungs as his smirk turned into a wild grin.

"fang 1, navigation" xander said as he land on the hand and started Bolting up the beast arm as if the air he breathed in pushed all his strength into his legs.

The beast slammed it's other hand on its back trying to squash Xander, Xander then ran to its tail and then sprung off the tail and right on to the beasts head.

He took out his sword in the reverse grip and stabbed it into the beast head. As it roared in its fury it's face started to bloat and started to puke out blood, it spilled out of its mouth as it drown on the blood in its lungs.

Johnson just stood there amazed. He couldn't believe what he saw but it was fucking AWESOME.

Xander then removed the sword from the beasts head and stepped down. "Now then I probably have a lot of explaining to do" he said as Johnson nod profusely before Xander sighed, smiling Abit.

[kiridarling]

𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓.

— 3.0k words

eijirou kirishima | hard dom + dubcon jic + f!reader + exhibitonism + face-fucking + dumbification + car sex + more! minors dni.

"Made me come all this way...it’d be a pity if I didn't get somethin' out of it."

"No, no, no, no, no—c'mon," you cry as your car engine spits and sputters to a stop in the road, coughing like an old man with asthma before it's dead for good. Jamming your heel on the gas pedal, you twist your key in the ignition, but there's no use. You're fucking stuck.

You sigh, before slamming your forehead against the steering wheel. It's hard enough to sting, and the blaring horn startles all unsuspecting birds in a five-mile radius, but you could care less. Stuck in the middle of the woods at one in the morning, AAA membership-less with nothing but the clothes on your back and the vehicle you came with. Short cuts are a fucking myth.

Mina's the only person you can think of calling—because frankly, she's the only one who'd know a mechanic who could help at this time of night if one exists. Which you doubt. Severely.

"[Y/N]?" Mina answers, semi-urgently. You wonder if you startled her out of a good sleep, but knowing the night owl, her evening is just beginning. "What's up?"

"I'm fucking stuck in the middle of nowhere," you groan, banging your head against the back of the seat though you know she can't see you. "Car's not working."

"Oh no," she coos, and her pity is useless. "Do you have AAA?"

"No. Do you have a mechanic?"

"A mechanic...at one am? I don—wait," she interrupts before you hear something akin to rustling sheets. "I might have a friend who could help! But don't get your hopes up girlie, he's a heavy sleeper."

You shrug, shaking your head. "At this point, I'm desperate."

"Alrighty!" Mina confirms, and now all you can do is fucking hope her friend pulls through. "I'll give him a quick buzz and then send his number over, sound good?"

"Sounds perfect," you breathe, relaxing (somewhat) with your chin against the steering wheel. "Thanks, girl."

"Of course!" she cheers, and you wonder how someone could have so much energy at this time of night. "Good luck!"

"Thanks," you snort. "I might need it."

Riiiing! Riiiing!

Eijirou's had a long day.

A pipe busted at the auto shop today, resulting in an immediate flood—meaning they had to get everything that could possibly rust out as quickly as possible, aka everything in the goddamn shop.

So, yeah. He's had a long day, and when he's finally able to get under the covers and go the fuck to sleep, Mina calls him with this.

"Hey...Eijirou, buddy, best friend—"

"Mina, I love you, but what do you want?" Eijirou grunts into the phone, voice worn and ragged from limited sleep and his terribly long day. One am is never an appropriate time to call anybody, but he figures something has to be up—Mina's not the type to call in the middle of the night.

"Um, well. My homegirl’s kinda stuck in the woods with car troubles—"

"The woods."

It takes Mina a second but she hums in confirmation, and Eijirou can see her head nodding from where he lays. He sighs, rolling on his back to blink up at the ceiling. "Yep!"

"What is she doing in the woods at midnight?"

"I don't know!" Mina exclaims. Eijirou runs a hand over his face. "I just—please, Ei? She doesn't have AAA or anything and it's really, really late. All you have to do is hotwire her car or something, right? It's not like she totaled it or anything."

And dammit. Eijirou hates being a nice person.

"Just give me ten."

Mina practically gasps out a thank you, "You're a lifesaver Ei! Really! I—"

She's interrupted by the buzz of his phone—this time, from an unknown number. Eijirou raises an eyebrow, "That her?"

"Should be!" The pinkette says. Eijirou's feet finally touch the floor and it's painfully cold. His bed has never looked more appealing, and that's counting all those instances in high school. "Thanks again, Ei!"

"Yep," Eijirou says, popping the 'p,' before clearing his voice and switching the line. Customer Service at one am, here he comes.

"Red Riot Auto Repair and Services, how may I help you?"

All he receives is a grunt on the other end of the phone: "My car won't turn on."

Eijirou waits for you to give him a little more to work with, but it's clear that's all you have to say when you ask hello to ensure he's still on the other end of the line. Runs his hands through his hair, he silently prays he won't have to leave the house to get your car to work.

"Did you try jiggling the key?"

"Yes, I'm not stupid," you huff, and Eijirou's eyebrows fold in exasperation. He insists you do it again though, and hears the weak splutter of your engine through the phone with a heavy heart. "'S fucking useless."

"Did you try tapping the battery terminals?"

"The battery whatsitals?" You say, too loud and smart-mouthed for the very thin amount of patience Eijirou harbors. He reaches for his hair tie, satisfied enough with the messy bun he makes on the first try.

"Just send me your location," Eijirou sighs, moving for a jacket before snatching the keys to the shed. He'd rather just get this over with than beat around the bush.

Luckily, you're not far. 

"You drive that thing?" is your first comment, and Eijirou can't even appreciate your beauty before your first words shatter your image completely, and he's slamming the door to his truck with rolling eyes, rusted toolbox heavy in his hand. "It looks like Mater from Lightning McQueen."

Eijirou just stares at you for a second, just to see if you're really serious, and resists the urge to scoff when it seems like you are.

"It's a truck," is all he says, before marching around you and to the task at hand—your car. "Pop the hood."

You huff, but you listen, and Eijirou wastes no time in getting to work. You watch with your elbows balanced on the rim, curious but quiet, and that allows him to get in the zone enough to realize there are countless problems with your car.

"When was the last time you took this thing into the shop?" He probes. You click your tongue, eyes tracing the outlines of the trees as you search for an answer. That's never a good sign.

"Um...never?"

"And how long have you had it?"

"A few years," you nod, and Eijirou drops his head.

"It's a miracle you made it this far in the first place," he chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. What the hell is he going to do now? There's no way your car is moving anywhere tonight. You frown, jamming your hands on your hips.

"Well? Are you going to fix it or what?"

"I can fix it," Eijirou says with a shrug, closing your hood. "But not tonight."

"What do you mean not tonight?" You badger, breathing down his neck as he hikes back to his truck to set the toolbox down. There's no reason to carry it if he's not going to need it.

"I mean, your car's going to need a solid six months before it can run again, Sweetheart."

When Eijirou turns, you're much too in his face for his liking. He can practically feel your breath against his chest, and it has him rolling his eyes, leaning against his truck with arms crossed.

"Yeah, okay, but I need it to run tonight," you explain, gesticulating so wildly Eijirou fears his own chest may fall in the cross-fire. "Like, I need to get home tonight."

"I can't—" the redhead sighs, running his hand over his face. You're terribly difficult, and if Mina had given him a proper warning he probably wouldn't be here in the fucking first place. "Listen. My shop is out of commission for the next few days 'cause of a flood. I can work on your car or whatever, but it'll take a sec, so the most I can do is drop you at a hotel down the road or somethin'. Sound like a plan?"

"No," you growl, claws and all, and Eijirou wishes for nothing but death. "That doesn't sound like a plan! I don't know you, what makes you think I'll get in a car with you?"

Oh. My. God.

"Then you can spend the night in your car and have Mina come get you in the morning," he huffs, stomping over to the driver's side of his truck. "So it's either you're gettin' in, or I'm leaving ya."

With that, he slams the car door shut, shoves his key in the ignition, and counts to fucking ten, and on nine and a half you're flinging open the passenger door and bouncing in the seat, arms crossed over your chest in indignance. You don't even look him in the eye.

"Seatbelt," he warns. You tut.

"I don't need a fucki—"

"Put on the goddamn seatbelt."

You don't say anything, but he's satisfied by the click that follows. Eijirou shifts into drive and you two take off.

"The seat's so uncomfortable."

Not even twenty feet.

"Suck it up," is all the pity Eijirou has to offer. He's preoccupied with trying to get from this side road to a main road with, you know, actual civilization. The road is unsteady—unsteady enough that a bump sends the both of you flying towards the roof of his car, and naturally, you have something to say about it.

"Y'know, for a mechanic, you're not a very good driver," you say, and it has Eijirou's fists tightening around his steering wheel. His patience wears down until it has the height of a penny, and Eijirou worries for when it shatters because he has no clue what he'll do if it does.

