#i'm pretty sure i caught them all but if there appears to be a common noun or an adjective where a name would make more sense

[riverstardis]

series 32 episode 28:

that's a slightly ominous opening sjsdjjs

rash and bea running into work. rash hiding his runner past?

now rash has conquered resus he's begging alicia for more exciting cases so she gives him the incoming patient from prison sjdjdhjsf

aw alicia's still trying to apologise to ethan "i don't want it to be like this. look, i messed up, i don't know what else to say apart from i'm sorry. what i wrote i never intended you as the target." :( ethan's like "you humiliated me. and now you're upset because there's bad blood?" exactly!

"almost there" "lock up your nurses" "well, ours are called charlie, jacob, and david." SJKSDJJD

bea's uncle was english, as is her mum. i guess that makes sense actually because she lives in england

ah ethan tells bea he's cleared it for her to spend the week on orthopaedics where the head of department ms alex broadhurst teaches at the international trauma course that he put her up for... that means we're about to meet eddie

yup there he is🤬🤬🤬

bea's a graduate of swansea and won some "contribution to operations support award"

ms broadhurst's pretty fit ngl. also i feel like i've heard her name somewhere else?? i mean obviously i've seen these eps with her in a few times so it could just be that but i feel like it was another time outside of this storyline? has she appeared or been mentioned on the show any other times?

aw the prisoner kneeing rash in the face

gem's bonding with the prisoner over their prison time

oop eddie making bea take over from him because he's having problems with his contact lens apparently but then when the drill bit chips off and she wants to tell ms broadhurst he encourages her not to😬

"one cannot bring up boys to be eagles and then expect them to be sparrows"

bea telling rash about eddie "i swear the term 'punch me face' was designed with him specifically in mind" lmaooo so true

lmao rash telling bea everyone's annoyed about having pick up her slack while she's up in orthopaedics and then he's like "it's not you they're annoyed with, it's our elusive clinical lead. seriously i never see the guy unless he's in my face shouting about something."😭😭😭 i suspect the reason why rash isn't seeing him is probably that he's avoiding alicia and rash is her mentee😭 bea's like "well, he's got a lot on. it's not his fault you wimped out on a patient because he scared you." and rash is like "he nearly broke my nose!" sjsjdjsf i miss them

oop ethan finding alicia and having a go at her for getting dylan and rash to swap patients without telling him and she says she couldn't find him and he gets his phone out and points at it like "okay, this works, for the record, so next time use it, yeah?" helppp😭😭

and now charlie's got to give his opinion🙄 lmao ethan just says he could do without the fatherly pep talk right now😭 that's exactly what i was saying a while ago about how charlie's pep talks never work on ethan! something which charlie is obviously at least somewhat aware of because he doesn't keep trying he just switches tactic and gives him a telling off instead. god charlie's so annoying.

so ethan's presumably been hiding somewhere other than his office if alicia couldn't find him so they SHOULD be showing his side of things because he's obviously struggling! but instead they're leaving everything they could have used to keep him in character (as in, show why he's behaving as he is) off screen and just making him act like an arsehole

urgh eddie taking credit for the surgery >:(

woo go rash!!

rash jumping on the bonnet of the car to save gem sjsdjjsf

alicia telling charlie she needs ethan to sign off on a load of stuff but that she can't find him anyway and he says he thinks he's in a meeting and she's like "honestly, he makes this impossible" does she really not understand why he's still angry at her??? charlie asks her why on earth she wrote all that stuff on the blog "you must've known that he would take a lot of that personally" RIGHT?! alicia says "i don't know. i felt helpless and angry and it was an outlet. it was on impulse and then it just took on a life of its own. look, i know i've hurt people, are you gonna tell anyone?" he says that people have a right to know but he doesn't know how that would help anyone and "it hasn't been easy here lately, but the one who'll be feeling that the most is ethan."

the fact that no one else ever found out it was alicia makes me wonder if everyone just kept on thinking it was rash. because if noel was telling people that ethan thought it was rash, and then they found out that whoever it was had been found out and the blog stopped, they would just assume that he was right wouldn't they? except that rash wasn't aware that ethan ever thought it was him so it would be funny if someone just mentioned it offhandedly sometime in the future and rash would be confused why everyone thought it was him and then they would all be confused because they'd spend so long just assuming that it was sjdsjjsf

bea is WAY out of her comfort zone in this fancy restaurant with ms broadhurst and eddie😭

aww bea comes clean about the drill bit chipping but covers for eddie by saying that she asked to do it instead of him. and when ms broadhurst asks why they didn't tell her eddie tries to say they didn't want to create a complication where they didn't think it was necessary but bea says they were thinking about the international trauma course and trying to impress her. she's deffo just saved her arse, and won alex's favour, by properly telling the truth

aw yeah she's speaking to bea after eddie's gone and says she knows that it was eddie who asked her to take over and to hide the mistake but the fact she played along made her just as culpable, but she says that "playing the game" as in passing blame to score points isn't the only way and that she sees something in her. go on bea!!!

hey as much as i don't particularly care about rash and gem that much, at least they didn't just write them in out of nowhere and then try and gaslight us into thinking there had been something there all along!

[sungbeam]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞

dragon shifter!park seonghwa x f!reader

just because you're both dragon shifters doesn't mean this courtship thing is easy.

▷ 6.1k words, pg-13, f2l, dragon shifters au, urban fantasy, swearing, mentions of a big roach/insect, shoulder kiss, seonghwa goes shirtless once (1), mentions of courtship/mating traditions, the boys are implicit in shenanigans ofc, love in the form of jewelry, very mild jealousy, pining

a/n: this au idea was like ,,, 3 months in the making but i reopened the draft yesterday cuz i was tired of rotting 😭 anyways... i think shy, romantic seonghwa is cute ! (also very much hoping this isn't too boring jsfnkdnf)

Park Seonghwa was pretty sure he fell in love with you the day you met. 

It wasn't something he openly admitted to, especially since his attraction had come first when he saw you across the dormitory common room, and was struck dumb by the curve of your smile and the way the sunlight hit your irises to make them glint like jewels. While it was stereotypical to think that dragons only cared about appearances, it didn't come from nothing. It was part of the reason why Seonghwa didn't like saying it was love at first sight; it technically wasn't, by all definitions. He just thought you were beautiful. 

It wasn't until he finally worked up the courage (thanks to his best friend Hongjoong's encouragement (shoving)) to introduce himself to you that he realized what you were—a dragon shifter, just like him. It was no wonder he felt a pull toward you; dragon shifters were a dime a dozen, especially in the city where you both attended university. He told himself his fast friendship and bonding with you came from his excitement of being the same species, as well as learning each other's cultures and traditions, as you came from different clans. 

Though, that didn't account for the amount of times he daydreamed about adorning you in his family's jewels, as it was customary in courtship traditions to wear one's mate's gems. Neither did it account for the way his heart beat faster whenever you were around, the purring from his chest after that one time you fell asleep on his shoulder… It was complicated. 

“Everyone, let's load up the cars! Quick—off your asses. Let's move, people!” Hongjoong hollered like a drill sergeant, his hands cupped around his mouth before clapping too loud for six in the morning on a Saturday. 

Who in their right mind would be crazy enough to wake up so early on the Saturday of their last spring break? Only one demon in particular, and his name was Kim Hongjoong. 

Seonghwa was still half asleep, his eyelids droopy and his limbs even droopier. He nearly flopped face-first onto the pavement outside the apartment complex. He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and slumped over to the passenger side of the SUV. It had taken all of his willpower to not trudge out in his Lego Movie pajama set.

“—and for goddess's sake, where is Yn?”

He jolted upright. “Yn?” He blubbered, head going on a swivel. 

Hongjoong peered at him weirdly with his hands on his hips, and Wooyoung snorted, then scurried past to avoid Seonghwa's scowl. “Yes, Yn,” Hongjoong said. “Are you awake, Hwa? We literally talked about Yn coming on the trip with us last night.”

Oh. Right. 

Seonghwa blinked his bleary eyes open and nodded sheepishly. Thank goodness he wasn't in his Lego Movie pajamas. “Y-yep, of course I remember!” 

He glanced away, nostrils flaring as he caught onto a familiar scent coming down the street. He could pick out the smell of apple blossoms, tangerines, and your particular musk from a mile away if he was more awake.

“Sorry, I'm late!” Then there came the voice. Your voice simultaneously jump-started his heart and made his heart swoon. If he was about to faint, it probably wasn't going to be from sleep deprivation. 

He couldn't believe he nearly forgot you were coming to the lake with them. 

Your form came into view, your hair a windswept mess and a sheepish sort of smile on your face as you wrestled with the duffle on one shoulder, your backpack on the other, and a paper grocery bag. 

Seonghwa practically fell over himself in order to drop his own bag on the sidewalk and rush over to you. “Here, I got it,” he murmured, taking the grocery bag and duffle bag away from you so he could hold them. 

Your smile widened at him, and he swore the soft morning light was purposefully making your eyes glow right now. “Thanks, Hwa. Very sweet of you.”

“Of course,” he said with a humble nod, pointedly ignoring all of the looks he was getting from his friends. 

“You're just on time,” Hongjoong greeted you with a small smile. “How were exams for you?”

You brushed a hand through your hair, a tired laugh falling from your lips. “They were… alright,” you opted to say. “Glad they're over now, and I'm so ready for this trip.” You gestured to the grocery bag Seonghwa held. “Oh! I brought snacks, by the way.”

Mingi stuck his entire upper body out of the passenger seat of Yunho's sedan. “Yn-ah! You're riding in our car, right?” 

Seonghwa's expression molded into something sour. “Where did you get that idea from?”

“Mingi, you should just give up now,” San chuckled. He sent a wink over to Seonghwa, then glanced back at the naiad who's head Seonghwa was currently trying to glare a hole through. “We’ve already claimed Yn for our car.”

You looked on in confused amusement. “I'll split the snacks between the cars, guys. And plus, the SUV will have more room than the sedan.”

“Exactly,” Seonghwa piped up. He marched over to the back doors of the SUV to safely deposit your things within. There was no need for you to be squished between Yeosang and Jongho in Yunho's comically tiny car, when you could be in the same car as him—no, wait. That wasn't what he meant—

“Well, this is just favoritism,” Yunho jested as he slammed his trunk shut. He shot you a sunny grin that made Seonghwa glance over at you for your reaction. Yunho's being half-siren always made his voice and gestures a little more silken and sweet than the rest of them. “Are you sure it's 'cause of the extra room and not because Wooyoung's cat is gonna be in that car?”

You chuckled, shrugging. As if on cue, a lithe feline in silky black fur trotted out from the bushes. She strutted over to you, purring as she wrapped her tail around your calf. “Okay, maybe you caught me,” you said, crouching down to pet Wooyoung's cat familiar. 

Seonghwa was not going to be jealous over a cat. He was absolutely not. Some sleep would screw his head on straight—yes, sleep did sound nice. He didn't know what was up with himself this morning. 

“Pretty sure she loves you more than she loves me,” Wooyoung pouted as he stuck his head out of the SUV's back window. 

You picked the feline up with your hands, and she gave a crooning meow as you held her up to her witch through the window. “I wouldn't mind adopting her if she wasn't permanently bound to you.”

Seonghwa's eye twitched at the same time he and Hongjoong made eye contact. 

The demon's mouth curled into a knowing, teasing smile—I see you. Seonghwa could feel the heat lift to the surface of his skin as he ducked into the car. He really needed a nap.  

The remainder of the time was used swiftly as everyone finished packing things into your respective cars, including your bodies. About an hour later, you were well on your way out of the city. 

As this was all nine of yours last year of university, this spring break needed to be a memorable one. Yeosang had heard talk through the grapevine of a collection of interlinking caves overlooking a small lake. It was located a few hours out of the city proper, but it would pose as a peaceful getaway for the week. Each of the small caverns were open facing, peering over the water's surface, and each was designed to be like rooms in a house. There would be enough for the boys to sleep two to a bed, with you getting your own. 

The drive out of the city was an easy one. Seonghwa slept nearly the entire time, only waking up to a near-quiet car, save for Hongjoong's choice of music playing softly from the radio. 

“'Morning,” Hongjoong murmured, taking his eyes off the road for a brief moment. 

Seonghwa yawned and turned his eyes up and outward at the world around him. Concrete jungle had become emerald green trees speared with beams of buttery sunshine. He bet it smelled glorious. “Morning,” he said back quietly. “Are they still…” 

His voice trailed off as he twisted around in his seat and took in the middle row behind him. You, San, and Wooyoung were squished arm to arm, thigh to thigh; Wooyoung's black cat familiar laid fast asleep in Wooyoung's lap, with Wooyoung's head against San, San's head against you, and your head against the car window. Seonghwa cooed to himself at the sight, carefully snapping a picture with his phone, before returning to face the front. 

The remainder of the drive was swift, and as you approached the site of your home for the next several days, you all slowly began to wake up. Seonghwa rolled his window down and braced his arm over the open sill, a smile breaking onto his lips as he greedily inhaled the clean, crisp air. 

His eyes flickered to the side mirror, locking gazes with you. For a moment, he held your eye contact. He watched your mouth curve into that pretty smile of yours that made his insides flutter, before you looked out at the forest again. 

When Hongjoong's and Yunho's cars broke out of the trees and into the next clearing, everyone's breaths stole away. 

“No way we scored this good,” San whispered in giddy excitement as he shoved his body between Hongjoong and Seonghwa to peer out the front windshield. 

Before you stood a wide lake, its waters so clear that one could see straight to the bottom. The caverns that you would all bunker up in were on the far shore, stacked atop one another in two layers with four openings on the bottom and three on the top. A waterfall curtained off two of the cavern rooms as it flowed from the rocky outcropping that loomed over the lake, and into the lake itself; the sound was not thunderous, but a dull sort of roar that was almost muffled. 

