#it was definitely a challenge to get the likeness right

[xiao-come-home]

Thinking about post-story Jiaoqiu trying to find himself in the new situation.. and getting even more clingier 🤧

warning: spoilers for jaoqiu's story if you havent played the new quest. possible ooc jiaoqiu?

Word count: 1k+

a/n: its been a while from writing and even tho im not disabled in any way, i hope its alright bc im kinda nervous to post this. i just think hed be a lovely pain in the butt to get more love </3

The new reality has been a true challenge for Jiaoqiu - trying to navigate through the house was already a tedious task, let alone cooking, but he wasn't going to give up so easily. While yes, he did miss doing things by himself - which, once in a while brought dark clouds over his head - the foxian managed to find enjoyment through doing tasks together, with your help.

It's quite known that Jiaoqiu isn't afraid of craving affection from you anywhere and anytime - especially now, considering he's limited in what he's able to do safely without hurting himself. Now that you're welcome in the kitchen to assist him, the pink-haired foxian can't help, but pull you flush against him while you carefully guide his hands to cut vegetables in even slices.

The healer slowly trails the tip of his nose down your hair until he recognizes the familiar shape of your neck - Jiaoqiu nuzzles happily into you, ever so slightly tickling you and giving you goosebumps; he smiles against your skin when you let out a comically fake, tired sigh, only fueling him to continue pestering you further.

He purposely takes his chin off the top of your head and searches for your ears so he's able to whisper, but when you decide to playfully confront him, Jiaoqiu only plays dumb and tilts his head to the side, asking you a seemingly innocent question, "Hmm? What do you mean, love? I'm not doing anything, the kitchen is not a playground, remember?"

There's a chance you'd probably believe him if you two were mere coworkers - but his twitching ears always give away his attempts to lie to you.

Jiaoqiu is clingy. Absolutely no news to anybody. That's when you finally get done with cooking, it's time for the cunning foxian to get a break; he stretches his arms to you, waiting until you put his hands on your cheeks. He cups them gently, rubbing the soft flesh with his thumb, and softly moves it to find your lips - his mind paints a picture of your figure, the shape and every crease his fingers feel; he smiles at you yet again, with a glimmer of mischief.

He wants to kiss you.

He also knows he will most likely miss your lips more or less.

But instead of feeling hopeless, he uses it to his advantage.

Jiaoqiu begins to pepper your face in kisses until he feels you try to get away from him and hears your angelic giggles; he kisses your left eyebrow - oh no, that's definitely not the place he's aiming for! He moves more to the right and kisses the bridge of your nose - oh no, not yet! The softness of his lips meets the apple of your cheek - oh, that's closer, but still not the goal he has in his mind...

After a while of Jiaoqiu purposely changing directions (and probably missing some anyway, but it's not like he complains about it, since he can kiss you more this way), with a little help of yours, he places a kiss on the corner of your lips, barely giving you time to breathe and finally, finally reaching his awaited destination, pressing his lips on yours; he gives you a few quick kisses if he feels like he still misses the exact place to change the angle, melting into a puddle with butterflies in his stomach.

Is it hard sometimes? Yes. The heavy weight travels straight to his heart, leaving him clenching his fists; the foxian hates the helplessness that hurts twice as much, much worse than the wounds Hoolay has inflicted.

Nowadays, his ears pick up your step way better, even letting him guess correctly what jar of herbs you're opening from the mere sound. He uses his tail as some sort of object detector - but he only waves his fan innocently when it makes you yelp in surprise, as Jiaoqiu runs the tip down your spine all the way down.

"Ah, I wonder what that was?" Jiaoqiu wonders, the fluffy ears twitching and the pink tail swishing behind him, "Is something wrong, beloved? Did you mess up the measurements? No worries, we'll fix it right away."

Well, if you decide to leave the house for supplies, you now have to hold his hand all the time. Just to be sure, he also wraps his tail around you, so he knows you're by his side and he doesn't bump into anybody. Hey, he's just thinking about the civilians around him! As a doctor, there's nothing else that matters more than keeping them safe and healthy... Right?

Even though he's been braiding his hair for years and could probably do it by himself again - being only a tiny bit off on one side, he cuddles up to you in the morning and presses kisses onto your neck, silently asking you to help him once you get out of bed - you certainly can't miss his hair getting all up in your face... and therefore, what he's asking for.

Does he feel a liiiitle desperate? Mmm, a bit.

Does he feel like he's feeding the helplessness in the back of his mind? Sometimes.

But it's worth to look for happy moments regardless of the situation - and you being perfectly aware he's doing it solely to get even more of your attention - makes him feel a little better with it.

Though, he knows when to stop and give you space; he doesn't want to actually become your burden, even if he lost his sight, he's still trying his best to stay as independent as possible in terms of daily tasks as possible.