"And it smells a little funky," you continue anyway, eyes wandering around the cabin aimlessly."Kinda like cheese. No offense."

Eijirou pulls over at that, teeth grinding. Is he really going to snap over cheese comment?

“Is this a condom?”

Yes. Yes, the fuck he is.

"Get out."

"Um—excuse me?" You blink, eyebrows raising in offense. "You're kicking me out. Because I found a fucking rubber?”

Eijirou glares your way and he's sure you can feel him radiating fury, and that's enough to convince you to hop out of the car without another word. He follows, slamming the door behind him.

"Okay? Now what?" You growl, and Eijirou loves it—the false display of confidence. Because he knows it won't take much to break you once he gets you under his thumb, and you'll look so pretty once he does. Cocking his head to his side, he tells you to come here without having to open his mouth. You follow.

"Now, on your knees."

You splutter at his request, rolling your eyes as if he wasn't being serious. Though you shut up once you hear the clink of his belt, lips widening in revelation, and Eijirou thinks you'd look much prettier with your mouth full.

"You made me come all this way—it'd be a pity if I didn't get somethin' out of it," Eijirou says, and the way you shiver implies that you like this more than you let on. He coos when you say nothing, "And for the first time today she's got nothin' to say. See? You're improving already."

He gives you a second to move. When you don't, he lifts an eyebrow. "Knees, Princess."

You do and Eijirou groans at the view, palming his hardening cock at the sight of your bambi eyes blinking up at him—and it's a pretty one, at that. Leaning against the door of his truck, he grunts, "Take it out."

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his boxers and Eijirou shivers upon contact with the cool air, but the warmth of your palm makes up for it. You spit on his cock with a curled lip and it's nothing short of crude, before you're swirling your tongue around the head and taking him as far as you can possibly go.

"Uh-uh," Eijirou tuts, grabbing you by the hair to pull your mouth off his cock. "We got at my pace, Sweetheart."

"Why?" You pout with a curled lip. Eijirou scowls.

"Because," he says, before stuffing half of his cock down your throat, "I'm gonna put that big fuckin' mouth to use at my pace."

With that, Eijirou thrusts into your mouth, using the grip he has around your hair as leverage. Your throat is impossibly warm and the way you choke has him keening, and that's enough for his hips to start picking up mindlessly.

"Shit—what a dirty fuckin' girl," he says, smirking when you moan around his cock. "You like this? You like sucking off a guy you just met?"

Your eyes flutter at that, nails digging into his thighs, and it nearly has him cooing. When you swallow around him Eijirou's hips stutter and he grunts, "In public, no less. Anyone could drive by and see you taking my dick down your throat...but you'd like that, wouldn't you? You want the world to know how much of a slut you are."

Your hand falls between your thighs and Eijirou grins like the devil as he watches you touch yourself on the dirty road, desperate just because knows how to push the right buttons. That's enough to have him caving, demanding you rise to your feet and get in the backseat of his car.

"Hands and knees," Eijirou urges, his body towering over yours from behind. It's not long before he's pinning your wrists to the windshield with one hand and using the other to land a harsh slap on your ass; harsh enough to make you jolt forwards from the force.

"Such a pretty ass," he coos before slapping it again, and your teeth dig into your bottom lip to muffle the sound. "And it's all for me, ain't it, Princess?"

You nod, but Eijirou spanks you again—he's looking for an answer.

"Y-Yeah, yes, all yours just—" your hips wiggle in search of his cock. Eijirou chuckles, leveling his lips with your ear.

"Want me to fill you up, Princess?"

You gasp out a yes, nodding vehemently. The redhead finds he likes you like this much better, chest rumbling with arousal. "Yeah? How bad?"

"B-Bad, please, I need t—fuck!"

Eijirou stuffs you full with one thrust, and even he needs a moment, freehand searching to hold onto your hip while his grip tightens around your wrists. You quiver under him, and he swears he can feel your gut contract around his cock, eyelids fluttering when you grind against him.

"Holy shit," Eijirou finds himself wheezing, not expecting you to be so tight. You drop your head against the cool windshield, whimpering like the pretty little thing you are, shuddering as he pulls out before ramming himself in again until he's balls deep. You scream, back arching from the angle.

And fuck. It's impossible for him to stop after that.

"Fuckin' look at you," Eijirou chuckles, body practically caging you against the seat, "Drooling all over my window like a slut. Fuck, you really know how to get a guy goin' huh?"

“Pull—pull my hair,” you request, words from his pistoning hips. Eijirou tuts and rips your hands off the window in favor of pushing your head into the seat, not making a move to yank on your hair once.

“I don’t think you’re in the right place to be making demands, Princess," he growls before his hot palm cracks against your ass, hissing from the way you tighten around him when he does.

You whine at that, pushing into him the best you can. It only spurs his hips on faster, and Eijirou lets go of your hands in favor of grabbing your face instead, groaning at the sight of the tears shining silver from the moonlight. He likes the fact that you can't do much but gasp and rock against him, your hands falling to clit to finally push yourself off the edge.

He looks at you and all he sees is his dumb little thing, who can't do anything, let alone get her car to work, and that's when Eijirou realizes he doesn't want this to be as much of a one-time thing as he initially thought.

"Gonna...gonna cum," you slur, cheek mashed flat against his window. Eijirou fucks you into the door of his truck, pace quick and bruising, as his mind thinks of all the fun you two could have together—all the fun he wants to have with you.

"Cum, Sweetheart. Make a mess of my cock and my leather seats, yeah? Show me how good I make you feel."

You tighten around his cock, tight, and that's enough to send him spiraling into an orgasm of his own, hips stuttering to a stop as he fills you up. Though his hips never stop, not until you're coming around his cock with a broken moan, curled toes digging into his car floor. He watches you catch your breath, splayed across the seat, with a sudden realization that he feels much lighter, but doubts it was the sex that did the trick.

"You fucked your anger out now?" You wheeze, breaking the silence, and Eijirou snorts.

"I—yes," he says before his eyes trail to the scratch marks around your hips and thighs. "Are you...okay?"

"Never been better," you toss your arms in the air like you're on a rollercoaster but lack the energy to scream. It's cute and it had the redhead re-evaluating everything, wondering how the day could start so shitty and yet, end so well. "Are you okay?"

His eyebrows furrow, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," you shrug, and Eijirou finds it hard to stay focused when you look like that. "You asked me, so. Everyone needs a post-sex check-in, ya know?"

Fuck.

Fuck, yeah he's definitely keeping you.

[pillage-and-lute]

Prompt: Either out of embarrassment or being a little shit, Jaskier lies outrageously to Geralt about humans (on the level of “I’m molting” or “These? They’re rocks, to snack on.”) and might get away with it?

Hi Dahliavandare! I always love seeing you in my inbox. I changed this just a *teeny* bit. WARNING: VERY SLIGHTLY HORNY (it’s Jaskier, duh) There is also a little bit of angst because Jaskier gets sick.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled.

“What?” The young bard yelped. “I wasn’t even singing that time.”

“No, you just--hmmm.”

“I just hmmm what?” Jaskier asked, pausing in his near-constant strumming.

“You smell like...hmm.”

“I smell?” Jaskier said, both hands planted on his hips. “That’s pretty rich coming from you, my friend--”

“Not friends.”

“You smell like a barn. Anyway-”

“No, Jaskier,” Geralt said, running one, gloved hand through his hair. “Witchers can sort of smell emotions, right?”

Jaskier looked up at him, a sudden hint of anxiety in his scent. “I thought that was a myth.”

“Not entirely.” Geralt shook his head as if clearing a thought from it. “We can’t smell complex things, but joy, fear, anger...desire.”

Jaskier, for once, didn’t look at Geralt, studying instead the flowers at the side of the road. “Desire?”

“I-yes.” Geralt said. “And I wanted to know if all humans smell like...”

“Desire?” Jaskier said, then began talking fast. “Oh yes, of course, most humans, especially my age, well, they smell like this all the time. All the time. Naturally.”

It sort of checked out, at least to Geralt’s thinking. Young humans were horny, and although the overriding scent when Geralt was around was fear, he remembered being a teenager, with all the baggage that entailed at Kaer Morhen, and yes, constantly horny was among those memories. Jaskier himself was definitely still young by human standards, perhaps twenty or so from his youthful features. 

Geralt chalked the horniness up to humanity and hormones and left it at that. 

--- 

Later on, Geralt had other questions related to humanity, more specifically that part of humanity that included Jaskier. 

“I thought humans couldn’t eat those?” Geralt couldn’t, he’d eaten one during training on a dare and spent the next day with his head in the privy.

Jaskier looked down at the mushroom in his hand. It was a beautiful, bright red, with little white spots. He’d been snacking on similar ones for the last mile or so. 

“Of course we can,” he said. “Humans eat these all the time.” There was a rising tone in his voice that indicated something, but as Geralt had mentioned before, witchers couldn’t actually smell the more complicated emotions. 