With the sun rising higher into the sky, its beams reflected off the cascading spray of water to create a small rainbow in the mist. Suffice to say, the view in front of you deserved its own magazine. 

“Let's get our spring break on!” Wooyoung hooted as Hongjoong pulled the car around the shore of the lake to reach the base of the caverns. 

As the day sank from late morning to early afternoon, you and your friends transferred all of your belongings from the cars and into the caverns. Rooms were decided by an efficient round of Rock Paper Scissors—you luckily scored first, and chose the most private room behind the waterfall for yourself. 

Once everyone was settled, it became a race of who could get into the water—

“WAAAAHOOOO!” SPLASH!

—first. 

Seonghwa peered out from the living room cavern on the second floor to see the bodies below take a running start into the lake. He chuckled to himself, leaning his hip against the wall with a can of soda in his hand as he watched his friends break the surface of the lake, one by one. 

“You're not swimming?”

Seonghwa nearly fell forward and out of the open cave, down into the water. His hand slapped against the wall to catch himself, his heart practically tumbling out of his chest anyway. 

To your credit, you looked apologetic, grimacing through a smile as you came to stand next to him. “Sorry. You didn't hear me come in?” 

You had changed out of your T-shirt and shorts from earlier into a cropped tank top and loose skirt, a silver waist chain winking up at him from where it linked around your belly. 

The thought shoved itself into his brain—that you would look terribly divine in his jewelry.

He swallowed, dragging his eyes up back to yours. “I didn't,” he admitted sheepishly. “Guess I was too focused on watching everyone else. Have you settled in alright?”

You had chosen the cavern bedroom right next to the living room, but it was the only bedroom on this level. 

With a nod, you turned your gaze outward at the ocean of emerald green trees surrounding this little oasis. “I have,” you said pleasantly. “You?”

“Same here.” He carded a hand through his hair. “It's really quite beautiful here.” But not as beautiful as you. 

You glanced over at him again, and he wondered if he could concoct enough things to say to keep your attention on him. “Oh, I definitely agree; it's a perfect paradise, really. The waterfall” — you inclined your chin to your left — “I think it'll be most beautiful at sunset.”

He lifted one of his brows and pushed off the cavern wall. “Oh? Why do you think so?”

“If the sunset faces us,” you explained, gesturing your hand out to the eastern horizon in the distance, “then it'll reflect its light against the waterfall. As the sun sinks down and lights the sky on fire, so too will it set the water aflame.”

Seonghwa could envision your words in his mind's eye as he took in the waterfall careening into the lake below. Its crystal blue waters were so clear that it undoubtedly would reflect the shades of the sunset, and become illuminated as you said—where water turned to flame. 

A soft smile came to his face. What a gorgeous image. 

“I bet it'd look incredible from the skies.” Your words drew him back to your face. You were already looking over at him, and his heart gave a loving lurch. 

Seonghwa cleared his throat. “I agree. Have you been able to stretch your wings recently?”

You hummed, tilting your head from side to side. “Not super recently because I was locked inside to study for the last week or two. You?”

“Same,” he chuckled and reached behind his back to scratch at the nape of his neck. Usually, he tried to shift into dragon form at least twice a week to keep his wings strong, but when life got busy, it was difficult to find enough time to take to the skies. “Would—would you like to take a flight with me sometime?” He stammered, fumbling over his words. “Just, y'know, like a casual thing.”

Excellent, Hwa. The spitting image of confidence. 

He sipped on his soda, already hearing Hongjoong's exasperated sigh in his ear. 

Your smile softened at the corners. “I'd love to. After dinner, maybe?”

His shoulders loosened in relief. “Sounds like a plan.”

“This is your chance! It's a sign!” 

Seonghwa frowned at his reflection in the vanity mirror as he played around with his dark curls. Tied up? Kept down? It really didn't matter; he was literally going to be a dragon for the majority of the time, but it never hurt to appear well-groomed before a potential… ahem, friend. A friend. 

Hongjoong slumped down on the foot of their shared bed, a deadpan on his face when Seonghwa continued to ignore him. “Park Seonghwa, so help me, I will plant one of your anklets in her jewelry box—”

“And if you do that,” Seonghwa drawled as he gave up on his hair and reached for the tube of lip gloss on the vanity top, “I will tell that elven girl you've become so fond of about how you—”

“Okay, I got it,” Hongjoong cut in with a scowl. “Aish, so touchy. I'm just saying that this trip is the perfect opportunity to let her know how you feel, and to court her.”

Seonghwa knew that; of course, he fucking knew that. The thing was that if anything went poorly, you would practically be stuck here with him until the end of the trip. He cringed to himself at the mere awkwardness of that potential outcome. “It's just a wing stretch,” he reasoned aloud to himself. He grabbed one of the bottles of cologne on the table to spritz around his scent glands. “It's not like I'm going to offer her a necklace.”

“Yes, because you need to smell nice for a wing stretch.” Hongjoong fell back onto the bed with a grumble under his breath at Seonghwa's stubbornness. 

Dinner had finished up about fifteen minutes ago, and while everyone departed to do their own activities, you and Seonghwa agreed to reconvene at the tops of the caves in five minutes for your planned flight together. The days were growing longer as spring waltzed toward summer, and thus, the sun reigned the skies for a lengthier period of time. The two of you would ideally circle back in time to watch the sunset hit the waterfall.

Seonghwa left Hongjoong to their quarters as he made his way up to the rocky outcropping at the top of the waterfall. 

You were already waiting for him, your bare feet standing in the shallow end of the river leading down to the waterfall. You still had on the top and skirt from earlier, and as a light breeze wafted past, it blew through your hair and your clothes like a dream. 

You glanced up at him. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are.” He grinned as the anticipation and excitement of breaking his wings free slowly bubbled up into his chest. It wasn't only being able to spend time with you, but simply the thoughts of being his dragon self that made him so giddy. 

You hopped out of the river and padded across the soil toward him. 

Once you were in line with him, Seonghwa flashed you a wide smile and sprinted toward the cliff edge. Your laughter followed him as he dove off toward the water below, eyes falling closed as he relished in the wind whipping past his skin. 

When he opened his eyes, he skimmed the water's surface with the edge of a veiny, membranous wing, before swooping back up toward the ripening sky above. His humanoid features had fully transformed into that of a creature nearly five times his human height. Scales of obsidian, gleaming a dark blue in the light, rippled across his back, his skin. He huffed steam from his nostrils and searched for you. 

A body of iridescent white, so pearly that you appeared a shade of light purple in the burning gold light, blurred in his periphery. 

He whipped his head in your direction, watching you soar around him in a loose circle. You wrapped around him and grazed the end of your tail against his, a caress. 

He didn't want to think too much about that. 

And then your irises, blue-purple in this form, were blinking at him. Northward? Your snout gestured in that vague direction. 

Seonghwa huffed his agreement, and the pair of you took off into the skies. 

A dragon shifter's courtship traditions were different from other shifters’ cultures. For one, the value of wearing a potential mate's jewelry was equivalent to acceptance of courtship; additionally, wearing one another's jewels essentially spelled out a long-term partnership. It was similar to humans’ exchanging of rings. 

Dragons dressed their mates in their own jewels as dragons were ruthlessly protective of their hoards of treasures, and a mate was even more precious than any jewel one could acquire. There were other rituals, too—such as dousing one another in dragonfire, performing a certain mating dance, consuming meals made by their mate—but the jewels had always been emphasized in Seonghwa's clan. 

It was why he stiffened when he saw a slim, silver chain wrapped around your ankle this morning. 

The piece of jewelry looked awfully similar to something he owned, except the one you wore was studded with an amethyst on the tail, whereas the one he owned was studded with sapphire. He struggled to swallow as he stepped into the kitchen, eyes pinned to your ankle. 

The way the light refracted off the gem made the article appear so much like his own jewelry; his heart could not take a scare like that so early. Perhaps scare wasn't such an accurate word—he simply hadn't had the time to mentally prepare. 

It didn't matter how long he'd fantasized about it. Seeing the real thing would likely bring him to his knees regardless. 

“Hwa,” your amused chuckle greeted his ears as you peered at him from over the rim of your coffee cup. “Good morning.”

He tried for a smile and forced himself to look at something, anything, other than your ankle. “Hi. Good morning.” Seonghwa grabbed a cup of his own to pour a helping of the brew into. “Sleep well?”

You rolled your shoulders back, followed by your neck. But as he blew on the hot coffee, he failed to notice the way your eyes watched his movements regarding the coffee. “Mhm, way better after we flew last night.”

Seonghwa hummed warmly. “Yes, same here.” Last night was a blissful night of deep sleep. The tension between his shoulder blades had lessened considerably. 

He took a gentle sip of his beverage, and the rich bittersweetness hit him as an alluring wakeup call. You were still watching as he took a larger gulp. 

His eyes met yours. “Something wrong?” He asked, licking his lips. 

Your eyes widened. “Nope,” you squeaked out. You coughed, setting your mug on the table to lace your fingers together. “Uhm so… thoughts on kebabs for lunch? I was gonna go hunting later.”

“Mmh.” Seonghwa drained his cup of coffee. “That sounds good. I can go with you—if you'd like,” he added swiftly. Sometimes hunting could be a therapeutic solo trip and he hoped he wasn't encroaching. Though, going hunting just the two of you sounded nice, too. 

“I'd love the company,” you said. When you smiled, his own widened. 

The brief moment of peace the two of you shared shattered as two bodies barrelled into the room, followed by another set of thundering footsteps behind them. 

“YAH! Choi Jongho, I know this was all your idea!” Wooyoung appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, drenched from head to toe with dark and damp bangs hanging in his seething eyes. A puddle was beginning to form beneath him as he glared at the two giggling imps cowering behind the opposite end of the counter. 

You and Seonghwa connected gazes across the chaos. Good grief. 

From behind Wooyoung's calf, another creature poked her head out to hiss at the perpetrators. Wooyoung's cat familiar looked akin to a wet rat, the poor thing. 

“Seonghwa hyung, do something!”

Seonghwa's eyes drifted over to Jongho and Yeosang, who flashed him a pair of sheepish smiles. “Aye… both of you. Now.”

“We didn't get water on San,” was what Yeosang offered with a shrug. 

That seemed to not be the answer Wooyoung was looking for. If the witch was a dragon instead, Seonghwa was sure he would be blowing steam out of his ears. “Are you kidding me? I am going to hex you so badly, you will never know a day of peac—”

Jongho suddenly yelped, startling everyone as he leaped a couple feet in the air and ran to crouch beside you at the breakfast table. 

“What, what? What is it?” 

Yeosang's eyes had widened to the size of globes, too, as he scurried backward to the edge of the cavern. His stare was still pinned to something on the other side of the counter. 

Seonghwa peered over the ledge and swore sharply. “That is the biggest fucking bug I have ever seen in my life,” he said with his hand pressed to his face, stressed. 

Wooyoung had magically disappeared, and his cat had retreated alongside him. If even the cat didn't want anything to do with the big hunk of insect—

“AH-AH! HYUNG, IT'S MOVING!” Jongho screeched and grabbed the back of your chair to hide behind you. 

Seonghwa paused at that action, but snapped out of it when he saw the legs peek out from around the corner. “Can someone get Yunho?”

“Ohhhhh, I'm too young to die,” the youngest whispered toward the ceiling, his face contorted in fear and anguish; it was a rare thing to see from Jongho. “Yn, please, flame its ass or something!”

You sputtered, curling your feet up onto your chair with you in case the bug came scuttling toward the table. “Uh no. Yunho would literally flame me if I did!”

“Screw what he thinks. He's not here right now.”

Seonghwa clambered up onto the counter and peered over the edge again. He slapped a hand over his mouth after seeing the bug for another time. “Okay,” he said carefully, “on the count of three, we're all going to run for the edge and jump into the lake.”

Three nods from around the room. 

“One…” Everyone shifted an inch toward the cave opening. “Two…”

The fuckass bug moved. 

The countdown was abandoned—Jongho ran for the opening and tackled Yeosang into the water. Seonghwa leaped over the remainder of the countertop in time to swan dive into the lake beside you. His body sliced into the water like a hot knife through butter, and the lake's cool temperatures engulfed him in a refreshing embrace. 

Your head popped up right beside him and you shot him a laughing grin. “Well, that's definitely one way to start off the day.”

He laughed alongside you, slicking his wet hair back and out of his face. “I mean, we were gonna end up in the water at some point,” he mused. 

“True.” Your eyes zeroed in on something just below his jawline. You swam a little closer, and Seonghwa's heart catapulted into his throat. “You have a little, uhm, watercress…”

Your fingers brushed over his collarbone as you gently plucked the strand of watercress out from the links of the necklace sitting on his sternum. You lifted the plant up as if to say, 'Ta da,’ before pausing at your physical proximity. 

Seonghwa watched as a drop of water dripped down the middle of your face, down the slope of your nose, and slipped over your plush lips. Woah…

He had half the mind to reach out and thumb it away. 

“Two dragons, a fae prince, and a water mage couldn't handle a fucking roach?” 

You and Seonghwa jolted away from each other like similar poles of a magnet, heat rushing up to the surface of your skin. You both tilted your gazes up to the caves and saw Yunho appear at the mouth of the kitchen, a wide grin on his face as he held the bug up between his two fingers. 

“That sounds like a joke I've heard before,” San laughed as he walked up next to Yunho. He waved down at the lot of you in the water, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. 

Wooyoung peered out from behind San. “Instant karma!” He hollered. 