If you're tired, Jiaoqiu waits until you hand him the brush and he's the one combing your hair; if you're too sleepy in the morning, he's the one helping you put on your clothes with verbal help, even if it takes a bit more time than usual. Along with you, he organizes medicines so neatly, it takes a blink of an eye for him to bring a full tray of medicines when you happen to catch a cold.

Does he miss being able to see? More than he'd admit.

But the more he thinks, the pink-haired foxian always comes to the same conclusion - it'll probably be harder to unlearn the clinginess once his eyesight comes back...

But for now, maybe it's alright to indulge a little more?

[flightlessangelwings]

To Feel Your Body Against Mine

Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Word count-4.5k

Prompt- secret relationship

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), secret relationship, feelings, praise, sex in a public bathroom, softness, oral (f receiving), creampie, alcohol mention, a shitty ex, attempted assault (not detailed), mild violence (not against reader), happy ending, reader is a bartender/waitress, reader is Santi's sister but not physically described at all other than body parts, no use of y/n

Notes- For @burntheedges Roll a Trope writing challenge! I'm so excited to be able to participate and I got such a fun trope too! And I definitely made myself hot and bothered writing that second spicy scene lol! I hope everyone enjoys this!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

~

“Mmm… Frankie…” you moaned as you leaned your head back against the bathroom mirror.

He hummed your name in your ear as he smirked against your face.

“We’re gonna get caught if we take too much longer,” you huffed as you felt the warm embrace of his body against yours. 

“Yeah,” he groaned as he thrust into you, “But you feel so fucking good, baby,” his tone dropped as he thrusted again, “Can’t fucking stop.”

“Oh fuck,” you cried out as your eyes rolled back into your head.

Frankie had you on the bathroom counter in the employee bathroom at the bar you worked at. The moment the two of you had the chance to slip away, you took it, and quickly you clawed each other’s clothes off, desperate for one another. To have his cock fill you up again filled that need that left you feeling empty. To be connected to him once more was something that your body, and your heart, craved more than anything. To feel his strong arms around you as you wrapped your legs around his waist made everything feel perfect, even if you were currently in a dirty bathroom. 

And Frankie’s feelings reflected yours. From the moment he first met you all those years ago, he instantly fell for you. And to finally have you in his arms, to feel himself inside your pussy, to be able to call you his… it was better than heaven for him. Even from the second he walked into the bar and saw you with the drink mixer in your hand, the way your breasts swung then you shook it, he knew he was going to fuck you in the bathroom the moment he got the chance.

Your relationship was perfect. Even from the first night you spent together, it felt as if the two of you had been together for years. Everything just fell into place perfectly, like you were two puzzle pieces that finally clicked together to form the picture that was your life. Everything felt right. Everything felt perfect, like things were the way they should be.

It was almost perfect that is. There was only one problem: no one knew. No one could know. Because you were Santigo’s sister. 

“He’ll freak out if he finds out about us,” you had once told Frankie, “Let’s just keep it between us for now. We’ll figure out the right time to tell him later.”

But that didn’t matter now. All that mattered to Frankie now was you. You were the entire world to him as he fucked you in the bar bathroom. The way your mouth dropped open to let the beautiful cries flow freely was more intoxicating to him than the drinks you served. The way your breasts swung with his every thrust was captivating. The way your inner muscles clenched around his cock sent jolts of pleasure up his spine.

“Fuck you feel so fucking good,” he groaned. 

Sweat lined your brow as you clung to Frankie. One hand buried itself in his hair, tugging hard, while the other dug into his broad shoulder. All you could do was scream in pleasure as he rocked faster into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Fuck! Frankie, right there!” you moaned as you arched your back.

With one harsh grunt, Frankie thrust forward and both of you fell apart at the same time. You and Frankie both cried out as your bodies trembled against each other. Clinging to each other for dear life, you moaned loudly. Thankfully, the loud music from the bar drowned out your screams, yet at the time neither of you cared about that. All you cared about was the other as you rode out your climaxes together. 

Frankie huffed as he stilled himself inside you for a moment, hot and sweaty from the passionate lovemaking in the tiny bathroom. He let out a deep breath as he opened his eyes for a moment before closing them again to kiss you deeply. He savored the taste of you on his tongue as he slowly and carefully pulled out of you, swallowing the whimper you let out. His hand cupped the side of your face as his thumb stroked your cheek tenderly.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he mumbled as he rested his forehead against yours.

“So are you, Frankie,” you smirked back at him before you kissed him again. But, as much as you wanted the moment to last forever, you knew time was against you. “We really do need to get back now,” you sounded disappointed, “Don’t want anyone to get suspicious.” 

Frankie’s face dropped; he didn’t want the moment to end yet either, “Yeah,” he nodded as he helped you dress before slipping his own clothes back on.

Placing his trusty hat back on his head, you gave him one last kiss, “You go first. I’ll be behind you in a second.”