“They, um,” Jaskier said. “They just can’t be eaten by humans during-er- during summer. It’s fall now, so it’s okay.”

Geralt shrugged. What did he know of human biology? He wouldn’t be eating another of them ever, at any time. His stomach lurched a little just at the thought.

---

“You didn’t buy the ring.”

Jaskier looked up at Geralt, eyes bright in the sunshine. The bustle of the market around them pushed against him like a tide, but a little patch of space was left around Geralt. Jaskier stepped into the space. “The ring?”

“You liked it,” Geralt grunted. “I could tell.” It had been a little thing, cheaply made of poor materials, but the bard’s eyes had lit up upon seeing the little buttercup detailing, and he’d admired for several minutes, although without touching. 

Jaskier shrugged. “It was made of iron.”

“And?”

“Human’s can’t wear iron, Geralt.”

“Then why did the man sell it?” 

“Well some humans can wear it of course, those with very tough skin, but I’m delicate.” Jaskier sniffed. 

“Humans...can’t wear iron?” It didn’t sound right.

“Not right up close to their skin,” Jaskier said. “It turns us, um, purple.”

Geralt shrugged it off. He’d once been called to a castle where a baron had believed himself cursed because his finger was turning green, but he’d simply been wearing a cheap brass ring.

---

After the first winter they met again in the spring something was definitely different.

“Your freckles,” Geralt said.

“What about them?” Jaskier said, looking away.

What about them indeed. They glimmered like chips of mica. At first Geralt had thought it a trick of the light, but no, there was a definite glitter to Jaskier’s skin.

“They’re...shining?”

Jaskier cocked his head at Geralt, cheeks shimmering. “Geralt,” he said slowly. “You know humans shimmer in the spring...right?” 

Shimmer?

“I’d never noticed,” Geralt said. Admittedly he paid a little more attention to Jaskier than perhaps he ought, but still, one would think he’d have seen this before.

“It’s part of the growing process,” Jaskier said. 

---

“Jaskier, your cheeks are red,” Geralt said, stepping out of the small bathtub the inkeeper had brought up. He stepped closer to the bard, still naked and dripping water, and pressed the back of his hand to Jaskier’s forehead.

“Nnhgh,” Jaskier said.

“Are you well?” Geralt asked, cupping Jaskier’s flushed face with his other hand. It didn’t feel like he had a fever.

Jaskier pushed his hands away, face even redder than before.

“I’m perfectly fine, Geralt,” he said, higher pitched than usual. “Human faces get red for no reason now...put on some pants.”

---

“Jaskier you’re drunk,” Geralt said. It was a pretty obvious statement, considering he had his bard draped over him like a shawl.

“Hehe, yep,” Jaskier said, reaching up with one, long finger and tracing Geralt’s jawline with it. 

“You didn’t have any alcohol, I’m sure of it.” Jaskier normally had an extremely high alcohol tolerance in any case.

“‘O course not,” Jaskier said, leaning even more fully into Geralt’s hold. “Had milk.”

“Milk can’t get people drunk.”

“Milk can’t get witchers drunk,” Jaskier slurred. “Get’s humans drunk though, dunnit?”

“Can it?”

“Yeah, definitely, not the kids, but like, how often do you see, like adult humans drinkin’ milk?”

Not often, Geralt thought. He put Jaskier to bed in the inn and it was like pouring an octopus into a bucket. One loose yet gripping arm pulled Geralt closer to Jaskier, the bard leaned in and brushed soft lips to Geralt’s cheekbone.

Geralt wondered if it was another mystery of humans that the spot seemed to tingle all night and he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it.

---

Geralt clutched Jaskier as the bard fell to his knees, groaning. His face was sickly in it’s palor and he was trembling. He’d just lurched up from the table at the inn and stumbled to the door. Geralt had followed him and the young bard had just collapsed like this.

“Jaskier,” he said, clutching a chilled cheek, his other hand seeking one of Jaskier’s. “Jaskier what’s wrong.”

“Lemon,” Jaskier whispered, lacing shaking finger’s with Geralt’s. “In the fish, there was lemon.”

“Lemon’s fine, isn’t it?” Geralt asked, slow heart racing as he looked into eyes that were becoming glassy and clouded.

Jaskier shook his head and it seemed to exhaust him.

“’S fine for humans.” He said. “Not fae.”

“Fae,” Geralt said, cradling his friend. “Jaskier you’re not making sense.” 

“Mmh,” Jaskier said, smiling sadly. His face changed, his eyes going glow bright and his ears lengthening a little. His skin took on a slightly green tint. 

Geralt looked into the face of his fae bard, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone and the shimmering freckles there. “How do I heal you, you have to tell me.”

Jaskier blinked slowly, eyes dimming further.

Geralt shook him, desperation taking over.

“Jaskier what heals a fairy?”

What heals a fairy? He’d learned that at some point hadn’t he? Long ago. They were rare, and most witchers never saw one in their whole lives but if you could help one they’d grant you one wish, not tricks. 

Poetry. 

Fuck.

“Jaskier,” Geralt rasped, throat feeling dry. Those beautiful eyes blinked at him, slowly. 

“I...I think you have pretty eyes,” Geralt said. “And I like when they, um, match the skies.”

Jaskier blinked at him in confusion, brow wrinkling slightly.

“You look pretty in blue,” Geralt managed, inventing wildly. “And look pretty in green. You look lovely in about every shade in between.”

Some of the deathly palor was fading from Jaskier’s face now and Geralt sought more words. “I thought you were pretty that day you wore purple,” he said. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, idiot he was an idiot, nothing rhymes with purple. 

“I like your spirit, your moxy, your...your yurple.”

Jaskier was indeed looking better now, and he was smiling.

“I like the way you talk to me, and how you’re always there,” Geralt whispered. “I like the way you hum to me when you help me brush my hair.”

Jaskier sat up slowly, blinking in the dim light.

“I like the way you give treats to Roach, um, and I like the way you smile,” Geralt gulped at the look on Jaskier’s face. “But most of all I like how much I love you, so I want you to promise to, uh, stay? For a while?”

“Oh Geralt,” Jaskier said, cupping his cheek. “That was bad.” Then he kissed him and Geralt’s brain went very very fuzzy.

A little later, in their room in the inn, where Geralt was finishing the fish and Jaskier was having stew avec no-lemon-at-all, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jaskier tilted his head thoughtfully as he chewed a piece of potato. “Well, at first I wasn’t sure how you’d take it,” he said. 

Geralt nodded. Fae were a feared and reverred group amongst humans, so caution was reasonable.

“Then it became a sort of game,” Jaskier said shrugging. “I couldn’t resist. So I left you little hints. I thought you’d figure it out for sure with the freckles or the milk.”

Geralt huffed a little sheepishly.

“I don’t care that you’re fae,” he said after a moment.

“I know,” Jaskier said. “And I don’t care that you’re an awful poet.”

“It worked, didn’t it.”

“It did, and now you get a wish, no tricks,” Jaskier held up his hand as if taking an oath. “I promise.”

Geralt thought for a moment. A wish from a fae was no small thing. It should be something powerful, something earth shattering and precious and rare.

“I wish you would kiss me again.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oop, here it is (after quite the wait, sorry about that) I’m actually so proud of this and it’s super sweet and fluffy.

[fruitcoops]

Ok so what sbout remus/sirius being too sick to go to an away game so the other one has to go alone, and then tons of facetime conversations and "get well soon" videos from the team?

This is related to this fic about Remus and Finn bonding over terrible reporters--hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, and the Loops/ Talker bonding is for @lee-1012!

TW for illness

“You don’t look so good.” Remus frowned as he held the inside of his wrist against Sirius’ forehead. “And you definitely have a fever.”

“Non.” Sirius sat up on his elbows with a groan, then almost immediately flopped back down.

“Yes.” He leaned back on his heels and checked the clock—they had two hours before they had to be at the airport. “Baby, I don’t think you should—”

“ ‘m going.”

“It’s not a good—”

“Gotta go. Games.” Sirius cracked one glassy eye open. “Two weeks away. I’ll take the first couple days off.”

Remus sighed through his nose and brushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “You shouldn’t go on the plane if you’re sick. Not just for your sake, but for the rest of us. We don’t need everyone to come down with this.”

He received a halfhearted glare in response, but Sirius finally huffed and curled on his side to nuzzle against his thigh. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, baby,” Remus said quietly, bending to kiss his temple. They hadn’t been apart for that long since before he was a player, nearly a year prior. Hell, he had never played a game without Sirius, let alone two weeks’ worth. “Lily will check on you, okay?”

Sirius mumbled an incoherent response and cuddled closer when he began combing his fingers through his hair. The second alarm beeped, loud against the quiet of their bedroom; time to go, he thought ruefully. Sirius touched his knee as he started to stand. “Love you. Be safe.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most.”