“Come down here, and we can talk about instant karma,” Jongho threw right back up at him. He flicked his wrist and sent a jet of lake water up to the cave mouth, hitting Wooyoung square between the eyes with scary accuracy. 

San howled in laughter as his friend hissed from the friendly fire. 

Seonghwa loosened a warm chuckle before turning toward you—wait. Where did you go? He twirled around in the water, eyes scanning the lake for where you'd gone. 

“Hwa!” You were by the far shore, raising your hand up to wave him over. 

He didn't hesitate to swim over toward you. The two of you swam over to the furthest edge of the lake, far from the others. The morning sun had not yet crested high enough to penetrate through the trees here, and that left you both in a patch of dreamy shade where long leaves dripped into the water like Mother Nature's curtains. 

Seonghwa clambered out onto the bank and yanked the hem of his shirt up and over his head. The material had stuck to his skin like glue, and he was a lot more comfortable without it on. 

Behind him though, he swore he heard your breath hitch. 

The corner of his lips curled upward in satisfaction. He continued to feign ignorance as he wrung his wet shirt out, arm muscles flexing as the water trickled out of the fabric. “You coming up, love?” He asked casually, peering over his shoulder at you lingering in the water. 

You cleared your throat as you pulled yourself onto land. “Y-yeah,” you said, covering your stammer with a breathy laugh. 

“Cold?” He teased, finally turning his body to face you in full. 

You passed him an expression of playful exasperation. “Freezing,” you jested back. It was difficult for dragon shifters to be cold; the amount of heat either of you generated on your own was enough to keep you warm all the time. After all, you did spew fire from your mouth on occasion. 

Seonghwa whipped his shirt out in front of him and blew a breath of steam through it. The fabric dried up fast, but instead of putting it back on, he slung it over his shoulder. 

An idea plunked itself into the forefront of his mind. “Shall we hunt?” He asked and extended a hand out to you. 

He saw the flicker of blue-purple in your irises—like lightning—as you brushed a lock of hair from your eyes. You took his hand, your fingers and palms slotting together like matching clasps of a chain. “We shall.”

Seonghwa sat at the vanity table in his and Hongjoong's room. The world beyond the mouth of this cavern was a dark sapphire, embroidered with small diamonds in its fabric—the night sky and its stars. The muffled rush of the waterfall nearby played in the background as he sifted through his traveler's chest of jewelry and gemstones. Hongjoong had half fallen asleep in the hot spring somewhere behind him, so Seonghwa was taking this time to pick out what he wanted to wear to… tomorrow…

His hand movements stilled as something caught his eyes in the chest of shiny stones. He held his breath, carefully withdrawing a silver chain out by its amethyst stone. There was no question about what it was and that it didn't belong to him. 

Your fragrance still lingered on the metal, though cool from being away from your body heat for a while. 

Seonghwa breathed out loudly through his nose as he stared at the article in his palm. 

He could hear Hongjoong emerging from the hot spring pool. “Something wrong, Hwa?”

“Did you” — Seonghwa's brows furrowed and he twisted around on the vanity stool — “steal her anklet?”

Hongjoong frowned, wrapping a towel around his waist before coming to stand beside his friend. He peered down at the article, reaching out to touch the anklet. 

Seonghwa moved his hand away and his chest rumbled with a low growl. 

A soft huff of amusement fell from Hongjoong's lips, and he settled his hand on Seonghwa's shoulder instead. “No, I wouldn't dare. I don't want to face a dragon's wrath for stealing from their hoard, thank you very much.”

“Hmph.” Seonghwa considered the article in his palm once more. If Hongjoong wasn't pulling his leg, then the logical answer was that you put your anklet in his jewelry chest. But why would you do that, and when did you? He would have smelled your scent lingering in this room if you had, and he couldn't pick up on any of his friends’ scents either. 

A flower of hope blossomed in his chest as he thought about the implications of this gesture further. Maybe it didn't matter how it got here, only what you thought about it being here in his possession.

“It's a sign,” Hongjoong giggled, squeezing his shoulder. He trudged away to go find his sweatpants to sleep in. “Your move, Park!”

Seonghwa slowly wrapped his fingers around the chain, a small smile flitting onto his face. In the mirror, his cheekbones burned the color of the rubies in his jewelry case. 

His move, indeed. 

In the morning, Seonghwa rose before day broke the dawn. 

It had come to him like a strike of lightning last night as he laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, weighing the option of wearing your anklet like a lovesick fool or returning it to you in the morning. What he'd remembered, instead, was something you told him about your clan's traditions. 

While his family held a lot more emphasis on adornment for mating traditions, your family clan put more importance on the act of making a meal for a potential partner. Consuming said meal was an acceptance of courtship and love. 

As he hunched over the kitchen countertop pouring over a recipe on his phone, he marinated on how to go about this. Presenting you with breakfast—that he only made for you, might he add—was not a subtle move in the slightest. Perhaps slipping your anklet into his things could be interpreted a couple ways, but it wasn't a glaring neon sign like this gesture was going to be. 

Nonetheless, Seonghwa got to work. He was counting on his friends to stay the fuck asleep. 

About an hour later, he was just finishing up when he picked up on the sound of your bare feet padding across the hallway toward the kitchen. Your perfume followed next, carrying into the room on an invisible breeze. Seonghwa drummed his fingers against the countertop as you strolled into the room, eyes wide and bright when you saw him there with food made. 

“Well, something smells yummy,” you said warmly. “Should I go wake the others?”

“No!” He laughed nervously, breaking into a bashful smile. “No need. This—this is just for you. I mean, I made breakfast for you.”

Your eyes seemed to grow even wider. “Break—breakfast for me? Just me?”

He nodded and wrung his hands in front of his body. “Just you… if that's okay.”

“Of course, that's okay. More than okay, really,” you murmured, eyes turning shy. The implications were too blatant not to miss or deny. 

Seonghwa gestured for you to take a seat at the breakfast table and presented you with the hot and fresh plate of breakfast he'd just made. He claimed the seat across from you with his own plate, but didn't touch it yet. His nerves made his hands shake beneath the table as he watched you take your utensil and fork a bite into your mouth. 

Something warm burst in his chest as you swallowed, then took another bite. 

“It's really good,” you said to him between bites. Your mouth was pursed into a wide smile, a tenderness swimming in your gemstone irises. “I think though,” you murmured after swallowing, “that we need to talk.”

Seonghwa's stomach tightened, but he nodded. “Agreed. I, uhm, I found this in my jewelry case last night.” He pulled out the strand of silver and amethyst from his pocket. The metal and jewel glistened in the soft morning sunlight pouring into the open cavern. 

“Oh, you didn't wear it?”

He went doe-eyed. “I wanted to—I just wanted to be clear about intentions first, just because if I wore this…” He stammered, “Then you'd be mine and I'd be yours.” 

The wording of it made your pulse skip, but it was exactly what you wanted. All of this stumbling around each other, falling over yourselves, was for this purpose. 

“Is that right, love?”

You nodded, as the two of you shared a smile in the glow of early morning. “That's right.”

He would be yours, and you would be his. 

Breakfast was dined upon in peace with quiet murmurings exchanged between the two of you, accompanied by light laughter and loving gazes. It was a marvel none of it was interrupted by the other occupants of the lakeside getaway. 

There was another thing that had to be done in order to seal the deal, however. 

When breakfast was finished and cleaned up after, Seonghwa barged back into his and Hongjoong's shared bedroom. His demon best friend was nowhere to be found, but it was no matter. Seonghwa went over to the vanity table and carefully picked up the necklace he had laid out last night. It was white gold studded in fat, glistening rubies—his prized possession, and one of the few pieces he had saved for only his future partner to wear.

That giddy excitement curled in his stomach again as he took the necklace with him up to your bedroom on the second floor. You were there waiting for him, your foot braced on the vanity stool to fix his sapphire chain onto your ankle, as your amethyst one laid around his. 

“This,” he murmured as he came up behind you in the mirror, “I've been saving for someone special.” He locked eyes with you in the looking glass, a sweet smile playing on his lips as he draped the heavy gems over your sternum. 

Blood rubies were precious and harder to come by these days, which was why Seonghwa coveted them. It only made sense that they should rest now on a person he would also come to value even more. They sat perfectly upon your collarbones, like a tiara upon your head… like it was made for you. You were yourself a treasure. 

Seonghwa could hardly contain his contentment at the sight. He wrapped his arms around your middle as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, smiling against your skin. “Perfect.”

a/n: don't forget to reblog + comment if u enjoyed!

atz m.list

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[pippin-katz]

How Long Did It Take For Charles To Find Edwin In Hell?

I did warn you people that you'd start seeing my name in this tag a lot, so hello again! I'm having more thoughts! Something that has been poking me in the back of my mind is the shift in Edwin's behavior in Hell.

First, we see him running around in a state of obvious distress. He's panicked, and he doesn't seem to know where he's going, or rather can't remember the layout (that's why he wrote it down in first place).

He is running though, and manages to find the room Simon is in to briefly hide from the monster. He's not okay, but he's definitely trying.

Then Edwin talks to Simon, and he tells him with confidence that he is going to escape Hell again, asking him to come with him.

The important part is that Edwin literally says, "I'm going to get out of here again." He says it like he believes it. He's determined, even if he's still terrified. He's going to keep trying, and must feel pretty confident in his willpower to invite Simon to come with him. It would be a death sentence to take Simon just for him to give up. Edwin wouldn't do that to him, so he must really believe that he's going to get out somehow. He asks him twice to come with him.

Edwin, despite claiming to not be good with people, is actually incredibly compassionate. This is the boy who got him killed as a teenager and sentenced to 70 years in Hell all because he wanted to prank him. Someone hurting you on accident doesn't erase the pain they caused; like Jenny, who acknowledges that there was no way for Niko to know that Maxine was violent and deranged, but still can't forgive her yet. Edwin gets angry for all of a few minutes, then immediately catches himself while talking to Despair. He not only calms down from his anger, he tries to defend Simon to Despair; when she sends him back, he's in the middle of saying "he didn't realize-"

The fact that Edwin is that quick to forgive Simon, even before he learned he fancied him, shows incredible empathy. He's not going to drag Simon through the Dollhouse unless he's absolutely sure he can, eventually, get them out.

So Edwin is determined and motivated to escape again. At least, that's how he acts here.

The very next time we see him is when Charles finds him. All of that determination, confidence, willpower, or whatever motivates him to try and escape is completely gone.

Edwin is sitting completely out in the open in the hallway, at intersection that has three different directions things can come from. Hell, there's light falling through the roof on him like a spotlight. He's curled up and crying.

Could he be any easier for the demon to kill right now? Hell, the Spider snatches him up effortlessly a few moments later to prove the point.

Why was he curled up, out in the open, crying? He has to know without a doubt that it'll get him caught and killed easily. The only thing he could do to make this worse would be to start screaming loudly so it locate him even faster.

The only reason he would be doing that would be if he'd given up on escaping. And that's then confirmed when Charles finds him in the cell. Despite being confident enough in his ability to escape that he invited Simon, he's now completely lost all hope entirely, even with Charles' presence. It takes Charles basically forcing him into action with the bomb he rolls at the Spider for him to move from being curled up into a ball in the corner.

How did Edwin go from having enough confidence in his ability to escape again to invite Simon, to completely hopeless, in what appears to us like a few hours?

Edwin is stubborn as fuck, and went through this shit for 70+ years. I find it a bit difficult to believe that he would go from being that determined to utterly defeated in a couple hours; this made me think of a common headcannon/theory/interpretation of time in Hell moving differently.

We get very little of Hell when you take a step back. There's a large map of Hell in the Lost & Found Department, the same as the one Charles shows the others when he's explains Edwin wrote about his experience. The Night Nurse says there are "entire worlds" in Hell.

I actually already intended to bring this up at some point, but Edwin tells Charles: "I spent 70 years, in the worst place, with worst people."

We don't see anyone else in the Dollhouse; Simon is in an attached room, but Edwin clearly didn't find it the first time. There's people in the Lust and Gluttony rooms, as well as Limbo, but it's not like Edwin could've talked to them to find out why they were sent to Hell. We can see that it's possible that people who don't fully deserve to be there can end up there. Simon was there for sacrificing Edwin, but we see he has immense amounts of guilt and did it on accident. After talking to Edwin, the blue light appears, so it seems that people can be redeemed/find salvation. We also know that Edwin was passed around to three demons. Sa'al, the first one, a demon in the middle, and the Spider.

So, my curiosity lies in how and where in Hell Edwin ended up interacting with "bad guys who do not worry about being bad guys". It's definitely not in the Dollhouse.

Back to the main point, we know very little about Hell, so the concept of time passing differently is definitely possible. Seeing the massive swift in Edwin's behavior/emotional state, I think it's worth thinking about.

Maybe it's similar to the Cat King's room, but in reverse, where one minute stretches into one hour in Hell. Maybe it depends on where you are. The 70 year time period that Edwin says he experienced lines up with the years in the mortal plane, so maybe it doesn't. Maybe I'm just assuming too much of Edwin's personality. I don't know, just thought I'd throw the thought out there! 🙃

(ko-fi)

[majinbangus]

Gonna sound weird but can you do something where after soap gets shot him and the reader meet up again during that and the reader sees his arm wound and licks at the blood. She doesn’t have to be a vampire but she just happens to be a little weird.

doesn't sound weird, nonnie, i like this a lot! i actually had a similar thought here (our brains must be on the same wavelength ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)) and another one where soap licked up reader's blood here

》 18+

He's not a medic, but he's pretty sure—given common sense and his basic first aid training—that wounds are typically cleaned with an antiseptic of some kind. So to say he is a little caught off guard to your unique approach is an understatement. In all his experiences with wounds and getting them treated, never has he experienced a more unorthodox method of cleaning them.