His dark, pleading eyes looked into yours as three words rushed to the tip of his tongue. But, just like every time before, they remained unspoken as he unlocked and left the bathroom.

You let out a deep sigh as you turned to the mirror and adjusted yourself for a moment before you also left your little hideaway and went back to the real world. The real world where as far as anyone was concerned, you and Frankie were just friends. 

*

You grinned from behind the bar as you watched the guys at their table. Santiago, your brother, and the guys who got each other through tough times that you couldn’t even imagine all laughed together. The four of them best of friends, brothers in arms. You couldn’t hear their conversation, but you could tell they enjoyed their time together, as they always did when the four of them convened. 

“There you are, nena!” Santiago exclaimed as you walked up to the table with a tray of drinks, “Where’ve you been?”

Frankie swallowed nervously, but hid it under the brim of his hat.

“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s busy in here,” you gestured over your shoulder to the crowd at the bar, “Some of us work for a living,” you added with a smirk. Glancing over for a brief moment, you caught Frankie’s eye and saw him relax his shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah,” Santiago shrugged, “As long as these assholes keep their hands to themselves and off my sister.” He shit a pointed glare towards another table of guys who made no effort to hide the way they checked you out when you walked by.

Will and Benny burst into laughter before Will spoke up, “Man you really have the overprotective brother thing down pat, don’t you, Pope?”

“Yeah,” Benny added as he sipped his drink.

Santiago rolled his eyes, “Shut up, assholes.”

You mirrored your brother’s eye roll before you turned and walked away, aware of a pair of eyes stealthily on your ass as you did so. A grin lit up your face while your back was to the guys.

Chatter echoed around him as he lost himself in your figure as the guys went back to their conversation. Vaguely, he was aware they were reminiscing about good times in the past before they turned their attention to Benny’s upcoming fight. The Miller brothers seemed to focus more on each other as Will gave his usual encouraging words to his little brother.

“Que pasas, hermano?” Santiago asked, noticing Frankie’s distant expression.

Frankie shook himself out of his thoughts and back to his best friend, “Nada,” he replied a little too quickly, “Nothing,” he repeated in a more leveled tone, “Just thinking is all,” he said as he took a sip of his drink and savored the taste that mixed with your that lingered on his tongue.

“That’s dangerous,” Santiago quipped playfully.

He rolled his eyes as he adjusted his hat. After a breath, Frankie chose his words carefully so as to not arouse suspicion, “Would it really be so bad if your sister found someone? Like found the right someone who treats her well?”

He pointed a stare at him for a moment before he took a swig of his drink and answered, “If it were the right person, yeah. She has a habit of picking real shitty ones though,” Santiago made a face as he pictured a particular ex of yours. But, he decided Frankie’s question was harmless, “But for now, I got my best friends watching over her when I can’t,” he placed a hand on his shoulder, “Thanks man, I know I can count on you.”

Frankie gave him a smile that hid the way he truly felt, “Anytime, man.”

*

“Oh Frankie… Ay mierda,” you moaned as you writhed on his bed.

The moon was high in the sky, illuminating Frankie’s bedroom. It was just the right amount of light to make for a romantic night in, and Frankie took full advantage of it. In between your legs he found a bliss unlike anything else. There was only one place he loved kissing you more than your lips…

Frankie groaned into you as he dug his hands into your thighs. As much as he wanted to tell you how beautiful you were or how delicious you tasted, he just couldn’t break himself away from your pussy. He slurped loudly, not caring how obscene the sounds he made were, especially when they made you moan and make such lovely sounds.

“Ay dios mio,” you cried out as one hand landed in his hair while the other clutched onto the sheets for dear life. The way his tongue so expertly found all your sensitive spots never ceased to amaze you… and always left you breathless.

Another growl emitted from deep within Frankie’s throat as he devoured you with even more fervor. His tongue swirled around your clit, making you whimper with every pass, and he could tell you were close.

Let me taste your cum, baby, he thought as he ran his tongue up and down your folds. The tip of his nose hit your clit as he dipped his tongue into your entrance, darting it in and out a few times before running back up. The moment his lips wrapped around your clit, you screamed and tugged at his hair.

“Frankie! Fuck!” you cried out as your legs trembled on either side of his head.

He tightened his grip on you as he sucked hard on your clit. And that was all it took to send you over the edge. With a loud scream, you came hard against his face, rocking your hips against his prominent nose as you rode out your climax.

Like a man dying of thirst, Frankie greedily lapped up your release as he kept his rhythm with his tongue. He didn’t want to waste a drop of your sweet juices, and he didn’t want to stop until you were entirely spent. His cock strained with need, but he ignored it in favor of your pleasure.

With one last gasp, you flopped down limp on the bed, and Frankie broke away from your cunt with a loud pop. He wanted your body through glazed over eyes as his chin glistened with your cum. He watched with fiery eyes as your breasts rose and fell with your heavy breaths as you came down from your high.