“Go back to sleep,” Remus said as his heart clenched. “I’ll let Coach know what happened, but you’ve got to rest and take care of yourself. Hydrate or die-drate, yeah?”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“Sleep,” he repeated, kissing his forehead once more before hauling himself out of bed and tucking the covers around Sirius’ shoulders. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

------------------------

The clouds were a soft, pastel pink around them as the sun rose—Sirius’ favorite. If his phone was correct, Lily would be there soon to let Hattie out and make sure Sirius wasn’t pushing himself too hard. The thought brought Remus a bit of relief, but not enough to quell his concern.

Talker poked his forearm, snapping him from his reverie. “What’s going on?”

“Just worrying.”

“About Cap?”

Remus waved a hand vaguely. “And Hattie, and Lily, and whether he’s got a cold or something worse. Feels weird being here without him.”

Talker hummed his agreement and offered one of his earbuds. “Want to listen to half of Bohemian Rhapsody with me? It’ll give you five minutes and 55 seconds of relative peace.”

“It’s too quiet,” James groaned just before he pressed ‘play’.

Across the aisle, Remus saw Kasey roll his eyes. “Your husband is sick, dude, not dead. He doesn’t talk to you on planes anyway.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Bliz.”

“Oh my god,” Kasey muttered under his breath, securing his headphones tightly over his ears.

James let his head flop to the side with a baleful look. “Loops, you’re on my side, right?”

“I’ve got you, buddy,” he assured him. Talker stifled a laugh, and the opening chords began as more clouds rolled past. Remus let himself drift with them, taking deep breaths to soothe his worries; Sirius would be fine. He had the sniffles, or at worst the flu, and he would be join them for the second week in top form. There was nothing to worry about.

---------------------------------

“He’s got pneumonia,” Lily sighed.

“He what?”

“A mild case, but the doctor said it would take a week of antibiotics and rest before he’s close to a hundred percent. No hockey for about a month, too.”

Remus stared at the wall of his empty hotel room, lost for words. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

“Pretty m—absolutely not, go lay down.” There was a rustling noise and two grumbling voices. “Sorry about that.”

“Will you put me on speaker real quick?” Remus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose until he heard a faint click. “Sirius? You there?”

“Yes! I miss you, and I was just going to tell you that it’s really not that—”

“Please sit your ass down. Lily, if he tries to fuck around and find out exactly how nasty pneumonia is, you have full permission to sit on him. I miss you too, love,” he added after a short pause.

“He’s blowing you a kiss,” Lily informed him. “Oh, and he’s giving me the puppy eyes.”

“Resist if you can. Love you both. Give Hattie lots of cuddles from me.”

“We will,” she promised.

The second the call ended, Remus groaned aloud and thumped his head against the wall before padding down the hall. Just my fucking luck. The door swung open after the second knock; Arthur’s face fell. “How bad is it?”

“Mild pneumonia.”

“Fuck.”

“Yep. Doctor said he’d be out for a month.”

Arthur rubbed his eyes and nodded, motioning Remus back towards his own room. “Get some rest, then. I’ll let everyone know in the morning. Any idea how he got it?”

“Not a clue.”

“Thanks for the update, Loops. Sleep tight.”

“I will,” Remus lied as he headed back for a sleepless night between cold sheets.

----------------------------

Lily sent updates every few hours; most reported that Sirius was sleeping well and looking better with each passing day, but Remus couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly guilty. If something happened while he was hundreds of miles away, he would never forgive himself. He had sworn in front of their closest friends and family to be there in sickness and in health—what kind of husband ditches their partner for one of a million roadies?

This one. He stabbed a piece of broccoli and shoved it in his mouth. And then he goes and makes an idiot of himself for the world to see.

The interview was supposed to be easy, but he couldn’t let it roll off anymore. Not when he couldn’t answer their questions even when he wanted to, not when he was states away from the love of his life while he was sick, not when he felt helpless and shoved aside in every current aspect of his life.

“So.” The chair next to him creaked as Talker planted his full weight in it and set his plate decisively on the table.

“What.”

“Oh, pissy Loops. Haven’t seen you in a while. Talked to Cap yet?”

“Yeah.” Another piece of broccoli fell victim to his frustration.

“How’s he sound?”

“Better.”

“Sweet.” Talker continued to munch away on his dinner. “Anyone ever told you that you have the general disposition of a wet cat when you’re upset?”

Remus tried and failed to keep down a smile. “I seem to recall you bringing it up on occasion, yes.”

His dark eyes softened and he bumped their elbows together. “He’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

“Really, Loops. Cap’s going to be just fine. Lily doesn’t sugar-coat this kind of stuff, and he’s a tough guy. Mild pneumonia doesn’t stand a chance. Besides, we’ve only got four days left and we need you to kick some ass out there.”

If Remus was a little more emotionally vulnerable, he would’ve burst into tears. Instead, he settled for leaning his temple against Talker’s with a quiet ‘thanks’ and allowed himself to be pulled into a side hug. Across the dining hall, Finn shot him a thumbs-up and a wink. “Love you, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Talker teased. “The internet is already coming to your aid, you know.”

“About…?”

“Not only have those asshole reporters become a new meme, you’ve also got a shit ton of people bringing up past mistreatment of athletes in the press room. You’re the face of a revolution, Loops.”

“I’ve been the face of too many revolutions for one person,” he groused, not even bothering to duck out of the way when Talker ruffled his hair.

“Well, one more won’t kill you.”

---------------------------------------

Remus’ heart raced as he stepped off the plane. The logical part of him knew that Sirius would be waiting outside the security gate, but everything else screamed to see him now, now, right now so he could be sure he was alright. At least he had sounded healthier on the phone the night before—Remus wasn’t sure what he would do otherwise.

“Deep breaths,” James reminded him as they walked toward the baggage claim. “I’m sure he’s—”

An excited shout broke through the thick crowds. Remus’ heart skipped a beat, and then he was running, racing through the people that parted for him as his vision tunneled. His carry-on hit the ground with a low thud that he hardly heard as Sirius lifted him straight off the ground and held him tight.

“I love you,” Remus said immediately, locking his ankles around Sirius’ lower back and squeezing his eyes shut. “Are you okay?”

In lieu of a response, Sirius pulled back and kissed him, cradling one side of his face in his warm, warm hand. Two weeks may as well have been an eternity. He broke away after a moment, searching his face for any signs of illness or pain. “I’m fine,” Sirius said softly, as if he could read his mind. “I promise. A little tired and sore, but there’s no lasting damage.”

“Don’t do that again,” Remus said into the side of his neck as he hugged him close. He smelled like home. “Not when I have to leave.”

Sirius’ arms were steady around his back. “I won’t.”

“I’m going to grill you on everything as soon as we get home.”

“I know.”

“But right now, I’m just going to hug you because I missed you and I worried myself into a hole, like, every night.”

He could feel Sirius’ smile against his shoulder. “I know.”

[butwhyduh]

The Farm

Damian Wayne x Jon Kent

Summary: just 2 boys in love but won’t admit it. I have the attention span of a butterfly so this is as close as I get to a slow burn lmao. I just think they are adorable and I headcanon Damian as demisexual. I did actually age them above 18 but this is sfw. Only a little kissing. There’s a bigot but he gets punched.

“I heard about the farm,” Damian said as they sat on a rooftop in New York. “Sorry.” They were drinking milkshakes after saving the city. Well Jon was as Damian had a vegan smoothie instead.

“Yeah, they foreclosed,” Jon said, his bright blue eyes uncharacteristically stony. “Thanks. Just wasn’t expecting it is all.”

“You know I could help you.. financially. If you need,” Damian offered carefully. Jon shifted in his seat and took a drink of his shake.

“It’s not your job. I’ll figure out how to keep it. Don’t worry,” Jon said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Congrats on vet school. Not that it’s a surprise. You were top of your class.”

“Oh thanks. But seriously, I have no problem writing a check right now, Jon,” Damian emphasized. Jon stared at him silently. It was so tempting to let Damian solve his problems but that wasn’t the Kent way.

“I don’t know,” Jon said shifting uncomfortably. Damian noted that it wasn’t a no.

“I will be going to school in Metropolis in the fall. The farm in Smallville is a lot closer to the university than my place in Gotham,” Damian said hoping to come off as casual. Apparently not as Jon almost fell off the roof in shock.

“Live- with me,” he asked, his eyebrows rose quickly.

“Oh, I suppose. Yes, that is what I would be proposing,” Damian answered. Jon looked at him with wide eyes before clearing his throat and softening the look on his face to more neutral. Damian definitely wasn’t meaning ‘moving in’ moving in. He was just being practical. He wasn’t in love with Jon the same way Jon was head over heels for Damian since he was like 13.

“It would be practical for us both,” he said and Jon relaxed. Yep, normal Damian not thinking of the social meaning of his words.

“I don’t have a butler,” Jon warned. “And I sometimes forget to do laundry or dishes.”