"Uh, lass?" His voice is unintentionally raspy, Scottish brogue a little bit thicker, but he can't help it. Not with you doing what you're doing. Soap doesn't blink as he stares at you, swallowing thickly. The muscles in his bicep spasm, but it has nothing to due with the bullet wound he suffered from. He's barely aware of it. "What're y'doin'?"

You don't answer him right away, too focused on your task, eyes closed and cold fingers holding his warm forearm to keep him still. The caress of your tongue, wet and warm, dragging against his skin and lapping up rivulets of blood is something he never knew he needed to feel. He can't look away from the intense concentration on your face, unaffected by the taste of iron, nose not even crinkling in disgust. He feels a little twitch in his pants.

When you pull away, the look on your face doesn't help the sudden tightness pressing against his zipper. You look beautiful. Chin and lips smeared lightly with his blood, you appear almost drunk, the adorable drowsy blink doing nothing but enhancing your intoxicated appearance.

"Sorry." You swipe your thumb across your bottom lip and suck it into your mouth to lick it clean. "I know we gotta meet up with Ghost soon, but that looks like it hurts. Hope you don't mind I cleaned it a little; I know it's still kinda messy, but I don't have anything to wipe it with."

"It's okay," He croaks weakly, doing his damnedest to ignore the raging hard on in his pants. "I don't even feel it."

"You sure?" You squint at him as if you don't believe it, but it's true.

He's too high strung on the phantom feeling of your tongue on his skin. On the near blissed-out look you had after tasting him. He wonders if that's how you look when you—

Soap clears his throat and gives you a tight smile, resisting the urge to adjust himself and firmly keeps both hands planted at his side as he stares at the blood still smudged on your face, imagining a more milky white color to the fluid. "I'm sure."

[scekrex]

Okay, okay, okay, ANOTHA ONE. Winner!reader who got lost in Heaven on his first, because Adam forgot that he was supposed to give him a tour and simply kept walking while Reader got distracted and went after something shiny that he thought would look nice on Adam. Now cue in Brandon Rogers skit with a "mother" looking for her son Timmy. Just Adam running around and screaming "Y/N!!!!" and asking around, cause he's totally shitting himself. He lost a soul IN HEAVEN of all places. After some time he sits down on a bench in a park or something, completely exhausted and distressed, when suddenly the reader appears behind him, placing a shiny little tiara between his mask horns saying: "✨👸🌺You're a fucking pretty princess!🌺👸✨" while holding ice cream in the other hand and Adam just looks at him like:

You can end it however you want, cause honestly you're gonna nail it either way 💁🏻‍♂️

Babes, I fucking love you for that request. I feel like I'll write so many crack fics for Adam n Reader just bc of you and I'm fucking ready for it

Lost and Found

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, this is a crack fic (kinda)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

When you had first appeared in Sera's office you had been confused and overwhelmed, the little girl, her name was Emily, was full of energy that you weren't able to deal with at that point. She had been all in your face and while you were aware that it was all good intentions, it made you feel like stumbling right into a panic attack.

So Sera had made a call with some guy named Adam, she hadn't explained who he was and why she called him and not someone else but once Adam had arrived at Sara's office, you understood. The guy was a lot more chill than Emily, sure he could talk a lot - that was the first thing he had proven once he had entered the office - but he wasn't draining you by doing so. He wasn't all up in your face either and you appreciated that a lot.

So once you two had introduced yourself to each other, the two of you took off.

The streets weren't as full and crowded as you had expected them to be. Heaven was painted in bright colors, pastel blue, white and gold were the most common colors you came across. Adam was currently rambling about some chick that he had fucked a couple weeks ago at one of his gigs, you weren't really paying attention though, you were too focused on all the shiny lights that surrounded you.

So your attention was on many things, on everything but Adam, the person you probably should've focused the most on considering that you had no clue where exactly in heaven you two were. And when the two of you walked past a jewelry store you couldn't help but walk right through the door. In your mind you thought Adam would notice and follow you - or wait outside the store.

Well, Adam didn't even notice you were gone at first, he was too caught up in his storytelling. So he continued to walk through the streets of heaven for a good twenty minutes without you. That was until the man stopped to look at you - or at least that was why he turned around. But you weren't there.

Fuck.

For how long had he been walking alone? Where were you and why weren't you following him anymore? A wave of panic hit him. What if Sera would find you all alone without him in sight? He'd be in so much trouble if that were to happen.

So he walked in the direction he came from, checking every back alley he had walked past but he couldn't find you. “Y/N?” he called out for you as he entered yet another back alley, hoping he'd get a response. He tried to remain as calm as possible, that wasn't easy considering that he had just lost a fucking soul in heaven. Oh he was so fucked if he weren't to find you by sunset. He was so fucked if Sera were to find out.

Another wave of panic shot through his body as he rushed out of the alley. He grabbed an angel who just went about his day by his shoulders, shook him slightly as his voice filled with panic got louder and louder, “Have you seen my-” Adam stopped for a moment. His what? You weren't his. Ah, fuck this, “Have you seen the dude I'm supposed to watch? He's about this tall,” he raised his hand to show the angel - who was slightly frightened by Adam's behavior - how tall you were, “clearly gay and has a thing for me, but we haven't had the talk yet.” The second the angel started to shake his head Adam was gone, calling out your name over and over again.

“You fucking little shithead, get your sexy ass over here,” Adam yelled, earning himself a few strange looks from bypassing angels, he couldn't care less though. A panicking expression was visible on his mask as he continued to walk all the way back to where you and him had come from. He opened a door to one of the countless stores you two had passed, “Y/N are you in there? You better get the fuck out if you are!” The customers inside the store looked at Adam in confusion and disgust for yelling so loud. He slammed the door shut and crossed the street to enter a park, maybe you had seen some kind of animal or whatever bullshit it was a soul like you were interested in.

“C��mon you little bitch, I'll let you fucking do drugs if you move your ass over here right now,” that was a total lie, obviously it was, but Adam was trying to get you back and he really had no idea how to do it properly.

Another angel walked up to him, she seemed slightly worried about the situation that was playing out, “Have you tried retracing the steps?” Adam shoved her out of the way, “Fuck, you think I'm stupid? Of course I have!” The lady who just had wanted to help flinched away from the first man and was quick to take off once his attention had shifted away from her.

He rushed through the entire park, even looked at the entire thing from above in hope he would be able to spot you, but nothing. Once his feet were back on the ground he broke down on a park bench, his hands were covering the LED face that was displayed on his mask and he was done with it, there was no way he'd find you before sunset - which was when Sera was expecting the both of you to return.

He was completely fucked, there was no way he'd be able to explain to Sera what had happened. And even worse: what if you got hurt? Shit, he didn't even know why he cared about that, you were just some random soul he had met a couple hours ago but yet there he was, worrying about your fucking ass.

Adam flinched when he heard the sound of metal clicking against his mask and turned his head around. There you were. A soft smile was curled around your lips and you held a cone of ice cream in your hand as if nothing had happened, “Y’know,” you started to speak up and pointed to the thing that was resting on top of his mask now, “For someone who talks about ‘fucking bitches’ a lot you're a fucking pretty princess.”

Adam reached for the object you had placed on his head and looked at it closely. It was a fucking golden tiara. It had tiny purple gemstones attached to it and it surprisingly fit his aesthetic pretty well. He stared at the shiny accessory for a moment before he put it down on the bench, got up and lifted you over the bench he had been sitting on. Before you knew it your ice cream cone landed on the ground and Adam pulled you into a bone crushing hug, your feet still dangling in the air, you simply decided to wrap them around his waist. The taller man didn't seem to mind it all that much.

“Don’t you fucking dare to ever run off again you little shithead,” he whispered as he held you, the face of his mask was pressed flush against your neck. “And I thought I was the one having a thing for you when clearly it's not one sided,” you teased the first man, your hand playfully grabbing his horns and pulling him away from your neck to look at him. “You heard that?” he asked in a mix of anger and embarrassment. “Yeah,” you shrugged, “Next time when you're looking out for me, do better.” Adam couldn't help but simply stare at you in pure disbelief. There was simply no fucking way he had missed you. “Also,” you looked down on the ground where your ice cream cone was melting, “You owe me ice cream, idiot.”

“I swear I'll fucking get you a shirt that says 'If lost, return to Adam' or some shit in case that ever happens again,” Adam mumbled and even though he sounded slightly annoyed, he seemed pretty happy you were back. “Oh, it will happen again, trust me,” you simply grinned.

[petrichor-idyllic]

Heyyy do you do reacts? Like "How the TMR boys would react to you calling them pretty" . If so, thank youuu :)

Oooo I never even thought about doing this, but I can absolutely give it a go :))

YOU THINK I'M PRETTY?

MASTERLIST | MULTI-CHARACTER MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Gender neutral reader.

WARNINGS: None really, maybe some inappropriate language and flirty behaviour.

"You know, you're actually kinda pretty."

THOMAS

Would not know how to react.

Thomas absolutely would be completely dumbfounded.

He'd been attracted to you ever since he'd arrived in the Glade, so you complimenting him would leave him in a stunned state.

Probably would also be the first and only time he gets complimented because the Gladers just call each other ugly on a daily basis.

"Oh, uh- thanks- thank you."

You probably wouldn't think much of it and go about your day.

He would spend the next four years thinking about it.

"They think I'm pretty."

Definitely a much needed confidence boost since he (especially in the books) is having a permanent identity crisis.

He might not know who he is, but damn, at least he's pretty.

NEWT

Newt isn't a stranger to compliments. He's one of the oldest standing Gladers and people often comment on his work ethic and ability to think fast.

His appearance though?

That's new.

He'd probably freeze, laughing it off as you just kinda randomly say it whilst he's working with the Track-hoes.

"Heh, what?"

In all honesty, you'd have been watching him for a while, admiring his features and when you say it, it would have been a thought you didn't mean to say out loud more than anything.

That wouldn't stop him from thinking about it. It would get brushed over fairly quickly since Newt is a busy dude, but he would definitely ask Minho and his friends about it.

"What do you think it means?

"Uh, that they think you're pretty? Duh."

Like Thomas, he would probably lie awake thinking about it, or just throughout his day, a soft smile playing on his lips, and he would definitely get caught laughing.

"Dude, you're thinking about it again?"

"Shut up, slinthead!"

"Touched a nerve, pretty boy?"

MINHO

Minho knows he's pretty. Everyone knows he's pretty. Just look at the guy. Even Thomas thinks he's pretty (*cough* the three paragraphs dedicated to describing Minho's arms in the book *cough*).

He'd probably laugh.

Sure, it's common knowledge that he's a good looking guy, but for someone to say it to him?

That'd be entertaining.

He'd tease you about it, making you the one that becomes a blushing mess.

"Hey, so how pretty do you think I am, exactly?"

He would not let it go.

But he wouldn't brag to the other Gladers about it. He would keep the information to himself, mainly keeping up the light bullying in private and leaving other Gladers confused as to why you tended to leave his presence bright red.

Secretly, he'd be thrilled. Of course, just that you think he's attractive to begin with, but also because it clearly runs deeper at your constant embarrassment.

He probably also wouldn't know how else to flirt with you. But he's trying his best. Compliments don't come as easy to him as they do you, so this is how he expresses it.

Definitely an ego boost.

GALLY

He would be insulted.

Gally wouldn't take it as a compliment at first. He wants to be a tough guy and you calling him pretty feels like a insult to his masculinity.

Definitely not the intention.

You think he's soft? Pretty? How dare you. How could you?

It wouldn't be until he spoke to Frypan that he'd realise.

"They called me pretty. Pretty! Do I look like a shuckin' sissy?"

"Dude, I'm pretty sure it was a compliment- they think you're hot."

"Oh."

That's when he'd be flustered.

In private, of course, but flustered nonetheless.

He'd feel like such a dick for reacting how he did and without even processing it properly.

He'd end up apologising and you'd laugh about it.

"It's okay, I won't call you pretty again. Promise."

But now he knows you think he's attractive, he'd definitely be bummed that you said you wouldn't compliment him like that again.

"I mean- you can still... yanno- say that."

Turns out Gally actually kinda is a softie when he wants to be.

You find it cute.

FRYPAN

He would be ecstatic.

Oh my God, you think he's pretty? His life is complete. The world is good. Kill him now, this is the best day of his life.

He'd tell everyone who would listen.

"Yeah! They called me pretty! Suck it! I'm prettier than you slintheads!"

"Fry, I really don't care."

He'd constantly ask you to call him pretty again. Or even other compliments and you'd find it funny.

He'd be surprising hard to fluster, but very easy to please.

It wouldn't be uncommon to find him grinning from ear to ear after talking to you.

He would also have the courage to return the compliments, creating a friendship that's basically filled with constant praise.

He would worship the ground you walk on.

Thinks he's in love every time you make eye contact.

ALBY

"Yeah, okay."

Alby would not give a shit.

The man is stressed 24/7.

You can't really blame him. He's in charge of a bunch of teenage boys in a Maze full of monsters, and he has to make sure that everyone is comfortable and surviving.

He has too much on his plate to even realise what you'd be saying at first.

The brain lag is real, and it would be three days later when he'd understand what you said.

"Wait a shuckin' second..."

After that, he'd think about it a lot, internally kicking himself and regretting the choice.

You wouldn't be shocked. This is exactly the kind of response you'd expect from the Leader. But you almost said it because you knew what his response would be.

You wouldn't have to worry about Alby being weird or acting different or telling anyone.

Though, he would become a lot friendlier towards you, starting to develop a sweet spot for you.

Would ya look at that, I can actually write for characters other than Minho? Who woulda guessed? In all seriousness, this was really fun and I enjoy writing headcanons as much as I like writing stories. I really enjoy these typa requests, tysm for sending it in.