“Fuck you are so fucking sexy, baby,” he growled as he lunged forward and captured your lips with his own.

You moaned into him as you wrapped your arms and legs around his body as he covered you. A rumble from Frankie’s chest reverberated between your bodies as he rutted against you.

“I need you, baby,” Frankie sounded so desperate, “Fuck I can’t get enough of you.”

“Then fuck me, Francisco,” you mewled as you bucked your hips against his, feeling his rock hard cock against your slick pussy.

All he could do was growl as he angled his hips against you. Frankie slipped a hand between your bodies to guide his cock to your entrance, and the moment the tip hit your wetness, you both gasped.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed as he easily slid into you, your pussy still soaking wet from how avidly he devoured you.

“Oh my god…” you dropped your head back onto the mattress as you felt his cock stretch you out. You groaned and dug your nails into his back as you surrendered yourself to him completely. 

“Shit I’m not gonna last long with how fucking good you feel,” Frankie muttered as he started to rock in and out of you, feeling your walls around him with every thrust.

Any words escaped your mind the moment he started thrusting in and out of you. All you could do was moan and hold onto him as his cock filled you over and over again. In the moonlight, Frankie fucked you with everything he had. You felt the passion behind every thrust of his hips, and the way he held you while he ravaged you was unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

This was not just fucking. Frankie was making love to you in both the sweetest and roughest way he could. And it was everything you needed and more. Just as he was addicted to you and your pussy, you were addicted to him. You clawed at his back, pulling him closer as if you couldn’t get enough of him. You wanted to feel every inch of his body against you while his thick cock filled you up over and over again. You wanted… need him more than air.

Frankie was mesmerized by you. Before you pulled him closer, he watched as your breasts swung wildly with every thrust of his hips. And as he covered you with his body, he could feel your heart pound in your chest. He couldn’t get enough of the way you wrapped your arms and legs around him, wordlessly telling him you needed more, needed him closer. 

And he was happy to oblige. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as he murmured your name over and over with every thrust, “Baby I’m close.” Sweat lined his brow, making the thick locks of hair stick to his forehead.

“Cum in me, Frankie,” you whispered as you pressed your forehead against his, “Let me feel you.”

Your words alone almost made him lose control. But Frankie wasn’t going over the edge without you, so he snaked his hand in between your bodies to rub at your clit.

“Oh fuck,” you cried out as his touches sent jolts of pleasure up your spine, “Frankie…”

“I know baby,” he moaned, “I’ve got you…”

His thrusts became erratic as the room spun around him. Moans and cries of pleasure echoed between your bodies, and neither of you were sure who made which sounds. It didn’t matter anyway, you were connected at one, fitted together perfectly as if you were meant for each other.

Frankie felt his orgasm quickly approaching; with every thrust he was closer and closer. And from the way your inner muscles squeezed his cock, he could tell you were just as close. Pounding into you with fervor, Frankie growled your name as he came hard enough to see stars.

You screamed against his lips as your second climax hit at the same time. Clutching onto Frankie tightly, you trembled underneath him as you came together. Passions exploded between your bodies as Frankie rode out both your climaxes. Tears fell down your cheeks as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through your body. And a shiver ran up your spine as you felt Frankie’s release fill you to the brim while he moaned against your face.

With one last huff, Frankie thrust as deep as he could into you before he collapsed down on top of you with a grunt. You wheezed as the added weight was sudden, but you both burst into laughter as you both went limp against each other. Frankie planted light kisses on the side of your head as he caught his breath and his cock softened inside you. A chill of his own ran up his spine as your laughter sent shocks to his overstimulated cock.

“That was amazing, baby,” Franie murmured in your ear.

“You’re amazing, Frankie,” you whispered back, kissing him wherever you could while you ran your hands up and down his broad back.

Frankie broke away to gaze into your eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. Again, three words were on the tip of his tongue. He could have said them. He should have said them. You looked so beautiful underneath him in the moonlight. There was no better time than now…

Yet, he didn’t. Instead he said, “I got you,” as he slowly pulled out of you, causing you both to hiss. Frankie gave you an apologetic look when he was fully out of you, and he couldn’t help but glance down and watch his release spill out of your pussy.

He licked his lips, and for a moment he contemplated devouring you once more. But, his muscles ached, and Frankie felt the overwhelming need just to hold you close, to feel your body against his.

Reaching for a tissue on his bedside, Frankie gently, tenderly cleaned you up as you whimpered from the touch. You were overstimulated as well, but in the best way possible. Not wanting to leave your side even for a moment, he just tossed the tissue aside and laid down next to you, gathering you in his arms. You sighed contently as you pressed a light kiss to his chest before you laid your head down comfortably. 

“Hey baby?” Frankie broke the silence after several moments. 

“You alright, Frankie?” You noticed the change in his tone, which made you worry. You rested your hand on his chest, feeling his heart under your palm. 