“Then I will make a chore chart,” Damian answered and Jon’s heart soared a little at the domestics of it all. Jon nodded with a grin.

“So when do I get my roommate?” Jon asked lightly. Or what he hoped was lightly. His farm was saved and Damian was moving in. He was surprised he wasn’t levitating yet.

“I need to sell my apartment first. And pack,” Damian contemplated. “Also I need to buy the farm. I’ll need 4 days.”

“4?!? I mean- that’s fine,” Jon answered. He began immediately imagining all the work he needed to do before Damian could move in. “You work fast.”

“Yes, money talks,” Damian answered as if it was normal for a 20 year old to say. Jon nodded and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

True to his words, a moving truck showed up 4 days later. Jon had cleaned and organized everything, even scrubbing the walls and sweeping the barn. The workers quickly set up everything in the spare room just as Damian arrived.

Damian arriving was a sight Jon would never forget. Damian wore a black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up and a tan pair of dress pants over shiny black leather shoes as he carried in a large paper bag of produce. Damian had grown so much from the tiny 13 year old Jon had first known. He was now a full inch taller than Jon and probably 10 lbs heavier. It was funny since Jon was the one currently running around as Superman.

Damian sat his bag on the kitchen counter and wiped sweat from his brow. Jon was much more casually dressed in old blue jeans and a white t shirt with a rolled up and open red plaid button down over it. An old blue baseball cap was thrown over backwards on his head and little curls stuck out.

“You brought food. You know this is a farm, right?” Jon said with a smile. “We’re kinda known for having food.”

“I brought food to cook tonight,” Damian said trying to be casual. He had actually taken far too long deciding on the perfect food for him and Jon to eat their first night as roommates.

“Are you cooking for me?” Jon said with a pleased smile. The moving company was leaving and it was just the two of them.

“Yes, I thought it would be a good start,” Damian said formally. “No need to be so happy. It’s just dinner.”

“Of course,” Jon said trying to straighten his face. But how could he when Damian was living with him and cooking for him? Impossible task.

Damian busied himself in the small kitchen, looking in every drawer and cabinet. He noted that in the dying evening light, it perfectly captured the sunset. That was something that people paid huge amounts to even glimpse from their place in Gotham and Jon got a 360 view everyday.

“Well I have to feed the animals but I’ll be back soon. Do you need anything before I go?” Jon said in the doorway to the kitchen. He had thrown on a pair of rubber boots.

“Tt, you dare care for animals without me?” Damian said with a frown.

“Well I just thought- I mean you can- but you’re cooking,” Jon sputtered and Damian smiled.

“I’m playing with you. I’ll see them tomorrow. Otherwise the meal will be ruined,” Damian said. Jon laughed and shook his head as he left.

Damian looked at the photos that lined the hallway, smiling as he saw pictures of Jon as a child. Jon holding a fish he caught. Jon swinging a baseball bat. Jon holding up one end of a tractor. Right above it was a young Clark Kent doing the same. Damian shook his head with a little smile. He would never admit it but he was head over heels for Jon. Had been for a few years now.

“That’s the first time I lifted a tractor,” Jon said beside him. “Dad was so proud.”

“I imagine,” Damian answered. Clark was such a sore subject for Jon. His father had only been presumed dead the year before. Jon took it hard. He didn’t speak but watched Jon from the corner of his eyes.

“He never wanted to force me to be Superboy. I practically begged him. He was scared it was too dangerous,” Jon said with a sad smile. They both walked in the kitchen and Damian finished the food. Damian brought it to the table just as Jon shyly brought out a bottle of wine.

“Mr Kent, where did you get that?” Damian said with a little smile.

“Actually there’s an entire wine cellar full of the good stuff. Your father is quite fond of giving wine as a gift and Dad never liked to drink. So he stored it here,” Jon said pulling out a wine opener. “I thought we could drink it for him.”

“That’s very illegal,” Damian said expertly opening the bottle. “We’re both technically underage.”

“Anything is legal with enough money,” Jon said with a little grin and Damian laughed.

I’m an awful influence,” Damian replied. They spend the rest of the night eating and drinking wine before both crashing in their separate rooms in the early morning.

Jon crawled out of bed only a few hours later to feed the animals and get started on his day. He thanked his Kryptonian DNA for the lack of hang over he worried Damian would have. He crept quietly past his roommate’s door on his way out.

Jon returned a few hours later, still rather early, and was surprised by the smell of coffee. Damian was cooking breakfast for him. For them, Jon reminded himself. Damian was just his roommate. Damian nodded and poured Jon a cup of coffee.

“I thought you would still be asleep,” Jon admitted.

“I don’t require much sleep. Plus I want a tour of the property,” he said. Practical Damian as always, Jon thought.

“Sure, I’ll take you around. The farm and then town,” Jon added taking a huge plate of scrambled tofu and fried tomatoes. Damian had anticipated that.

“That’s a good plan. I don’t want to stand out in town. Should I wear a plaid shirt,” Damian asked.

“Uh, yeah. If you want. T shirts and jeans are fine too,” Jon said.

“May i borough these clothing from you? Mine are not appropriate for a farm,” Damian said casually and Jon willed himself to not have any emotion that Damian was going to wear his clothing.

Damian was extremely handsome in Jon’s plaid shirt and a pair of jeans. His bright green eyes and tan skin popped in the shirt and he had brushed his black hair neatly back as it had gotten long enough to fall in his eyes. Jon couldn’t help but stare at his Damian in his clothing. Logic be damned.

“What?” Damian asked looking at himself. “Does it look bad? I don’t want to appear foolish,” he said about to pull off the plaid shirt.

“No! No you look good. Nice,” Jon said and Damian’s lip twitched towards a smile.

“Thank you. Would you like to show me town first? Before we get muddy,” Damian said.

“Sure, that sounds good. I need to pick up feed anyways,” Jon said. They loaded into Jon’s old pickup. Krypto hopped into Damian’s lap as if he always had done it and they set off to town a few miles away.

“Here’s the library and the best Waffle House in Kansas. Second only to Ma Kent’s,” Jon said as they drove around. He showed Damian all the important sights in town. Damian had a hard time believing that everything was so compact and so small. Even the diner that Jon said they would eat lunch because they had the best pie short of Ma Kent.

They both, and Krypto, got out at the feed store and they treated Jon like old friends. He grabbed a basket and pushed it to the back as he chatted about all the interesting animals people owned to Damian. The Ferguson’s owned a pair of alpacas and old Skipper Smith had a parrot and monkey as pets.

Jon didn’t pay any attention as he easily lifted 4 50 lb bags of feed and casually put 200 lbs of feed in the basket. Damian looked around to see no one near. Jon did it again.

“Should get us through the week,” he said with a grin.

“You do know that most people don’t pick up 4 at once?” Damian told him quietly as they moved to the register. Jon stopped before nodded and laughing.

“You know I’ve never thought about it. Let’s get going before the diner gets a lunch rush,” he said. Jon tried to act more normal putting up the feed bags but tossing them one handed like bags of bread into the bed of a pick up truck was far from normal. Damian couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

The diner had about 12 booths and a row across the counter like old times. It probably was an older restaurant with the light blue tile and actual jukebox. Damian didn’t know what rush hour could possibly look like with all 7 people he’d seen since entering town but Jon seemed pleased to be earlier than them.

An older lady laid down a menu between them both and offered them coffee with a big grin. Jon ordered a chicken fried steak and Damian ended up getting the waffles. It was the only thing probably vegetarian on the menu.

“Oh shoot, I forgot you don’t eat meat. Sorry. Should I change my order,” Jon said raising his hand.

“No,” Damian said grasping Jon’s hand and pulling it down to the table. Jon’s heart just about beat out of his chest. “It’s fine. You don’t have to change what you eat for me.”

“Okay,” Jon said and the waitress came back to the table with drinks and eyed Damian’s hand on Jon’s.

“This your new partner, Kent,” she asked and Jon noted the judge tone to her voice as she sat down their glasses. Homophobia was still alive in the country. Damian didn’t notice.

“Yes, I just moved in last night,” Damian answered and Jon was frozen in time. Damian doesn’t understand what he means, Jon thought. He can’t.

“Oh, is that right? Took off to the city and brought back a city slicker. Well, each to their own,” she said with a passive aggressive smile. Jon sighed as she walked away. He didn’t know how to explain that to Damian. Was Damian even gay? Too late now. The whole town thought he was.

After eating their meal, Jon asked the waitress for pie to go. The diner had filled up and far too many people were glancing at the pair. Damian assumed it was because he was new in town or possibly they recognized him as a Wayne. Jon knew it was that he had brought home a man. Damian also didn’t quite pass as white with his tan skin and Arabic features so probably a dash of racism too.

Jon drive down to the park at the edge of town and parked by the pond. He put on a nice face but worried that Damian wouldn’t have as easy time in Smallville as Jon hoped.

“Something on your mind, Kent,” Damian said, sitting on the back hatch of the truck watching, the ducks swim.