Hope you all enjoy :))

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can I request one where Lampert and reader were friends with Kasper aka infected before he got well infected, basically the reader kept hanging out with infected and ended up getting infected too and they end up going to Lampert because they are still them atleast for a bit. angst definitely but you could make it have a fluffy ending

"I put more tape on those posters, Kasper. I'm sure Poptart will turn up soon."

"Thanks for doing that, bro. But...who's that?"

"Huh? Poptart is-"

"No, "Kasper". Isn't he like...the friendly ghost or somethin'?"

"Um..last I checked that was your name."

"Nah I'm pretty sure it's Infected." Kasper, or rather "Infected" as he apparently started calling himself, just shook his head before turning back his computer. He was in the midst of a gaming session, the round beginning as he tried staying focused.

You, on the other hand, just sat on the beanbag chair in his room, confused as all hell.

Ever since he caught that weird virus and brought it back to the apartment...it seemed to be getting worse. It began as a common sinus infection that made him lethargic, with half the stuff he was saying nearly indiscernible. He denied being sick enough to warrant a doctor visit, though, and figured it'll eventually pass.

And as his neighbor and best friend, you thought that giving him space was the best thing to do until he felt better.

At some point, you noticed a gradient creature with an unpleasant color scheme wandering in the dark alleys and down the hallway. It never spoke a word, making you wonder why it was here or if Kasper's illness had something to do with its appearance, but not even he was sure about it.

Then Poptart, his beloved cat, went missing a few days later. He knocked on your door crying and panicking the following morning, clearly scared out of his mind as he woke up to find its food bowl untouched.

That led you both to believe someone kidnapped the poor thing, so together you put up missing posters around the apartment complex, hoping somebody knew their whereabouts. Kasper had his suspicions that the gradient might've had been involved, but as off-putting as it seemed...you couldn't accuse it of anything without solid proof.

Last time you saw Unpleasant, it went onto the elevator, so god only knows what floor it could be on now.

Until it came back, you decided to stay with Kasper and look for Poptart, making sure nobody tore down the posters.

At the current moment, however, as you watched him game, you were a bit grossed out to see the pink snot dribbling from his nose--but when he raised his arm to rub it on his sleeve, you saw something even more alarming:

Pink-checkered textures covering part of his skin, briefly glitching before they vanished.

You got up from your seat and approached him, tapping his shoulder. "Kasper? I saw something weir-"

"I need to focus--oh no, no, no, N0!! My str34k!!"

You froze for a moment, concerned by the stark change in his voice--as though it was ran through a bitcrusher--before frowning as you saw him staring at his screen now, shoulders slumped at the "Defeat" message displayed across it.

"Awh man..." He whined, now sounding somewhat normal.

"Sorry, but..I just wanna be sure you're okay. At least keep a tissue handy, my guy. You're getting it all over your setup." Your eyes surveyed his desk for anything that could be a good tissue substitute--besides magazines.

"I told you, bruh, I feel fi...ah...ahhhCHOO!!" Kasper turned to sneeze directly onto the floor, where a few tiles began flickering pink...before you saw that same checkered texture from before.

But your gamer friend, totally unaware, just turned to stare you with a biggest grin on his face. "See? My sinuses are clear now!"

Then he sniffled again, sulking as his nose betrayed him.

"Look, this virus is turning into something bigger. It's gone beyond a small sinus infection." You huffed. "A virus wouldn't make you forget your own name. A virus wouldn't turn your carpet into that." Pointing to the glitchy texture that showed up, you made sure he was looking at it.

He blinked. "I did that?"

"You need a doctor, Kasper. And I will drag you to one if I have t-"

"For the gazillionth time, that's not my name!!" He suddenly snapped, punching the desk with anger you've never seen before. "It's "Infected"! How have we been friends this long if you can't even remember my ####### n4m3?! $w34r 1'll b4n u fr0m my lif3 if y0u d0n't st0p!"

You stared at him in shock, taking a step back as you saw his fist nearly glitch through the desk.

What was happening to him?

Did the virus force him to call himself "Infected"? Was it making him refuse to accept any help?

You had no idea, and it was scaring you.

"...s0rry.."

"It's..fine-"

"N0. It isn't.." His shoulders slumped again and he looked down at his hands, wondering what was wrong with him. "I...I didn't m34n t0 3xpl0d3 0n y0u. I..I just..."

Then he trailed off, staying unusually silence for several long moments.

That gave you an idea. You had to test something.

"Hey, just amuse me for a second...do you remember this guy?"

Infected raised his head, watching you pick up the picture frame that sat beside his computer. It was photo of him and Lampert--the living lamp robot you two met at ROKEA years ago.

Ever since the day he came to life, you three were the best of friends, always hanging out on each other's floors, trading stuff, making friendship bracelets, and playing games. You and Kasper were the ones to introduce Lampert to all the cool things the world had to offer..and inadvertently turned him into a bit of a germaphobe once he discovered things like sickness.

Still, you three did everything together. The day you took that picture was most memorable--especially the embarrassment of realizing the arrows on their shirts were facing opposite directions, which you only realized after the photo was developed and printed.

Oh, well.

Then after Kasper got sick, Lampert's been keeping his distance, and oftentimes things became tense in the elevator when the former didn't cover his mouth when sneezing or coughing.

But now that his infection was worsening, you weren't sure if the lamp would wanna see him anymore.

Or even...if he recognized the person in the photo at all.

You could tell by the way he took it from your hands and stared at it for some time, eyebrows furrowed with confusion, that he was starting to lose his memory.

"This l4mp dude..I think..I've s33n him on th4t elev4t0r.."

"We've known him for years, Kas. You and I..pretty much brought him to life." You frowned, worried that he was starting to forget him..

How long will it be before he forgot you, too?

"Don't tell me, after everything we've done together, you're forgetting about him--about us."

"I..I...I w4nn4 r3m3mb3r..but..." His hands began trembling, which you were oblivious to as your frustration began to rise once more.

"But nothing. You have to try. Forget your infection and think to when we last saw him. Where were we going?"

"..I don't...kn0w..."

"Yes you do. Who was in the elevator with us besides us three?"

"I h4v3 n0 id34..st0p it.." His voice shook.

"Kasper. You need to-"

"ST0P S4Y1NG TH4T N4M3!! Y0U'R3 N0T H3LPING!!" He shouted, and in that same moment the frame glitched, becoming covered in checkered textures. It felt like a sharp pain that pierced his hands, causing him to yelp and drop it to the floor, where it turned back to normal after it cracked.

You scrambled to pick it up without thinking, afraid he'd cut himself if he tried getting it, only to turn it over and discover that the photo inside was now ruined.

Kasper's face had been ripped out, as though the virus was trying its hardest to erase him and make him believe he had this random picture of some guy and a lamp robot for no reason...

'It's destroying everything he touches..'

Then your attention went to your fingers, which have turned pink. You gasped and quickly put the frame down, staring at your hand in horror.

It was already spreading to your wrist.

"W04h! A-Are y0u 0k4y??" Infected jumped out of his chair on instinct, unsure of what to do but wanting to help in some way.

But the moment he reached for you, you stepped away, clutching your wrist and scowling deeply at him. "Stay back! Now you got me infected, too, you jerk!"

"......I....I-I didn't m34n it.." His voice trembled, sounding more and more broken up as tears filled his vision. "I'm s0rry...I'm...s0 s0rry. I sw34r..I-I'm n0t d0ing it 0n purp0s3." Clutching his arm, he fidgeted with his sleeve, looking down at the ground in shame. "I'm sc4r3d, [y/n].."

Slowly, but surely, your gaze softened upon realizing how hurt he looked, and the fact that your insults weren't helping matters. You knew the risk to hanging around him when he was sick, so....how could you blame him?

Even he didn't know what was going on with him.

"I...I'm sorry for yelling. I know you didn't mean it. It's alright. We can see if Dr. Retro knows anything about this. She might have a cure or some medicine."

"......"

"Ka--Infected.."

He perked up, seeing you stepping closer. You knew there was no use in keeping distant from him now, since you caught the sickness, too.

With a small sigh, you patted his shoulder. "I'm not mad, okay? It's my fault for touching that picture frame. But I promise..we'll find a way to deal with this. I'll try to remember stuff for both of us...that is..if it doesn't also take my memor-"

He abruptly flung forward to wrap his arms around you, crushing you in a hug. Despite him sniffling like crazy (and feeling sweaty and gross), you returned it, letting his head fall against your shoulder.

He needed this.

You can't even remember the last time you two hugged, or did any of those cool handshakes he taught you.

"You know we'll have to tell Lampert, right?"

"Mhm.."

"...you want me to tell him?"

"Y34h.."

"Okay, next time the elevator comes, I'll hop on it." You patted his back, already sounding congested yourself, but you tried to ignore it.

Instead, you dread what you're gonna say to Lampert.

'He's gonna be pissed...'

...........

3008.

No, the Regretevator didn't have 3000 floors, but that's what Lampert's home floor was called anyways.

You weren't here to ponder why it was given that name, as the doors opened and you stepped out into a familiar place. A place you'd almost call a "second home".

Unfortunately, you were almost rudely pushed to the ground by some of the occupants--all who were rushing into the depths of ROKEA to find him.

Whoever made the rules apparently decided that should be the "objective" of this floor. But you knew where Lampert liked to hang out best, somewhere only you and Kasper would be able to find him.

So while the players scurried around like rats, racing against the clock, you headed straight to your friend, hoping you'll get to explain yourself without him freaking out.

As expected, you found him standing perfectly still among some lamps, switching his light off after realizing it was only you approaching. "Hi, [y/n]." He greeted with a small smile. "Any luck finding Poptart yet?"

"No." You shook your head, absentmindedly tugging on the glove that covered your arm. "Kas has been worried sick, but I put fresh tape on the posters..so...we'll see if that little kitty turns up."

"I hope so, too. Say..what's with the gloves and mask?"

"Oh these? Um-"

"Were you just cleaning up his apartment with those?" He asked, before sighing and shaking his head. "I hope you changed them. Otherwise they're just as unsanitary as-"

"No, no. I wasn't cleaning. I just...just..."

Your nose began to feel itchy.

Lampert just raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"I..just..ah...HI-CHOO!" Turning away immediately to cover your sneeze, you were grateful that this place didn't allow it to echo through the air...otherwise you would've easily given away your location.

But after hearing him gasp, you looked back to see him take a huge step away from you, scowling. "Y-You're sick?! Why did you come here?!"

"That's what I was getting to. I...I just wanted you to know that I....caught whatever Kasper had." You briefly removed your glove, revealing the pink that was now almost covering your entire forearm.

Least to say, he was mortified. "No..what do you mean you caught it?? I told you not to hang around him until he felt better!"

"I thought he was getting better..but he's not. It's worse than we realized."

"Well are you surprised?" He scoffed. "He refuses to see a doctor and doesn't seem to care if-"

"It's the virus itself, Lampert. It's taking over his mind."

"...what do you mean?"

"He can't even remember his own name. He got angry and told me to call him "Infected". And even worse? He's...forgetting about all the stuff we did together. He could barely even remember you."

"That's...impossible. An ordinary virus wouldn't give people amnesia!"

"That's what I said, too. But..this clearly isn't ordinary. I was gonna go visit Dr. Retro. If she catches this in the early stages, maybe she can figure out some cure for it. But..I-I just didn't know how fast it would spread. So..." You sighed. "..I wanted to see you first. Just in case I end up forgetting about you, too...which I hope doesn't happen."

"I...understand, but you really should've went to her first." He simply responded, still in utter distraught as he stared at you.

As though you were the disease itself.

Why did this have to happen to his two best friends?

Did some higher being just...hate him specifically? All because he's a little wary of germs?

"I'm gonna go there next." You nodded, making sure the mask was snug on your face, but in that same moment, you heard somebody shout that they found Lampert, and you huffed. "Well shit..guess you gotta come, too."

"As long as you keep your distance, that's fine. Nobody else got sick from you, right?"

As much as his question hurt a little, it was a reasonable one to ask. So you just shook your head. "No. I'll stay in my corner and you can stay in yours."

"Fair enough. I just hope it's not too cramped.."

Nodding, you both headed back towards the elevator, keeping a good amount of distance between yourselves.

There was a time where you would've been walking side-by-side with him and Kasper, sometimes linking arms and bumping shoulders (which even the lamp tolerated back then), and you hoped that maybe one day..you'll be able to go back to that.

For now, though, at least he was willing to share a lobby with you and talk about what's been going on at ROKEA just like old times.

So this virus didn't completely ruin your friendship yet...not that you planned on allowing that to happen.

No way.

You'll find a way to beat this.

You had to.

[five-rivers]

The next part of my Kingdom of Fish pollfic! Continued from here.

.

It wasn't the practice he'd been intending, but… “I'm fluent in Elysian Greek.”  That was the dialect Pandora's people used.  

“Oh, thank goodness,” said the attendant, handing him a pair of scrolls.  “People have been requesting these, and of course we don't get many people who know those dialects out this way, so…”

“Right,” said Danny.  “Where should I…?”

“Oh, right here!  But… oh dear, I'll need to find a booster seat…”

“I don't need one,” said Danny, quickly.  “I can just hover.”

Danny needed one. 

(But unlike what the attendant said, he didn't look absolutely adorable in it, nor was he perfectly precious when pouting.  He wasn't pouting at all!)

He unrolled the original scroll, weighing it down with the scroll weights on the table, then did the same to the blank scroll he was copying onto.  

“Are arrangements like this common?” asked Mom.  

“What arrangements?” murmured Danny, keeping his voice down.  

“Arrangements between groups of ghosts.  Between your library and this one.”