“Do you ever think maybe we should tell Santiago about… us?”

You let out a deep sigh as you savored the warmth of his embrace for a moment, “I do hate hiding from him,” you admitted, “But I’m just scared to, you know?” Truthfully, you were sure he wouldn’t be as mad as you feared, yet something nagged at you about it. Perhaps because he reacted so badly to the last person you dated, yet he had good reason to. This time, however, it was Frankie, and who would deny Frankie? And the longer this went on, the more frightened you became. You dug yourself in this hole and the longer you hid in it, the more difficult you knew climbing out of that hole would be.

“I know,” he comforted you with a squeeze, “But we can do it together. He can’t be mad for too long,” he let out a soft laugh.

You chuckled, “You’re right,” you hummed in agreement, “We’ll pick a time to sit down with him and tell him the truth, and Will and Benny too.”

“Sounds good, baby,” he kissed the top of your head, “I’ll be right there with you, I promise,” Frankie paused and took a deep breath, “But for now, let’s get some sleep.”

*

It was a quieter night at work, which you were thankful for. So many crowded nights were great for your paycheck, but left you completely exhausted. A few regulars and some newcomers sat scattered around the bar, but you still had some time to just lean against the wall and rest for a bit. It was a calm, peaceful night.

Until the one person you never wanted to see again walked through the doors.

Immediately you were on edge from the moment you saw his sly face, “Ernesto,” you spat through gritted teeth, “What are you doing here?”

His grin sent shivers down your spine, “I missed you, sweetheart.”

“I don’t miss you,” your tone was cold as you held yourself strong, “Get out of here.”

“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” he leaned in close, invading your space and placing a hand on your shoulder, “Give me another chance. I’ve changed.”

“No!” you pushed his hand off your shoulder. But, before you could step away from him, he grabbed your wrist, “Let me go, Ernesto!”

Just as he tried to yank you close enough to him to kiss you, he was ripped away in a flash. Before he could even grunt in confusion, Ernesto found himself stumbling away from you and a man stood between you and him.

“Who the fuck are you?” he snapped.

“Frankie,” you breathed in relief.

“She told you no, so get the fuck out of here before I have to hurt you,” Frankie growled, sounding very unlike his usual self. 

“Fuck off, she’s mine,” Ernesto lunged for Frankie, fists winging.

Frankie clenched his jaw and waited for the opportunity to present itself. In between the flurry of hands from Ernesto, there was an opening. It only took one hit, one precise punch from Frankie right in his nose to send him careening back. Ernesto landed on the floor with a grunt, and all the air was forced out of his lungs as he saw stars from hitting his head.

In a rage, Frankie stepped forward and grabbed Ernesto’s collar, peeling him off the floor, “Have anything to say now, pendejo?” he growled.

It took him a moment to re-orientate himself before he stuttered, “N-no,” all the fight had left Ernesto’s body, “I’m going. I’m going,” he pleaded as he scrambled away and bolted for the door. Frankie watched to make sure he left before he quickly rushed over to you.

*

Santiago hopped out of his truck before he strolled toward the bar you worked at. He had some free time and decided to come see you, especially since he noticed you had been acting differently lately. He cared for you more than anything, and he only ever wanted the best for his sister and only family. He was in a good mood, but as he got closer to the bar, someone burst through the doors and slammed right into him.

“S-sorry,” Ernestro muttered as he looked up from where his gaze was pointed at the ground, “I didn’t mean to… You!” he gasped, recognizing Santiago.

“You!” he snarled as he grabbed Ernesto’s shirt, “What the fuck are you doing here?!” Santiago was ready to hit him, enraged when he thought about how he treated you in the past, but when he noticed the broken nose and blood from his face, he paused.

Ernesto took the opportunity in his hesitation to slip out of his grip and run away. Santiago thought about going after him, but his priority was more on his sister’s safety, so he ran inside to check on you. And when he rushed through the doors, the sight that met him froze him in his tracks.

Frankie was there, holding you tightly and whispering into your ear as you nuzzled into his shoulder. He couldn’t hear what exactly he said, but he could tell Frankie was whispering words of comfort into your ear in between feather light kisses. Santiago wasn’t sure how to feel and he stood in dumbfounded stillness for several moments.

“What the hell is going on here?” his voice was a low grumble as the emotions slipped out before he could stop them.

You gasped as you snapped your head up from where it rested on Frankie’s shoulder, “Santi…” you breathed, tears still fresh in your eyes, “I can explain,” you scrambled out of his arms and up to your feet.

Frankie followed right behind you, “Pope, I…” he started before he was interrupted.

“Wait,” you hissed to both of them, noticing the stares from the few patrons in the bar, “Can we take this outside?” You really did not want an audience.