“Nothing. Maybe I’m a little tired. Should have gone to bed earlier last night,” he said with a laugh. Damian looked at him out the corner of his eye but said nothing and continued eating his pie.

“This pie is made with quality,” Damian said and Jon smiled.

“Better than Alfred’s?”

“Different. Alfred makes amazing meat pies but he never quite understood American pies,” Damian answered. Jon nodded.

“I have to work the rest of the week,” he warned Damian.

“I have plenty of paperwork to keep me busy,” Damian answered. Jon knew he never had to worry about Damian that way. He always kept busy. This was probably his longest break.

The next 3 weeks consisted of getting up early to care for the animals before Jon left to work at the local paper. Damian would jog 3 miles down the dirt road that the Kent farm sat at the end of. By the end of the first week, a few of the neighbors would even wave at him. Jon counted himself as having the will of a Green Lantern to leave before Damian returned every morning. Damian was a sight to behold in his post workout glow pre-shower. He would come home and most of the time Damian was cooking dinner for him. Jon was really falling for the domestics of it all.

“Don’t get used to it, Kent,” Damian warned after Jon complimented an amazing dish Damian made. “Once school starts I can not act as a housewife to you.”

“You aren’t- Dami, you’re far from a housewife,” Jon sputtered. “I know that Flamebird has been seen in metropolis a few times this week alone.”

“Well, I needed to keep busy,” Damian said with a shrug. “Eat your eggplant.”

“I’ve probably eaten more vegetables this week than I have since I would summer with Ma,” Jon said. “But this is pretty good.”

“You’re welcome,” Damian said with a pleased smile. After dinner they sat on the swing on the porch and swung as they watched the sunset like an old married couple. Damian looked at Jon more often than he needed to as they talked about nothing. Jon was so pretty in the golden light. His bright blue eye and freckles looked adorable to Damian.

“And then in August we harvest-“ Jon had been saying before Damian cupped his face and pushed his lips against Jon’s. It was rough and their teeth clanged together and Jon pulled back with an “ow.”

“Shit,” Damian said, moving to get up. “I shouldn’t have- forget I-“

“Wait,” Jon said and Damian froze. He looked so uncertain and Jon had never seen that before. “Can we- can we try again?”

“You don’t have to pity me,” Damian said curtly, getting up. “Forget I did that. I apologize,” he said going inside.

Jon sat for a minute in shock. He had been in love with Damian forever and Damian finally kissed him and he couldn’t even enjoy it. Jon went inside and stood in front of Damian’s door. His hand tentatively considered knocking but Jon couldn’t do it. Just as he turned to walk away, Damian opened his door.

“I have to go to Gotham,” he said suddenly.

“What? If it’s me, you don’t have to leave,” Jon said quickly.

“No. My brothers need me,” Damian said and Jon noticed he had his suit on under his clothing.

“Do I need to come?”

“No. It’s okay. I’ll be back later this week hopefully,” Damian said dashing outside. The screen door swung and slapped the doorframe loudly. Jon ran on the porch.

“Week?” He called as Damian’s car pulled out the drive.

Jon fretted and obsessively watched the news everyday. Krypto was getting anxious without his 3 mile jog every morning. Late on the fourth day after Damian left, Jon heard the front door open. He raced to the door. Damian looked weary and had a slight limp.

“Hi,” Jon said looking Damian over and Damian offered a tired smile. Nothing broken. “Do you need help?”

“No. I need to sleep and I will be fine,” Damian said stubbornly. Jon rolled his eyes and helped him to his bed.

“Do you need anything?”

“No thank you. I will probably sleep late tomorrow,” Damian warned.

“Sure. Of course,” Jon said slowly closing the door as Damian fell asleep. Jon barely slept that night and got up early and called out of work for the day. Damian got up uncharacteristically late around 10 am.

“How are you?” Jon asked, offering him coffee. Damian took the drink before sitting next to Jon. He had a black eye and that limp was still around. The sun shone in bright in the kitchen and Damian was once again reminded the vast difference between smallville and Gotham.

“I’m fine. Thanks,” he said quietly. Jon didn’t want to pounce Damian the first second he got home but it was very hard to not want to talk about the kiss.

“You got mail,” Jon said, handing Damian a big Manila envelope that had come in the day before. Damian wordlessly opened it as he sipped coffee.

“Oh it’s yours,” he handed it over to Jon. Jon opened it with a confused look.

It was a deed. The Kent farm deed. The Kent farm deed in Jon’s name. He looked up at Damian who had a tired half smile.

“It’s in my name. You put it in my name,” he said. “W-why?”

“It’s the Kent farm. There’s too many things with the Wayne name on it,” he shrugged. “Plus I’m far from a farmer. It should be yours.”

“God Damian,” Jon said with tears in his eyes. He pulled Damian into a hug who squawked a protest that Jon ignored. “Thank you. I can’t- thank you,” he said wetly. Damian ignored how Jon was quietly crying on him. His grandma and dad passing had affected him hard and Damian knew he was crying over more than a house and land.

“You’re welcome,” Damian finally whispered and Jon cried even harder. Damian softly pat his back awkwardly. Jon leaned back but didn’t let Damian go. He gazed at Damian with the softest look.

“God Damian,” Jon repeated. “Do you even know how much I love you?”

Damian froze and just blinked at Jon who had pulled back but not out of the hug. “What?” He simply said and Jon’s face started to contort in pain. “Hold on,” Damian said and Jon warily looked at him. Damian knew he had to lean in or Jon would take it back and Damian would be too scared to do anything until Jon did this again. And he wasn’t sure how long Jon would wait.

Damian gently cupped Jon’s face in his hands and Jon breathed in quickly. Damian was clearly nervous. Damian noted how his face was soft and his skin warm. This time he gently bent over and softly pressed his lips against Jon’s. Jon quickly reacted by leaning in toward Damian. Jon could feel the rough pads of Damian’s fingers and taste the coffee Damian had been drinking. After a short while, Damian pulled back but not away.

“I truly care for you too,” he said softly and Jon grinned. “I’ve cared for you for a long time.”

“Same,” Jon said before leaning in to kiss Damian again. Damian kissed for another few seconds before pulling back again. This time Jon tried to follow his lips before stopping. Jon’s breath was erratic and fast. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“No. It’s okay. I’ve just never- I’ve never“ Damian started a bit lost for words. Jon understood what he meant.

“You’ve never been with a man,” Jon said gently.

“I’ve never taken the time for relationships with anyone. I’ve always been too busy,” Damian admitted. He played with the edge of a napkin nervously. He would never openly admit to being worried that his lack of experience was a flaw.

“We can go slow. Whatever you want,” Jon said and he finally looked at Damian the way he had never let himself before: like he was in love with him. Damian nodded.

“I’ve just never found anyone that interesting. I mean, beside you. After a while. I wanted to throw you off a bridge at first,” Damian said and Jon smiled.

“I know. You told me,” Jon said. “We should go out to eat. There’s a place downtown that has vegan options.”

“I didn’t even know there was a downtown here,” Damian admitted and Jon laughed.

“It’s a small town. Not a hut in the woods.”

The place wasn’t ‘rush hour’ packed but had plenty of tables with patrons. Damian and Jon sat at a booth and Damian almost couldn’t handle the lovey way Jon was looking at him. Jon was staring at Damian like he was the moon, even though Damian stood out like a sore thumb in the rural town in his turtleneck and dress slacks. But that was his comfort clothing and he had given up on fitting in long ago.

“I’m going to the restroom. Order for me?” Damian asked and Jon nodded. As Damian walked towards the back of the restaurant, a man in a brown jacket and rubber boots purposefully shoved Damian with his shoulder as he walked by. Damian turned to glare at him.

“Sorry, didn’t see any fruitcakes around here,” the guy said and Damian bristled. Before he could make a scene, Jon moved over to them.

“Hi Tyler. Do we have a problem here?” Jon said uncharacteristically cold. That guy didn’t realize that he picked the worst pair to insult. Tyler looked between Damian and Jon before deciding the fight wasn’t worth it.

“Nothing worth it,” Tyler said turning around. “Bad enough to bring a fruitcake to town, it had to a brown one too,” he muttered and Damian stiffened. He knew that he got looks when he went into town. He was probably the only person that spoke more than English or Spanish in town and certainly the only one to speak Arabic.

But before Damian could do anything else but feel disgust, Jon had punched the guy in the face. Well it was more of a flick with his fist but the guy went down like a rock. Damian hid his smile as him and Jon were hurried out of the restaurant with their food to go by a worried waitress who apologized to the pair.

As they walked back to the pickup truck, Damian reached out and grabbed Jon’s hand who lit up almost instantly. Damian ignored the butterflies in his stomach as he walked. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Jon either.

“You know, it’s not everyday that a guy gets Superman to defend his honor,” Damian said quietly but playfully and Jon laughed.