“The library network is a bit unusual,” said Danny.  The scroll appeared to be a transcription of the life story of an Eleusinian farmer.  “The Library of Tongues gets relatively good deals, too, since most libraries need translators at least some of the time.  But there are other groups that do similar things.  Like, alliances and stuff between Realms.  I think the Goblin Market started off that way.  And there are the universities.  Schools.  Museums, too, but I don’t mess with them.”

“Why not?” asked Dad.  “I’d think that they’d work closely with translators.”

“Well, yeah, but museums aren’t always very good about asking.  And a lot of them get overly interested in things that are one of a kind.”  Like Danny himself.  He trimmed the quill pen provided to him and dipped it in the inkwell.  He started writing.  

“Oh, avoiding them is probably a good idea.”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised, Mom,” said Danny.  “I have all sorts of good ideas.”  He wrote in relative silence for a while, pen scratching at the scroll.  

“What’s in that?” asked Dad.  

“The writing?  Record of someone’s life.  Not very long.”  He hummed and contemplated how to translate a complicated religious passage.  

“Where were they from?”

“And when?” added Mom.  

“Eleusis,” said Danny.  “And, hm, there’s not a date.  Usually stuff like this is pretty old, though.”

“Eleusis.  As in the Eleusinian Mysteries?”

“Yeah, I think so.  This doesn’t really say anything about them, but I’m sure there’s stuff in the library proper that does.  Why?”

Mom sighed.  “Sometimes, finding things in the Ghost Zone, it’s a bit like time travel without the time travel.  It’s a window into history.”

Danny frowned slightly.  It was history, and books were always a bit like that, but it wasn’t as if the person who the scroll was about was necessarily gone.  There was a very good chance that they still existed.  They had already been dead when they’d dictated this.  

Well, it didn’t matter, he supposed.  It was very unlikely that they’d ever meet the guy.  He wasn’t sure why it bothered him, anyway.  

He finished the scroll and rolled it up.  He looked up scanning the room for the attendant.  His eyes, however, caught on the large man with the bat ears and moth winds.  He looked like he was suffering, his skin soft and melty.  The thin man didn’t look like he was having a good time, either, fighting with his wings and an over-the-shoulder bag.  Oh, and there was something broken on that printing press that he could definitely fix.  And then, if he thought about it, this translation hadn’t taken him long at all.  He could certainly afford the time to do a few more.

… Danny realized, then, that in addition to not having much of a chance to travel and explore, lately, he hadn’t had much opportunity to indulge his primary Obsession beyond helping in the lab, and now that he wasn’t swamped in the haze of cabin fever, it was itching its way out of his skin.  

He was going to be horribly nosy about things.  He could just feel it.  All the practice in minding his own business he’d gotten in high school was years ago now. 

[wisedelusionalmarshmallow]

@jegulus-microfic, June 14th - Attraction, G, Word Count - 472

James wasn't sure how he always found himself in situations like this.

Him and Barty had been fake dating for around a month now. They decided on it after James found Barty crying after one of their quidditch matches. He was going on about how he is never sure of Evan's intentions. The two of them are pretty close, so Evan lying on his chest under the stars could just be friendly but Barty hopes it isn't and wishes he knew for sure.

So James convinced him that the best way to find out is to see his reaction when you start dating someone else. Barty asked if he was offering and James agreed on the conditions that Barty pays for all their 'dates'. He wasn't one to pass up free food.

Maybe that's how he keeps getting himself into these situations. Free food and the need to always have an answer.

"James, you're staring again," Barty teases, coming to sit beside the older boy on one of the couches in the Slytherin common room.

James looks over to Barty, trying to play off the fact that he was caught staring at Regulus, again. "What? No." It's not his fault that Sirius' younger brother happened to be exactly his type. He stares right at Barty to avoid making his lie so much more obvious by staring at Regulus again.

Barty laughs and rests his chin on James' shoulder. Staring up to him with mischief in his eyes. "You like him, don't you?"

James sputters for a moment. “I mean, I think he’s attractive but I’m not attracted to him.” An obvious lie.

“What’s this about attraction?” Regulus asks, appearing behind the two of them.

Of course, Regulus always has impeccable timing. Much to James' dismay. James just stares at Regulus, admiring him from up close and is so thankful that Barty speaks first.

"Me and James here were just talking about people we like."

Regulus looks between the two of them, trying to figure something out. "You two are dating," he mentions. James notices though, that he doesn't say the sentence in his usual tone, instead speaking in something slightly more unsure.

"Maybe we're looking for a third huh?" Barty interjects, noticing the same switch in tone and trying to fix the situation.

Regulus rolls his eyes. James is thankful for Barty's quick thinking and witty speech.

"Well, count me out. I'm not interested in sharing with Barty." And with that Regulus walks away from the two of them.

Did he hear that right? James looks straight ahead to Barty. Double checking that he wasn’t imagining things.

"I think someone else is jealous,” Barty laughs, waggling his eyebrows.

James can’t hide the smile that spreads across his face. Turns out he is getting more than free food out of this arrangement afterall.

[kquil]

🍪: cookie with james who surprises reader by coming over at their work to pick them up and he's very touchy and wants hugs and all the cute stuff but reader tries (and fails) to pry him off them bc they're sweaty and gross from working all day if that makes sense hehe tysm and congrats on 1k <3

A/N : this was super cute darling! thank you for the request and celebrating my 1k milestone with me, i'm sorry this took so long for me to write, nevertheless, i hope you enjoy how it turned out ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

“James?” you call with uncertainty, cautiously eyeing the familiar figure standing before you. His charming grin, complete with adorable dimples, greets you and you’re immediately assured of who’s standing before you. It was probably the setting around him that somehow warped his appearance enough to seem unfamiliar. It wasn’t common for James to come to your workplace as the two of you got off work at the same time and found it more efficient to make the journey home separately; it was to your complete surprise that he was standing before you, just in time as you got off work, “What are you doing here?” Despite the question, a happy grin couldn’t escape your features. 

“To pick you up, of course,” the curly haired brunette regards you with a fond stare but rolls his eyes playfully, his tone just as tongue-in-cheek. Your loving boyfriend quickly approaches you with arms outstretched and a mischievous sparkle in his pretty hazel eyes. 

“Uhhh…” it was then that you noticed his state of hard labour. Having worked all day, he was covered in sweat and grime and you’re sure he wasn’t the cleanest either, “James!” you squeal in protest when he shows no mercy and pulls you into his arms with an evil laugh. 

“What?~” he feigns innocence, having successfully captured you in a tight embrace before peppering your face with kisses and squeezing you in his strong, muscular and sweaty arms, “I’m just kissing you~” he teases, his attack of kisses unrelenting until he succumbs to nuzzling his face into your hair and taking a big breath in through his nose, “you smell soooooo pretty~” 

“James!” you protest again, struggling against his hold but can’t help the laugh that escapes you, the merriment shaking your limbs and weakening your grapple for freedom. 

“If you just keep calling my name, I won’t know what’s wrong so I won’t do anything~” he sings, maintaining his playful tone of voice. Now he’s kissing the crown of your head and slowly making his way back to your face again, eventually reaching your temple, where he proceeds to trail a sloppy path down to the pudge of your cheek.

“James?” you call once more, pulling your face away and meeting his eyes, his hazel pools reflecting so much love and tenderness in the mix of his shamelessness. 

“Yes, love?”

“Thank you for picking me up,” his eyes soften considerably and he leans down, loving words forming on his tongue but is caught completely off guard when you take the opportunity to push him away, laughing, “but stay away from me!” your playful words matches his earlier one in both pitch and tone, “you stink~” 

“Wha-?!” he makes a face of mock offence before coming at you like a game of prey and predator, “that’s just the smell of my abundant love for you!”

“Yeah right!” you roll your eyes as easily as the sarcastic comment rolls off your tongue and laugh when he begins to chase you, “Abundant in sweat and grime, more like!” 

“Why you-! Get back here!” you both laugh as he chases you to his car where you giggle with one another, share a kiss and settle in his car before he finally drives you both home for a much needed shower and rest.

1K MILESTONE EVENT : CLOSED | NAVI.

[gods-no-longer-tread-here]

I need y'all to be so normal about this but I'm writing a GoYu Bakery AU (first two chapters are up on AO3) and I'm just. SO proud of how I wrote Gojo's dramatic gay ass realizing he has a crush on a college kid in this scene in chp3.

~

The realization was slow. It actually hit him just as he was midway through saying hello to Megumi as he returned to the office. Gojo froze, words dying in his throat, as his brain began to frantically analyze his own behavior over the past six months. He’d been so sure that he was only going to the cafe for the food, and for the way no one fawned over him, that he’d completely missed the fact that he was only happy after a visit if he got to speak to Yuji.

He had not been going for the food. He’d been going for the baker.

Gojo let out a string of vicious cursing, calling himself a dozen kinds of idiot, and just barely caught himself in time to set the slice of lemon meringue pie he’d brought for Megumi down gently, so as not to ruin it, instead of throwing it at his poor assistant.

“Megumi,” Gojo said in ominous tones, “I am the fucking stupidest man on the planet.”

“Yes, I knew that,” Megumi agreed. “What did you do this time?”

Gojo began to pace the waiting room, running his hands through his hair. “Okay. So. You know how I’m shit at explaining what I want from other people in regards to things like relationships and sex?”

“Yes. Tanaka still wants you back.”

“Tanaka can wait. Well, it appears I am also shit at explaining to myself what I want. Because I thought I just really liked the food at Lucky Pond, and the atmosphere, and how nobody treats me differently there. It’s a novelty. Nothing more. Except.” He spun on his toes sharply, feeling like a prophet of doom, realizing that he had well and truly fucked up. “It’s not just that the food’s exquisite and the atmosphere’s comfortable. It’s the fact that fucking Itadori Yuji works there.”

Megumi blinked mildly. Then his eyes widened in shock, and he blurted, “He’s over a decade younger than you!”

“Exactly!” Gojo exploded, throwing his hands in the air. “He’s a baby, barely nineteen! But he’s adorable and sweet and talented and kind and just stupid enough to be endearing but still intuitive enough to be fun to talk to and I want to be the kind of man worthy of his attention so bad that it’s pathetic!” He collapsed in a chair, flinging his arm over his eyes. “Megumi. As your mentor, I beg of you to kill me, throw my corpse in the ocean, and make everyone think I retired to Malaysia.”

“Absolutely not. Fake your death like a normal person.” Megumi shoved the pie aside and started typing aggressively on his computer. “I’m emailing Nanami. He can take over all business with Lucky Pond while you get over Itadori. Fucking hell… at least you realized this before he fell in love with you.”

“He’d never,” Gojo said gloomily. “I overheard him talking to Jupei last week about his celebrity crushes—he likes women. Tall, curvy women with butts and boobs. Not dudes with no meat on their bones.”

“Sensei, are you… are you actually moping?” Megumi demanded incredulously. “Because a guy ten years younger than you is straight and into curvy women?!”

“Oh, god.” Gojo covered his face with his hands. “I’m fucked. I’m so fucked. I’ll fake my death. Nanami can run the business himself, it’s fine. I’ll run away to America and change my name. Should I dye my hair brown or red?”

“Neither. Blond is pretty common in America, right? Blond and blue eyes? You’ll fit right in with the rest of them, annoying as you are.”

"Fuck you. Blond it is."

[onenicebugperday]

@nekoshikai submitted: I've been to a butterfly display recently and took a lot of buggy pics! There weren't many ids tho so I just enjoyed the colors (I live in middle/northern Italy if you want to give some IDs ;D)

There was also a big boi sunbathing and I'm pretty sure I caught some buggy sexy times

I love them all! Including the lizard who can be a honorary bug. These fellas are not native to Italy. The first one looks like an Atlas moth (Attacus atlas) or similar. The second appears to be a tailed jay (Graphium agamemnon), and the last three photos of butterflies are all swallowtails (Papilio sp.). The first looks like a common mormon, but not sure on the others. I hope the ones mating made lots of babies, though!

[lumpywhump]

Hidden Scars #2: Pline

still don't know how to do the fancy word link think so boom here ya go

tw: flashbacks

"Hey, are you okay?" Kane stared at the boy. This kid, clearly no older than 12, was out in the middle of nowhere talking to a beaten up stranger who was just laying on the ground. "Mister?" "Uh—" Kane went to talk but was cut off by his own coughing and had to sit up. The boy moved to help, but Kane put up a scarred hand. "I'm fine," they coughed out, finding his pride again. He didn't need help from a child. "Where are your parents?" "Me and my mom live right over there," the child pointed to his right. "Do you guys live near a town?" Kane tried to scratch under the thick metal collar around his throat. "Yeah! Our town is really fun. Trust me, I've been to Farinsburg. We've got an ice cream store right in the center. Can I show you!?" The kid was practically jumping at the idea. "Uh… sure?" Kane shifted and all his muscles ached. "Ow ow ow," they chanted and they slowly stood up. "I have to go tell Mom where we're going and then we can go," the boy began walking. "Oh," he stopped, "my name is Pline, what's your's?" "Kane," he answered as he attempted to keep up. The twigs and bushes scraped his barely covered skin. "Wow, that's a really common name. Mine's a lot less common. My mom named me after this guy who died," Kane nodded, unsure how to reply to that. They approached a house. It was a decent size with yellow sidings and two floors. Pline pulled Kane up the stairs of the deck and opened the glass sliding door. "Mom!" Pline yelled, making the boy jump. "I found someone out in the woods! I'm going to go show them Mermaid's!" Carpeted footsteps echoed through the house until a woman appeared. "Pline, what did you find this time…" the woman trailed off as she took in Kane's appearance. He didn't know how he looked but he was sure it wasn't a pretty sight. "What happened?" She gasped. "I dunno," Pline shrugged, "found him like this. Oh! I forgot about my Lego house!" The kid ran over to the swarm of legos on the floor. "Come in," the woman beckoned.