Santiago remained tense, but looked around and nodded. In silence, the three of you slipped out and towards your brother’s truck for some privacy. The tension was palpable as you made your way out of the bar. Yet, Frankie still slid his hand in yours despite the glare from Santiago.

“Santi, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you blurted out, “We just…”

“How long?” Santiago cut you off with a simple question, “How long have you kept this from me?”

All the breath felt like it was punched out of your lungs and suddenly you realized why he was so angry. All your life, it had been just you and Santi; brother and sister alone in the world. You trusted each other with everything, and you were all each other had. This was the first time you kept something from him, and you noticed the hurt in his eyes that you felt like you had to hide this from him.

“A few months,” Frankie answered for you in a quiet voice.

Santiago let out a heavy sigh as his shoulders dropped and the tough person melted away. Putting his hands on his hips, he looked between the two of you, “And you couldn’t tell me this whole time?” his tone was softer than before, and the hurt was apparent. 

“Santi,” you started, taking a step forward, “I’m sorry.”

He glanced at you before he stepped past you and met Frankie face to face, “Will you take care of her?” he asked, “You’ll never hurt her?”

Frankie’s eyes softened, “Yeah,” he breathed, “I swear, man,” he continued, “I’d never do anything to hurt her,��� he paused, “I’m in love with your sister, man.”

The confession made both you and Santiago’s mouths drop open in surprise. “Frankie…” you gasped in a whisper from behind your brother.

Santiago recovered first, “Fuck, bro,” he smiled through the emotions, “Guess I can’t be too pissed at you… You did kick her ex’s ass pretty damn good.” He turned over his shoulder and smiled genuinely at you before turning back to Frankie, “Just don’t make out or do any of that shit in front me, ok?” he said, putting his hand on his shoulder. 

The relief showed on Frankie’s face as he too broke out into a smile. His hand landed on Santiago’s shoulder as you also sighed in relief behind them. “Deal,” he said before the two friends embraced.

Santiago turned to you and took you up in his arms, hugging you tightly.

“I’m sorry I kept this from you, Santi,” you whispered to him as you hugged him back.

Breaking away from the hug, he kept his hands on your forearms, “I get why you didn’t,” he said softly, “I can be a little much when it comes to my family.” He turned between you and Frankie, “How about we celebrate? Drinks are on me.”

“Do I have to make them?” you teased.

Santiago and Frankie both laughed as you all embraced each other. Your brother patted you both on the shoulder before he ushered you both to his truck. Frankie slipped his hand in yours, happy to finally be able to take your hand in public without the fear of getting caught. A new chapter in your lives was just starting, and finally everything was absolutely perfect. 

[innerfare]

Sabo’s Type 

Summary: A collection of random headcanons describing Sabo's type

Genre: Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

Sabo is such a show off, it’s no joke. It’s for this reason he has such a thing for a damsel in distress. He really enjoys the opportunity to flex his powers. (Flashback to Dressrosa arc and him swooping in to rescue Rebecca but leaving poor Bartolomeo lmao.) But he likes it even more if showing off doesn’t work, since it works on basically everyone else. 

Someone who is unimpressed, or at least initially hides it from him. Sabo lives for a challenge. While he loves it when people fawn over him, he’ll become a little obsessed with someone who shrugs at his dragon claw and fire fruit ability, who brushes off his pretty face and muscular body, who doesn’t care that he’s the second in command of the Revolutionary Army and is going to tell him exactly what they think of him.  

Someone with a voice like honey that makes him want to kick his habit of hanging up the transponder snail in the middle of the call and instead stay on the other line for hours listening to them talk about nothing. 

Someone powerful. Someone who can not only hold their own in battle so he doesn’t have to constantly worry about them but also someone who can spar with him. Someone who has undergone rigorous martial arts training and insists their style is more powerful than his dragon claw. Someone who triggers his competitive side. 

Someone who will make fun of him, even going so far as to poke fun of his heritage (without going too far). The odd joke about Sabo being a pampered aristocrat will get his blood boiling. He’s the type to ignore all the people fawning over him and go straight for the person who seems uninterested (side note: Sabo does not respect the ring; if you’re married and he wants you, he’s going for you). 

Someone with as much a reason to hate the World Government as he does, perhaps even more of a reason. Someone who wants to see the world burn. But also someone who starts out as his enemy, so maybe a marine or member of Cipher Pol with a traumatic backstory working as a double agent for the Revolutionary Army. 

Someone who likes his scars. He’s come to view them as a symbol of his failure to escape Goa on his own, and even as a symbol of the reason he couldn’t be there for his found family, so he doesn’t feel proud of them the way a warrior should. But if you’re proud of them, if you run your fingers over them, he’ll grin like a fool. 

Someone who is well read and a good enough writer to read his manuscript and offer feedback, someone who can edit some of the pages and offer him some direction when he’s not sure which direction to go in. Someone who agrees with his point of view on the subject matter (typically the corruption of the World Government) and can aid him in getting that across. 