“Can’t handle bigots. I’ll let you punch the next one,” Jon said with a shrug.

“I would have punched that one,” Damian answered. He turned and pulled Jon to face him before taking his free hand that wasn’t carrying a bag. Damian gently cupped Jon’s face to place a kiss on Jon’s lips before going back to walking. Jon had a stupid smile all the way back home.

[alfredosauce50]

From a past life [Yandere vampire! Romania x reader]

Synopsis: For centuries, he waited for your return--your rebirth. So when he finally learns of your whereabouts just outside of Wallachia, he rushes to meet you in hopes of becoming what you both used to be. But he runs into a predicament when he learns you're in a relationship with a man, a pesky human mortal by the name of Daniel. He'll do anything to get rid of him, even if he has to play dirty. He made a promise to you that he would find you for the rest of your lifetimes, so God forbid that he breaks it. Wordcount: 3, 813 The reader is referred to as she/her.

A trip to Romania had always been on your bucket list. Your boyfriend was just as excited to go, but he wouldn’t have been if it turned out to be the last trip you'd ever go on with him.

Today was when you would visit the highlight of your itinerary. On the Transylvania side of the border with Wallachia, and nestled in miles of rolling hills, was Bran castle. The awe-inspiring fortress told one of the most famous tales of old as Count Dracula's abode. Or at least, it was rumored to be as it fit the description of it.

Needless to say, you were dragging him around the estate to admire anything and everything that piqued your interest or served as a potential photo spot. “Oh, hurry up, Daniel! This is where he slept!” Scrambling closer to the grand bed, which was certainly framed with more wood than needed, you leaned in behind the red rope that fenced off the artifact. Then, you flashed him a wide grin.

He returned the gesture with a tender smile of his own. “I'm as old as this castle, kicsim. Let me take things in slowly.”

“You're only three years older than me. I don't think you have the right to call me little or yourself old.” Flattening your lips at that, your frown melted away as quickly as it appeared.

“But look! Dracula's sheets and mattress. Though it would make more sense to say it was Vlad's... The guy he was based on. Hmm, but that wouldn't make sense either.”

The man rubbed the nape of his neck with a soft laugh. It was no doubt he shared your enthusiasm, but your unapologetic passion always made him fall harder than he already had. “Yep. I believe he was imprisoned here. I don't think he'd be getting the master bedroom.” He appeared from behind and rested himself on your head as you placed a pistol grip on your chin.

“Even then, I can't imagine him sleeping so soundly after sticking so many sticks up people's--” Two strong arms squeezed around your waist to make you gasp.

“Ah-!”

“Okay! What do you say we go down to the gardens for a walk, hm?”

And that was exactly what the two of you did. Skipping out in front of him, you held onto his hands and swung his arms. “I'm gonna go down to the pond, okay? You can enjoy this place nice and slowly like the old person you are.”

This was the greenest garden you ever had the pleasure to stroll through, even the tea house blended in with its moss-covered roof. It only emphasized how ancient this castle really was, and something about it delighted you in ways you couldn't articulate.

“Alright, kicsim. I'll see what nice flowers I'll add to my hair.” Daniel scooped the pink blossom from his hazel brown bangs and placed it behind your ear. “When I do, I'll come get you. Don't let any vampires find you before I do.” Shooting you a wink at that, you pecked him on the nose before running off.

Who would have thought those words would ring truer than he intended? Several miles away, slept a man who was as old as Bran castle. His name too was Vlad, though he never earned such a fearsome reputation by impaling his enemies. Instead, he kept a low profile and dedicated his long, neverending life to finding someone.

Every restless night, she was what he dreamed of since her passing.

When I go, promise me you'll find me again.

Promise me.

Fluttering his eyes awake, they glowed a blood-red in the darkness of his bedroom. They drooped with a tiredness that never seemed to go away no matter how much he rested.

Sliding off the mattress, he folded the flaps of his robes tightly around his body before making his way into the halls. Every corner of this humble countryside cottage he called his home was enshrouded with shadows, and not to mention the thick coating of dust caking the top of every shelf, couch, and tabletop.

He hadn't cleaned this house for centuries. His will to try withered away through the years in his lonesome, but he was patient. Peeking through the gap between the curtains of his overgrown hair, his irises shrunk as the blinding daylight poured into them through the drapes of his living room window. He could feel it in his dead still heart.

Something had changed.

Out there in the world scorched by the sun, was something even warmer. And it was so familiar, so tender, he could not mistake it for anything else, or anybody else for that matter.

She was nearby, and the thought filled him to the brim with a joy so potent, tears of relief welled in his wide eyes. He had waited hundreds of years for this moment. For her return. Her rebirth that would usher in his own.

The prospect was so invigorating, he felt as if his heart began to beat again. He never felt so alive. Scurrying back to his bedroom, he sat in front of his vanity to access his appearance. He had to look presentable before meeting her, hadn't he? A bedhead like this and nightwear would simply not do.

Especially when he hadn't cut his hair for at least twenty years.

Giving his long locks of strawberry-blonde a thorough comb, he let it fall straight down to his lower back. With a few quick snips, he shortened his bangs by a few inches to give the impression he had some sort of control over an otherwise uncontrollable mane of hair.

As he shed himself of his robes in exchange for day clothes, a white dress shirt paired with dark plaid pants, one singular thought repeated in his head like a broken record. As morbid as it sounded, it was more of a Godsend than anything.

Death was never the end. Not for her, and not for him. Or rather, a new beginning.

But it didn't start the way he imagined. Following her sweet scent to the gardens of the famed Bran castle, he found the smell growing more and more pungent, albeit confused. It was mixed with another's, tainted by the stench of a human male. His irises thinned to slits, and he tensed up all over. How could this be?

Hiding behind a tree, he peered over the side to confirm his suspicion.

There she was, her beauty as pristine and untouched as the last time he loved her. For just one second, he was over the moon. But his euphoria was short-lived when he saw that she was with a man. Kissing him, even. Even though it was just on the nose, any further down her face would have caused him to start an apocalypse.

That insignificant, trifling, and scheming little creature. He was about to reap what he sowed. How dare he take his place? It was him she was meant to with, not that pesky mortal!

Whipping his head to the front, his eyes went round with disbelief and his breathing grew ragged. An unfathomable ache spread in his chest as he dug his nails into the bark. How could he have let this happen? It took every shred of his willpower to keep the waterworks at bay.

His throbbing heart was also weighed down with a pang of heavy guilt. To allow another soul to be this close to her was a grave disservice to the promise he made. But that didn't mean he couldn't undo this.

In just a few seconds, he formulated an intricate plan to carry out well-deserved revenge. To have her in his arms again, and him, out of the picture where he belonged. In the blink of an eye, he appeared behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder. When he spun around, he grabbed him by the neck and caught him in a trance with his hypnotizing, inhuman gaze.

“You will give these flowers to the nearest young woman you see. Put them in her hair and kiss her on the lips.” Opening his own palm, he materialized three peonies before placing them in the other's.

Unable to escape the powerful snare cast by a vampire such as himself, Daniel did so as told. “I will give these flowers to the nearest young woman I see. I will put them in her hair and kiss her on the lips.” He reiterated monotonously with his eyes glazed over.

Watching the helpless man saunter off, he smirked devilishly as he exchanged glances with his long-lost lover. This would hurt her a great deal, but she would only be devastated if he never did it.

You had been watching the pond, completely ignorant to the scene that was about to unfold. Little did you know, it was purposely orchestrated. Using a stick to prod at your reflection, you lingered on the ripples distorting it before glancing up. In the distance was none other than your boyfriend, and judging from the pink in his hands, he found his flowers.

So you stood up. You would have snuck up on him as a surprise, but your feet remained firmly planted on the ground when you witnessed him give it away, then flirt with another woman. It couldn't be mistaken for anything else. He was kissing her!

Frankly, you couldn't believe it. One year was all it took for him to lose interest? Blood flushed your face as bile rose in your throat. How could he? And during a vacation at that, too! Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes, but you blinked them away when you heard the light treading of feet nearby.

This had to be a misunderstanding. Right?

Spinning to the source, you found yourself staring at the most peculiar man you had ever seen. He carried a delicate parasol to shade him from the sunlight. Combined with his pasty white skin, it was almost as if he was one of the very mythological creatures the country was renowned for.

He smiled gently, almost understandingly.

“Are you alright, domnișoară? I have a spare handkerchief if you'd like.” His alluring voice was as bewitching as a siren, but his mere presence brought you unspeakable comfort. And yet, he was nothing but a stranger, an odd one at that, so you were at a loss to realize that all it took for you to gravitate towards him was for your eyes to meet.

“I'm okay, thank you. But I couldn't possibly accept something like that. I mean, I don't know you...” Waving your hands at the man apologetically, you took the opportunity to scan him up and down.