The woman, Tammy, gently held Kane's chin as she cleaned their relatively fresh wound dragging from their nose and touching his neck. "Where are your parents?" She asked. Kane could tell she was trying to distract him from the pain. "They're in the capital," "What's your last name?" "I—" "Mom!" Pline yelled as he appeared in the doorway. "I finished my house! Can I show you?" "In a minute, I'm trying to help our friend here." Tammy poured more hydrogen peroxide on the rag. Kane hissed as rag touched his skin. "When can I show them Mermaid's?" "When he's feeling better." Tammy reached for a square bandaid to put on the first half of the wound. As she put it on, she folded the bottom so the sticky part wouldn't touch his wound. "Can you hold that?" She grabbed the second bandaid and put the top bandaid over it. "How old are you?" She picked up the rag again and moved onto his arm. "I don't know," Kane whispered. "Last I knew I was 18. What year is it?" Tammy gave him an odd look. "It's 2024," His stomach dropped and his breath quickened. It was as if a thousand bricks landed on him. "It's been two years?" He felt his eyes begin to water, but quickly wiped them away. "Heh, wow," he put on a smile and looked at Tammy. "I've been gone a while," The boy watched Tammy's face go from concern to full blown panic. "What happened?" She quickly schooled her face. "Where were you?" His voice caught in his throat for a second. "I— I don't know," he whispered as he began to stare at the wall. "There was— I didn't— oh my god." He bit his lip and began to scratch around the collar. "Hey," Tammy gently lowered the boy's hand, "why don't we get that off you, yeah?" Kane nodded, his ratty hair bouncing with the movement. He tensed as he watched Tammy's hands slowly reached for his neck. His skin throbbed under the collar as the woman felt around the back for a release button. With a satisfying click, Kane could finally breathe. Without the weight of the collar, it finally sunk in what he had done. He was free. "Holyshi— sugar!" Tammy blinked. "Uh…" she looked down at the collar. The thing was brown on the outside and black on the inside. There was a metal ring in it. The ring matched the patterns of burns on his neck. Kane stared at the floral shower curtain. He didn't want to meet the woman's gaze, afraid of what he might find.

"No one wants you now. Think about it." The boy's captor chuckled. "Why are you still here? With your family's resources they should have found you easily," Kane looked around although the blindfold was snug around his eyes, he still tried to catch a hint of light. "You're not hidden that well. They just don't want you back. They know you're ruined." A smooth finger traced the large scar on his arm. "Can't have you seen all mangled, hm?"

"Kid?" Kane blinked and returned Tammy's gaze. "You okay?" Kane was about to nod before he was interrupted. "What kind of question is that? Of course you aren't. Listen, when you're all patched up we're going to find your parents, okay?" "Uh, sure." Kane didn't want to argue with her that he was an adult. Especially because he did in fact live with his parents

[natashxromanovf]

omg for ur sweater weather sleepover!! what about a cosy christmas night at the gryffindor common room, eating sweets and playing chess with the marauders. And like (bare with me i haven't thought this through😭) sirius finally decides to FESS UP and confess :D

Peacfully messy evenings

sirius black x gn!reader

wc: 906

warnings: mentions of food, it might not be gender neutral reader but i’m pretty sure it is, not proofread

a/n: i got a little carried away, i’m sorry haha. but i really loved the request, thanks for sending it in🤍 i hope you like this <33

"Check," James says as he moves his figure, a look of disappointment appearing on Peter's face.

"How do you do this every time?" he whines, his shoulders dropping.

"C'mon, it's not over yet, you can still win," James encourages, giving the last bit of hope to Peter.

You're currently seated between Sirius' legs, your back pressed to his front, your head resting on his shoulder. You're half watching the chess game unfolding before your eyes, half fighting the urge to sleep. The position you're in is very comfortable and the temperature in the room is just perfect. There's a piece of your favourite candy in your hands and you're trying to gather the strength to lift it up and place it in your mouth.

"You know, if you don't want to eat it, I can," Sirius jokes, making you look up at his face.

"No, no, I got it," you laugh, finally taking the last bite of the sweet treat.

"Shame, I would have happily done it," he says, earning a chuckle from you. "I love that sound," he mutters, and you look at him weirdly.

"What sound?" you ask, confused.

"Your laugh," he simply replies. You sweetly smile at him, trying to calm down the butterflies in your stomach that erupted at his statement. You hate that you get this feeling whenever he's with you. He's your best friend and that should be it. No feelings, no longing for more. Yet, there's no denying it, you like him. Maybe more than like, but that's a problem for another day. And sometimes, especially when he says something like this, you think the feelings might be mutual but it could all be in your head. After all, Sirius does flirt with everyone for fun.

"Oh, just get a room already," Remus murmurs out of nowhere, making the both of you look at him like he just said the most unbelievable thing ever. He doesn't even avert his eyes away from the words on the page of a book he's currently reading, just adds a "you heard me" to his previous sentence. Sirius quietly coughs, trying to get rid of the weird atmosphere that suddenly appeared in the common room. Let's just say his attempt wasn't helping.

"I won!" Peter then screams, a hint of surprise in his voice. "I won!" he repeats himself, abruptly standing up. "I won!" he once again exclaims, looking at the two of you for confirmation.

"Good job, Pete!" you smile, giving him a high five. His face is still caught in complete shock when he turns around, being met with a big grin playing on James' lips.

"Congratulations, mate," he genuinely praises, urging Peter to sit down for another game. He does so, putting the figures back in their original place.

"Do you think James let him win?" you question, forgetting about the previous awkwardness momentarily.

"Oh, definitely. Maybe not really, but at least a little bit," Sirius whispers, taking a look at the grinning Peter. When he looks back down, he's met with your shining eyes and for a moment, he just stares deep into them. "You know, you look very beautiful tonight," he confesses and you release a breath you didn't even realise you were holding.

"Please stop. You can't just say something like that and expect me to not feel anything. I know it's something you do, it's your thing. Flirting and making people giggle, it's fun to you. But it's not fun for me, especially when you know - and I know you know - that I'm so into you," you finish, fighting the tears that are bound to escape. You can't believe this peaceful evening just turned into this mess.

"But what if it's genuine with you?" he starts and you close your eyes, preparing yourself for what he's about to say next. "What if I actually mean it when I say stuff like this? Because I do, Y/N. I do think you're beautiful and not just tonight. You're beautiful when you wake up, you're beautiful when you make that face in class when you try to really focus on something, you're beautiful when you smile and you're beautiful when you cry. You're beautiful every minute of every day, and I mean that." he utters, making you look up once again. You somehow still expect to see a joking expression when you do finally look up, but all you see is honesty. He's telling the truth right now. Sirius black actually likes you.

"You- you really mean that," you state. Not a question, a statement. Because you know that now.

"Yes, Merlin, I'm surprised how you haven't figured that out yet," he chuckles, which makes you chuckle.

"You mean it," you laugh, absolutely drunk on happiness.

"Finally!" you hear James cheer and when you look around the room, all eyes are on the two of you. Even Remus looked up from his book.

"You were listening this whole time?" you question, giving them an "are you serious" look.

"Well, you weren't really whispering so it was kind of hard not to," Peter shrugs, returning to the chess game without another word.

"But we are happy for you," Remus finishes, turning his attention back to the book. You just shake your head and smile, because what else could you do? They might be idiots but they're your idiots. And one idiot is especially yours now.

i hope you enjoyed this! don’t forget to like, reblog and/or comment, it really help writers with motivation <33

tags: @yoongisbiwife @sexysirius @pregnant-piggy @lilylovegood @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @justreadingficsdontmindme @leossmoonn @msfandomfreak @pottahishotasf @velvetcloxds @johnmurphyisqueer @fairydxll @lovelyjj @cauliflowertree (let me know if you want to be on here please) @cupids-crystals @eichenhouseproperty @sheraayasher @liltimmyst @marauders-babe @alexxavicry @uwiuwi @ell0ra-br3kk3r

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[thoughtsofafruit]

Quick little Rosechaser because I might just be a little obsessed with this ship. I will ship basically anything though, I just crave new keeps my brain happy.

There was a common misconception about James. A misconception far to many fell for, if you asked him.

"Evan!" James shouted after a match where slytherin had utterly destroyed gryffindor. He was too busy focusing on the blond boy in the stands laughing at him to notice the eyeroll that Lily Evans gave him, or all the annoyed looks many of the spectators gave him. "You were distracting me on purpose!" he claimed.

"Ah yes, of course, because I care so much for both quidditch and my school house to intentionally distract my rather talented boyfriend from his favourite thing," Evan said in a bored tone though he was smiling.

"You do like beating Gryffindor though, you've told me in the past!" James said. Evan smirked at him. Despite their public display as Evan would call it no one seemed to notice.

~~~~~~~~~

James settled into his usual seat at the library, opposite Remus and beside Sirius. The pair weren't trusted next to each other. He was still a little lost considering what him and Evan had been doing several minuetes earlier. He glanced through the bookshelves and caught sight of his boyfriend and his friends at the next table.

"So," Sirius said in his gossip voice. He had a voice for everything and James was accustomed to this one almost as much as his mischievous voice.

"So?" He asked.

"You and Evans," he said. James had wondered when his relationship with Evan would be brought up, it wasn't like they tried to keep it a secret. Five minutes prior if that Evan had kissed him in the middle of the library.

"Evan and I," James agreed, not picking up on the s.

"So it's true then?" Peter asked.

"Well yeah, Evan hasn't been trying to hide it, I haven't been trying to hide it, surprised it took you so long to notice," he told them. Remus hummed and glanced to the side, the same direction James kept looking, not that he was aware he was doing that.

"What's she like?" Sirius asked.

"He's pretty amazing actually. Not nearly as stuck up as you'd think," James said as he chewed on his quill, glancing to see Evan looking their way.

~~~~~~~~~

A gryffindor party was a gryffindor party. The spiked punch, the unspiked punch. The butterbeer and the firewhiskey. The tables of sweets ands savoury food alike. Music blaring, and people shouting out random gossip. James wished Evan would come to one. All the couples dancing made him miss him.

Several hours later Sirius raised a toast. "To Lily and James!" He shouted to cheers throughout the room.

"What?" James asked as he froze in place to the sweet table.

"What?" Lily asked from the sausage roll plate.

"Pads," Remus said, guiding him off the table he had gotten up on to start the rumour. James had spotted several people already rushing out the common room to spread the news as it where, they'd end up caught out there if they weren't careful.

"What?" James asked again. Lily appeared at his arm.

"What's going on?" She asked sternly. It had to be his doing, the relationship announcement.

"I'm not sure," he muttered. He'd have to get to Evan before this was common knowledge but he wasn't welcome in the slytherin dorm room and it was far too past curfew to start this sort of a conversation with him.