Someone who makes him feel safe enough to ask for affection. Sabo isn’t really used to positive reinforcement. Though he received some once he joined the Army, a rough childhood without a drop of real softness has left him a little thirsty for someone to run their fingers through his hair while he vents about everything wrong in the world. 

Low-key has mommy issues, craves a woman who will make him food, take a bath with him, and tuck him into bed. Refuses to admit it, though. This folds into him craving a more feminine partner because he's been surrounded by so much roughness. One of his guilty pleasures is definitely crushing on the young noble women he's supposed to be usurping.

Someone who doesn’t hesitate to make his family their own, who falls right into the ranks of the Revolutionary Army and makes themselves at home with the Straw Hats (I think it goes without saying Sabo's SO has to have Luffy's stamp of approval). 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Good evening (or morning, afternoon, wherever u r) to you, Miss Raven, *tips hat* How do you do?

First of all, I was reading through the your canon Malleus romance analysis and i’ve just gotta say I love how you give a realistic approach to these characters and their world! 🙌🏻

But that also got me thinking, how would Leona prioritize his romantic vs royal life?

As second born prince, I wanna say Leona actually has more breathing room to pick whoever he wants as a partner (if the royal family doesn’t arrange a marriage before he gets that chance), plus, the Sunset Savanna’s next heir apparent is already born, so really there’s nothing worry about succession unless something happens to Cheka and or Falena. But at the same time Leona is still ridiculed by his people, so will that have any affect on who he wants to be with if he happens to choose someone other than another beast(wo)man or someone in a class lower than a noble?

And even tho he isn’t first in line for the throne, Leona is still royalty. I think he could pick a partner who is more private and less sociable with their life, but I also think they still might need to be prepared for the royal life, lack of privacy, speaking with the public, and other royal duties (even if Leona himself won’t do them).

TL;DR Do you think Leona’s status as second prince actually gives him a benefit for who he can pick as a romantic partner and how would the people’s view on him affect this, and what do you think would expected of Leona’s partner in the royal life even tho he’s not first in line for the throne?

What’s your take on this?

Related posts: Malleus / Kalim

Greetings 🎵 Life’s been a bit stressful lately, but I’m getting by! Busy planning something big for the blog too, so excited for that.

I think you must be talking about that post where I discussed what the expectations would probably be for Malleus’s future spouse? Thank you for the praise though! While anyone can ship themselves or their OC with Malleus in the latter, there’s certain in-universe logic that must be followed in the former. It feels very different to be a character in that world versus an outsider looking in. Being able to switch and see from those perspectives is important, I feel.

My thoughts on this topic aren't as concrete as what I laid out for my Malleus post, mostly because we don't know as much about Sunset Savanna's politics and since Leona isn't burdened by the same expectations as the crown prince or first in line to the throne. I feel like this post will be a lot of speculation, so just be cognizant of that.

As Leona is right now, I don't think he has much of an interest or an obligation to find someone. His focus seems to be on tending to himself and his own goals to help those around him, be it his juniors (Epel, Jack, Ruggie, etc.) or his country (due to his internship at a energy and mining lab). I definitely feel like that's where his priorities lie, and anyone he might take on as a life partner would also have to have a passion and dedication for this kind of service, whether they also engage in it or they at least support Leona's endeavors.

I also think that Leona would personally want an intelligent partner that's able to hold their own in a discussion, but only to a certain extent. Like, they have to be able to coherently express their own thoughts but I don't think he wants to deal with someone so stubborn that they constantly put up a fight with him if they happen to disagree. Leona has demonstrated multiple times that he finds it a hassle when people don't listen to him, so he tries to put himself in situations where he doesn't have to face that in the first place. For example, Leona states that he dislikes Silver and Rook, as they constantly act on their own and seem to disregard anything that others around them say. Additionally, he lacks a vice dorm leader because he made the conscious decision to not pick one, as he doesn't want someone challenging his decisions. Leona also strategically caves to his sister-in-law's demands to avoid wasting time and energy in an argument, since he knows that beastwomen tend to be strong-willed. His partner would have to know when to step back and give him space or when is not a good time to keep pressing a point. That means there'd be a certain element of emotional intelligence involved too, not just general wisdom or knowledge.