As if he walked right out of a fairytale, he oozed prince-like charm. His clothes were traditional and refined, but that long, silky hair of his was certainly a rare sight--rare but breathtakingly beautiful. It gave his character untold notions of grandeur, mystery, and an inexplicable impression he was ancient.

But that couldn't be, not when he didn't look a day over twenty.

“What do you mean, you won't take it? It's yours.” He pulled out a small piece of fabric from his sleeve. Placing the finely embroidered cloth into your palm, he never gave you the chance to object. “It would be rude to regift something, so you'll have to keep it forever.” Mischief curled at his lips, and you couldn't help but laugh a little.

“Alright, alright, you got me there.”

You dabbed away the moisture before breathing out a sigh.

“I'm sure you're a very nice person, but I can't bother you more than I already have. Thank you, again, Mr. Vampire.” If it weren't for how heartbroken you were, you would have been mortified. Being pitied by a Romanian local was never part of your plan.

Just when you were betrayed by Daniel, he appeared like a knight in shining armor. If only you could forget what happened between you and your boyfriend. Otherwise, you would be bragging about meeting a vampire in Romania for as long as you could talk.

“Mr. Vampire?” He lifted his head before revealing a pair of sharp fangs in a grin. Now that caught you off guard. “You don't see me calling you miss human--and I have a name, thank you very much.” As he placed his gloved hand on his chest to playfully feign offense, he bit back another smile at the sound of your amused giggling.

Despite what happened a few minutes ago, talking to this actor was making you feel better already.

“And let me guess, is it Alucard?” You shook your head. “Or is it Vlad? You can't possibly call yourself Dracula looking like that.”

He blinked incredulously, then curved an arm over his face as if to cover himself with his non-existent cloak. “How did you know?”

“That your name is Alucard?”

“No, Vlad.”

“Okay, close enough. It was nice meeting you, Vlad, but I have a stupid boyfriend to scream at.” At the mention of that, you looked like you were on the verge of tears again. “All I'm hoping is that he's still my boyfriend after this. If only he were as much of a gentleman as you.”

He reflected your distress in a frown, and you would have been surprised by how much this apparently bothered him. But you already walked off. So he offered one last niceity before you strayed too far. “Good luck with your boyfriend.”

“No promises.”

He let those two words affect him more than he intended. Needless to say, he moved on quickly to watch you run to the unsuspecting brunette. Soon, his anguish was staved off by the sight of you shoving him back a few steps.

What looked like a one-sided argument broke out, and all the poor, confused man could do was just that--be confused. Shortly after, you stormed off, and he jogged behind, desperately calling your name.

A sinister smile cracked at Vlad's lips, and his irises glowed red. That little thing had no idea what was yet to happen to him.

That night, Daniel took you to the Brașov city hall for dinner. The beautiful buildings surrounding a fountain were as traditional as they were clean. Too bad your zeal was burned away by your anger. In the few hours in the hotel before, he barely managed to soothe it by explaining himself. A given, considering his explanation made no sense whatsoever.

He couldn't remember flirting with a woman.

“I think we could share a pizza. Are you okay with that?” Lifting his gaze to meet yours, you only turned away to stare out the window into the endless night. Your spaciness was deserved on his part, but little did he know, it only had so much to do with his wrongdoings.

The eccentric local never left your mind. After all, he gave you something to smile about with his whimsical kindness.

Vlad must have been an entertainer, a virtuoso at that, but his actions never came off as ingenuine. To be frank, you were drawn to his sincerity, and even looking for him subconsciously, wishing that he could magically appear because you willed it.

If only Daniel could be just as sincere.

“I must be okay with a lot of things.” His face fell. The same sorrow from when he was at the hotel room returned, but you couldn't care to give it any attention. “Like you pretending you didn't kiss someone right in front of me because you don't remember. I'm not stupid. Who else would have long hair tied back and flowers in their fringe?”

Daniel knitted his brows so tightly together, creases formed between them. “... I know it sounds like I'm lying, but I swear to you I didn't do it. You know me, (F/N).” At this point, he hadn't the foggiest what to say to appease you because he simply didn't do it. “I promise. All I'm asking is for you to trust me.”

“You promise?” You fumed.

There was only one thing you hated more than a liar.

“I trusted you, Daniel, I really did. But how could you ask me to trust you after I talked to that girl? She remembered it, so why can't you? Did you think I was that crazily into you I could let anything slide?” The biting truth silenced him, but it was the sound of you choking back tears that broke his heart.

“I'm gonna go to the bathroom to think this over.”

He had no way to argue with you, let alone the heart to when it was just broken and crushed to a thin slab of flesh. What if he really did kiss someone, and miraculously forgot?

“When I come back, I better not see you kissing anybody again.”

Standing up at that, he watched you leave with a defeated expression. Then, he folded his arms across the table and buried his face into it. There was no way he could fail that, could he?

What were the odds of kissing someone again when he had absolutely no intention to? The chances were dwindling at zero as he kept his head down. Unless supernatural forces were at work, nothing could get him to budge from sitting at this table.

But even he couldn't count on the world of the mundane to save him.

Sitting a few tables away was the exact opposite of mundane. When the front door slammed shut, he stood up and walked to the customer with their head down. While all the men in the establishment wore their hair short, his was long and flowing like time itself. There was something other-worldly about him. Something ghostly in the way he walked.

With every step he took, his feet never seemed to touch the ground as if he was floating. And his pale complexion was just as macabre as how he carried himself.

Not a minute passed, and Daniel found himself standing outside by the fountain. With absolutely no recollection, he somehow left the restaurant and wound up here in the festive courtyard. As shock paralyzed him from head to toe, the only thought that occurred to him was this. What in the hell was going on?

Rather than sitting head down in the warm restaurant, he was out here, chilled by the biting European cold. Couldn't he have at least remembered the transition?

In front of him was the same woman he supposedly flirted with in the gardens. And judging from the blush on her cheeks, he just threw away all his chances at making up with you.

“Listen, I... I don't know you. Forget me. Forget this ever happened.” Daniel trembled, feeling a chill run down his spine as he staggered back a few steps. It was like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. There was just no sound explanation for this when this situation wasn't sound at all. Whatever it was, this was clearly a case of sabotage.

And like hell he was giving in to whoever that masterminded it.

He ran back inside with a fearful kind of urgency. Rushing back to the table he unwillingly abandoned, he froze when he saw you marching towards him down the aisle with murder on your mind. But death was too lenient a punishment. It would grant him a clean slate, a new beginning from a past life of unfaithfulness.

So he was splashed with a glass of red wine instead.

As the crimson liquid soaked his hair, it spread over his shirt like blood. After you saw what he did, the last shred of hope you didn't know you had died, squelched out there on his clothes for the world to see. A chorus of gasps was heard from every corner of the restaurant. Unbeknownst to the patrons who murmured amongst themselves, it wasn't just any lover's quarrel they were watching.

Daniel's breath hitched as he struggled to process his mortification. Behind you stood the very gentleman that tapped him awake, but he never made the connection between him and his misfortunes.

And perhaps, it was better that way.

After leaving your boyfriend for good, Vlad offered to walk with you around the city. Once again, he had swooped in to save you, only this time around, he was staying.

“So... What are you gonna do now?” He asked, casting a tender gaze your way. Before you could wrap your arms around yourself, he beat you to it and flung his cloak around your body. When you gawked at him, he only grinned toothily with his fangs.

Your cheeks reddened and you turned away. Why he was still in his vampire getup was beyond you. But seeing his enthusiasm only reminded you that you lost yours. “... Book another hotel room. Spend the rest of this holiday crying. Maybe never think of this country ever again.”

“And I'm not letting you do any of those things.” He hummed, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Why do you think I'm walking with you right now, hm? I'm gonna take you around to the best spots in Transylvania. The most haunted ones, I mean. So you can forget about going back to the hotel.”

You sighed but managed a small smile. “That's great and all, but I'm not made of money. And my stuff is all there.”

He squinted. “... Oh yeah. But after we get your stuff, we can go elsewhere, can't we?”

A few laughs fell from your lips. His generosity really knew no bounds. “Your house, then? You do realize I only met you today, right?”

Vlad closed his eyes. He could beg to differ.

“But you're still walking with me alone. In the dark.”

“Only because you saw me cry twice today. I wouldn't be mad if you killed me so I don't have to be so embarrassed.” He frowned at the sound of that, so you added this. “I was just kidding. Something about you just makes me feel... Strangely comfortable. Like I've met you before. Isn't that weird?”

“... Not really.” Reaching the top of a hill, he stared at an old castle in the distance, sitting high up in the mountains. “There's a legend about this city. Hundreds of years ago, a vampire and a human woman fell in love. She died, of course. But people say he's still around, waiting for her to reincarnate so they can be together again.”

The way he spoke was so sad, it was almost as if he was that very vampire himself. But what did that have to do with you?

“... Okay. Then do you think he'll ever find her?”

Vlad turned to you with an unreadable expression, but there was an untold fondness in how he looked at you.

“He already has.”