"Seriously Potter you better tell me what this is about!" Lily demanded, but James didn't answer. He was too busy figuring out how this had happened. He couldn't understand it. He went to bed without talking to his friends about it

~~~~~~~~~

"Evan!" James called down the hallway the next day as he sped walked after his boyfriend, ignorant to the fact that Lily was also walking ahead. "Evan! Please don't ignore me Evan! Evan!" He completley ignored Lily as she turned round to raise an eyebrow at him. She wanted an explanation.

"James," she said sternly as he passed. He glanced to her and smiled, barely stopping.

"Sorry Lily, can't talk," he said, before turning back to the hall and chasing after Evan. "Please Evan! It was an honest mistake! A complete and utter accident! Evan I'm sorry, seriously, please!" He shouted after him, unaware that Lily had started following him curious as to what was going on. They took a turn and the crowd thinned out.

"You're entire friend group think you're dating that ginger!" Evan shouted as he stormed down an empty corridor.

"I have no idea why they think I like Lily! I'm gay, like so gay and like really gay for you!" James shouted after him.

"Yet your friends started this rumour you're dating Lily fucking Evans!" Evan shouted at him as he spun around.

"And I don't know why!" James said desperately. "We don't hide our relationship, Lily is very openly with Mary, they all know I'm into men."

"It doesn't seem to matter to Sirius does it! No! Instead he had to go and announce your wonderful relationship with a fucking muggle born woman to all of gryffindor!" He shouted at him.

"Evan please, you heard the whole conversation last week! They were all there. Sirius asked if I was dating you and I said yes. They know, they should do anyway," James said, practically begging his boyfriend to listen.

"Um, sorry, but I would also like to know why people think we're dating," Lily said from behind James.

"Evans," Evan greeted coldly.

"Rosier," she greeted in turn. James instinctively reached a hand out in a form if support to Evan. He hated his surname with a burning passion.

"Oh," James said as he pieced it together.

"Oh?" Evan asked, rasing an eyebrow at him.

"Oh," he said again.

"Oh?" Lily asked.

"Oh!" he exclaimed.

"Potter," Lily warned.

"James, love, what is it?" He asked.

"Evan," he said pointing to his boyfriend. "Evans," he said pointing to his friend.

"Oh," they said together.

"There must have been some misunderstanding, between the names," Lily said.

""To be expected from a group of idiots," Evan said.

"Hey!" James said, pouting at him.

"You're an idiot for not realising sooner," he told him.

"I'll tell them later,' James promised.

[blkdivinefeminine]

one, the boy with thorns on his side

July 3rd, 1997

       [ Malibu, California, ]

                

Patrick stood nervously at the doorstep alongside his mother, clutching a bouquet of wildflowers tightly in his hands. His usual boyish charm that usually got him his way didn't seem to cut it this time. The cliché apology was entirely his mother's idea; before their arrival, she had made sure Patrick rehearsed their speech multiple times.

When the door creaked open, Melanie appeared, her face breaking into a warm smile as she enveloped Patrick's mother, Donna, in a tight hug. She then leaned in to place a small peck on Patrick's left cheek. "What brings you two here this late? Donna, you're usually in bed by now." She stepped aside, raising her eyebrows and glancing at the flowers Patrick was holding with mild curiosity.

"I know, I know," Donna said with a touch of embarrassment. "But Patrick here decided to ruin my beauty rest. I overheard him talking to his friend about almost running over some pretty girl with his bike. And then this morning, when you mentioned Ramona had scraped her knee... I put two and two together." Donna looked at Patrick with a mixture of disappointment and encouragement. "So, he's here to apologize. Isn't that right, Patrick?"

Patrick nodded, trying to mask his guilt with a toothy grin. Melanie's eyes narrowed slightly, her skepticism evident, but she couldn't help but smile at his effort.

"Perfect! Well, Donna, you can settle in while I take this one up to see Ramona." Melanie gestured for Patrick to follow her.

Patrick, still clutching the bouquet, followed Melanie upstairs. His nerves grew with each step. When they reached Ramona's room, Melanie knocked gently before opening the door.

"Mona, you have a visitor."

Ramona looked up from her desk, where she had been sketching. Her gaze fell on the young boy, and she raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. She had seen the scene unfold earlier from her window, noting Patrick's nervous demeanor as his mother scolded him.

"I'll leave you two alone. I have some catching up to do with Donna," Melanie said, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she left the room.

Patrick stepped inside, feeling the weight of Ramona's scrutiny. The awkwardness made Ramona's eyes squint slightly, betraying a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

"I, um, apologize for knocking you down earlier. It was my mistake. I didn't see you until it was too late." Patrick, with his usual cocky grin, extended the flowers towards her. Ramona hesitated before taking them. "Thanks, I guess..." she said softly, offering him a small smile. "I'm okay, really. Just a few scratches.

"Do you often tend to do that?"

"Do what?" Patrick was caught off guard by her question.

Ramona chuckled at his confusion. "I don't know... just leave when you make a mistake or when things get bad."

Patrick stood in silence, appalled. Used to being praised by everyone except his father, he wasn't accustomed to someone his own age putting him in his place. He tapped his feet against the woolen, Mandela-designed carpet, glancing around her room filled with Van Gogh and Basquiat artwork and music posters. It was clear that tennis was not a prominent part of her interests.

"Anyways. You know, you don't just have to stand there. You can take a seat if you'd like," Ramona suggested, breaking the silence. She gestured to a beanbag chair by the window and followed him as he sat down.

Patrick leaned back, trying to appear casual despite his nerves. "So, I've heard you only come here in the summer, right?"

Ramona nodded. "Yeah, I spend the rest of the year with my dad in New York."

"Figured as much. I've heard of you... I mean, your mom talks a lot about you. Says we have things in common, that you play tennis too. But I can't tell if it's true with all this cool artwork in your room. I can't draw to save my life." Patrick chuckled, and Ramona joined in.

"That's one way to put it. This—" she gestured to her drawings—"is what I love to do. Tennis is more of what my mom likes me to do whenever she's around. I only play when she tells me to. I think I'm pretty good, though. I just hope to get better for her. She also says you're quite the player and that you could help me improve."

Patrick's bravado softened as he looked at Ramona. Her sincerity resonated with him in a way he hadn't expected. "Yeah, something like that. It's a bit weird for me too... but maybe we could play together sometime. Just for fun, at least. I usually come by here to get some practice."

Ramona nodded, sensing the genuine offer. "Sure, why not? Just this time, try not to hit me, okay?"

They both laughed, and Patrick's mother's voice interrupted them from downstairs.

"And that's my cue. Good night, Ramona. See you soon." Patrick stood up to leave, pausing before adding, "And by the way, she's got it wrong. You're going to be the one to make me better."

Ramona smiled to herself as she closed the bedroom door behind him. She quickly grabbed her sketchbook from her desk and made her way to the window, watching sweetly as the brunette boy disappeared into the midst of night .

July 3rd, 2005

[ Malibu, California ]

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over Ramona's backyard. The tennis court, bathed in the soft light from the overhead fixtures, was quiet except for the rhythmic sound of balls being hit back and forth. The air was warm, heavy with the scent of freshly cut grass and the distant hum of cicadas.

Ramona stood at the baseline, her brow furrowed in concentration as she gripped her racket, her muscles tense with anticipation. Patrick was beside her, his presence both familiar and unnervingly close. He moved with an easy confidence, a natural athlete who seemed to belong on the court as much as the night itself. His hands, strong and sure, found their way to her waist, adjusting her stance with a gentle but firm touch.

"Your serve's good," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear, "but you're putting too much weight on your back foot. Shift forward a bit, let your momentum carry you through."

Ramona nodded, swallowing the nervous flutter in her stomach as she tried to focus on his words. But the sensation of his hands on her waist, the way his fingers lingered just a moment too long, made it hard to think straight. She shifted her weight as he instructed, her body responding more to his touch than to her own will.

"Like this?" she asked, her voice betraying the slightest tremor.

"Yeah, just like that," Patrick replied, his voice low, almost soothing. He stepped back, giving her space to try again, but the warmth of his hands seemed to linger on her skin.

Ramona tossed the ball into the air, her arm moving in a fluid arc as she brought the racket down with force. The ball sailed over the net with a satisfying thwack, landing neatly within the service box. Patrick nodded approvingly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"See? Perfect," he said, his eyes catching hers for a moment longer than necessary.

"Let's go again." Patrick stepped closer this time. His hands didn't just guide her—they lingered, the tips of his fingers brushing lightly against the bare skin just above her skirt's waistband. Ramona's heart skipped a beat, her body tensing at the contact.

"Patrick..." she started, her voice trailing off as she tried to focus on the ball in her hand instead of the warmth radiating from where his hand rested.

"You're doing great, but maybe I should push you a little more."

Before Ramona could respond, Patrick stepped back, tossing the ball high into the air. His serve was powerful, sending the ball rocketing toward her with a speed she wasn't fully prepared for. She managed to get her racket up in time but barely made contact, sending the ball careening off to the side.

"Come on, you can do better than that," Patrick teased, his tone light but with a challenging edge.

Ramona's competitive streak flared, and she quickly retrieved the ball. "Alright, let's go again," she said, determination settling into her bones.

They rallied back and forth, the pace quickening with each hit. Patrick wasn't holding back, and Ramona found herself struggling to keep up, each shot a test of her reflexes and endurance. Her muscles burned, her breath coming in sharp bursts, but she refused to back down.

Then, in the middle of their rally, Patrick hit a shot just out of her reach. Ramona lunged for it, her body stretching to its limit. Her foot slipped slightly on the dew-slick grass, and before she knew it, she was off-balance. She crashed into Patrick, sending them both tumbling to the ground in a tangled heap of limbs and laughter.

For a moment, everything was still, the world around them fading into the background. Ramona found herself sprawled on top of Patrick, her chest pressed against his, their faces inches apart. The warmth of his body seeped into her, the rhythm of his heartbeat a steady thrum beneath her.

"Guess I pushed you too hard," Patrick said, his voice a mix of amusement and something else—something softer.

Ramona looked down at him, her breath catching in her throat. The way he was looking at her, his eyes dark and unreadable, made her heart race. She could feel his breath on her lips, the closeness between them suddenly overwhelming.

"Maybe just a little," she replied, trying to keep her voice light, but it came out quieter, almost a whisper.

They stayed like that for a moment, the laughter fading into a charged silence. Patrick's hands rested on her hips, the warmth of his touch sending sparks up her spine. He was so close, so unbearably close, and Ramona felt a confusing mix of emotions swirling inside her—affection, desire, fear. She didn't want to move, didn't want to break the spell of the moment, even though she knew she should.

"Here, let me help you," Patrick broke the silence with his offer, his voice softer now as he slowly lifted her off him, his hands lingering just a moment longer than necessary on her waist before letting go. Ramona allowed him to help her up, feeling the steadiness of his grip and the warmth of his skin. They stood there for a second, close enough to feel each other's breath, the night air thick with unspoken tension. But then Patrick stepped back, breaking the spell, and the world seemed to rush back in.

"Mona."

"Yes, Pat," Ramona said, her gaze still fixated on him.

Patrick gave her that same devilish grin, knowing it peeved her. "Well, since the parents are away, what if I stayed the night, just like old times? Besides, they wouldn't want you alone anyway."

Ramona chuckled, the tension easing slightly. "Not with you, at least."

"What's wrong with me?"

"Well, you know," Ramona said, narrowing her eyes slightly as she gestured towards him. Patrick had quite the reputation with women, yet it surprised her how eager her mother was to push them together. "They're starting to think we're hooking up and it doesn't help that my mom is in the hooks of intiating wedding plans for us".

"And what would be so wrong about that?" The air stilled, leaving Ramona quite appalled.

"Let them think what they want," Patrick replied, his voice suddenly serious, almost contemplative. "It's been like this for years. We know the truth."

Ramona's heart skipped a beat. Tonight, it felt different—loaded with meaning she wasn't sure she was ready to face. She tried to play it off, her tone teasing. "You sure your little girlfriend won't get jealous?"

Patrick's grin faltered for a fraction of a second before he shrugged it off, his tone light. "Delilah... is well Delilah.  And, besides she isn't my girlfriend. We're just friends who happen to do things friends normally don't do."

There was something in his gaze that made her pulse quicken, something unspoken but deeply felt. "Alright, you can stay," she finally said, her voice softening. "But only if you take a shower and promise not to wake me up at the crack of dawn for more practice."

Patrick laughed, tugging playfully at her hips, breaking the tension. "Deal."

They headed back inside, the warmth of the house a stark contrast to the cool night air. Ramona felt her nerves buzzing as she watched Patrick toss his shirt onto the back of a chair, his bare chest catching the dim light of the room. He turned back to her, catching her gaze just before she quickly looked away.

"I'm going to hit the shower," he said, his voice calm, but his eyes held something deeper as he looked at her. He paused for a moment, as if expecting a response, but when she didn't say anything, he shrugged lightly. "Don't get too comfortable without me."

Ramona let out a breath she didn't know she was holding once he was gone, her mind racing as she hurriedly set up the bed. Her thoughts were jumbled, a mess of confusion and anticipation as she tried to ignore the way her heart was beating a little too fast.

When Patrick returned, his hair damp and a towel casually draped over his shoulders, Ramona tried not to look at him, tried not to think about the fact that they were alone in the house, her mother miles away. She grabbed her own things and slipped into the bathroom, grateful for the brief escape. The hot water did little to calm her nerves. When she finally emerged, wrapped in her oversized tee and shorts, Patrick was already lying on the bed, his eyes closed as if he'd been waiting for her. He cracked one eye open when he heard her, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"You look comfy," he murmured, his voice low, almost teasing.

Ramona felt a warmth spread across her cheeks as she climbed into bed, trying to act casual as she pulled out her sketchbook. "I do, don't I?"

Patrick chuckled, propping himself up on one elbow, watching her with an almost unreadable expression. His eyes followed her movements as she settled beside him. Without warning, he shifted closer and rested his head on her lap, using it as a pillow. "You're not too busy for me, are you?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

Ramona tensed at the unexpected contact, her fingers tightening around her pencil. She looked down at him, his eyes already closing.

"And what do you think you're doing?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light, but there was a slight tremor in her words.

Patrick glanced up at her, his expression soft and slightly teasing. "What? Your lap's the best pillow in the house."

Ramona rolled her eyes, trying to play it off, but the warmth of his head against her legs, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, made it difficult to focus on anything else.

"Seriously?" she asked, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

Patrick closed his eyes, his voice trailing off as he mumbled, "Just trying to get comfortable... Don't mind me..."

Ramona looked down at him, her heart doing strange things in her chest. She could feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of her shirt, the subtle shift of his body as he relaxed against her. It was intimate, too intimate, and yet she couldn't bring herself to move him.

As the minutes ticked by, the room grew quieter, the only sound the soft rustling of pages as Ramona attempted to sketch. But her attention kept drifting to the boy lying in her lap, his face peaceful, his proximity sending her mind into overdrive. Her hands absently ran through his hair, the strands soft and slightly damp beneath her fingers.

She didn't know how long they stayed like that—minutes, hours—it all blurred together. Eventually, Patrick's breathing evened out, deep and steady, signaling that he had fallen asleep. Ramona watched him for a moment, her heart full of a confusing mix of emotions. There was something about seeing him like this, so vulnerable and at ease, that tugged at something deep inside her.

Carefully, she set aside her sketchbook and slowly leaned back against the headboard, trying not to disturb him. But Patrick shifted in his sleep, his arm wrapping around her waist as if instinctively seeking her warmth. Ramona froze, her heart pounding in her chest as his grip tightened slightly, pulling her closer. Her breath hitched, but she didn't move. She couldn't. The feel of his arm around her, the steady rise and fall of his chest against her leg, made her feel both comforted and terrified. It was as if they had crossed some invisible line, one that they could never uncross, and yet neither of them was willing to step back. Ramona let her head fall back against the headboard, her eyes closing as she tried to make sense of the emotions swirling inside her. She knew she should wake him, gently push him off and create some space between them, but the thought of doing so made her chest ache.

So instead, she stayed still, fingers still tangled in his hair, and her heart slowly becoming a chaotic mess of frustration, longing, desire and guilt.

VENUS WRITES!

chapter one out now! I hope you all

enjoy my loves :)

tags: @jazziejax, @lottiematthewsceo , @kendyzzlewp , @kurtcobaingirlie , @slyeyed,

@donaldsonsgirl, @heyitsliling