In these circumstances, I don't think there would be as much of an importance placed on the social status of Leona's spouse since he's like... what? Fourth in line to rule? His father is still alive, Falena/Farena is still fine, and Cheka's there too. The chances of Leona actually having to step up to that plate are low. There's no pressing need for Leona to find a partner or to produce an heir of his own. I don't recall there being lore about his older brother and sister-in-law having an arranged marriage or what social class his sister-in-law is from, so... there's not a lot to go off of there. I think, at the very least, we can assume there's not as much pressure for Leona to be in an arranged marriage since he isn't the crown prince. I don't get the sense that Sunset Savanna is as conservative with its social expectations as Briar Valley is, so it's doubtful whether or not the public would care about a royal marrying a commoner or a beastman marrying a non-beastman. To my latter point, there doesn't seem to be as strong of a racial divide between beastmen and humans (unlike fae and humans), so I don't think this would pose a major concern. But hey, maybe they do care a lot about status since Leona's flashback keeps harping on the importance of birth order--but that ultimately has no baring on the commoner versus royal thing. Maybe this is me being too much of an idealist, but I do think it would be possible for Leona's partner to come in and prove themselves, since their reputation (unlike Leona's) isn't already marred by being second in line to the throne and having a golden child to be compared to. If anything, I feel like the people would fear for the safety of Leona's spouse rather than what their "marrying outside of the norm" means for the country. Since there's a negative public view of Leona, I feel that this would translate into worry for the spouse rather than assuming they are "just as bad" as Leona. They're an outsider with a completely separate background from Leona's, and that I doubt that most people have the magic to rival his strength. Where would their fear of the spouse be reasonably coming from? I think the more likely situation would be the public feeling sympathy for the spouse (like, what if Leona's magic harms them) and wondering what they must see in the second-born prince. There might be a lot of gossip or concerns swirling around their courtship, little judgmental whispers and passing glances that are hard to avoid, maybe some hissed warnings to be careful around Leona, etc. The spouse should be careful how they react to public opinion though, as lashing out could make them be perceived as ill-tempered and crude, a poor reflection of both their own attitude as well as confirming preconceived notions of Leona. They should be equipped to handle socially complicated situations with grace and tact. When it comes to Leona, they should also be ready to provide him with some emotional support—not as a therapist he trauma dumps to or anything like that, but as a trusted and nonjudgmental confidant.

I think the spouse would receive the harshest scrutiny should they step into a more public-facing role… like if they started to enact or push for policies that go against the country’s reverence for nature and living in harmony with it. They would most certainly get pushback for it, maybe earn ire for not being “attuned” with its people. Leona’s spouse would, at the bare minimum, be expected to represent the values of Sunset Savanna and to engage in its ceremonies and traditions. For example, Leona—the second prince—is meant to train the winners of the Bead Brawl. Whatever royal duties are set for the spouses of the royal family… well, they should be prepared to fulfill them.

On the subject of privacy and sociability, it might actually be a drawback if Leona’s spouse were private and not sociable. Not being seen or interacting in public very often means people are left to their own devices and assumptions—and if Leona is the first person they associate with his spouse, it could lead to the public forming negative thoughts. "Oh, they're withdrawn because they don't care about us. Oh, they must be moody and hard to get along with." There’s a lot of earning trust that has to be done, especially if Leona intends to enact social reform, so I think it would make for better optics if his spouse really put themselves out there and was proactive in the community. Instead of framing themselves as a shut-away or some rando that married into the royal family, they have to be willing to step outside of their comfort zone and act like a leader if push comes to shove, show how outgoing and determined they can be.

Last thought I have on this matter I guess is related to how Leona’s loved ones would react. I don’t think the named characters would care about the details all too much?? Farena appears to respect his brother and treats him warmly, even when Leona brushes him off. He’d want Leona to be happy and at his best mentally and emotionally when and if he decides to help govern the country. And Cheka, well… maybe he’s a little too young to fully understand what’s going on, but I think he’d want his uncle to be happy too. I’d say even Kifaji would be on board with it, though perhaps not as openly as Farena or Cheka. He’s a stern older man, so I can absolutely see him scolding Leona and nagging him about his choice of partner—but in the way that a concerned grandparent would, you know? Not in an outright malicious way like the Briar Valley senators might. Unlike them, Kifaji can see the good in his prince and wants the best for him, even if he comes off as too overbearing at times. Kifaji doesn't unnecessarily act vitriolic or belittling to Leona, he states truths (that Leona acts improperly at times) and earnestly expresses his wish that Leona recognizes his own potential. He'll probably pull up to interrogate the spouse (because he cares that Leona marries someone who loves and values him), but ultimately give his blessings along with a plea for them to take good care of his second prince.

[chlerc]

soft spot ; lando norris

— summary; being his academic rival doesn’t justify why he’s got a soft spot for you, but he does. and he finds himself giving you everything you wanted and if he could.

pairing — academic-rival-lando norris! x f. reader ( third person story )

word count — 1361.

content — he’s sharing his study notes with you because he wants you to do as well as he does though he’s sure you don’t need his notes because you’re really smart, like smarter than him. got him wrapped around your finger too!!!

NAVIGATION + author’s note: surprise surprise, we got educated lando norris can you believe it?? i'm joking!! i just thought this would be a cute thing to write about, old situationship-ish-kinda inspired lolol

song recs for this fic — soft spot.

Lando sat at his usual spot in the library, the steady hum of muted conversation floating through the air as he lazily twirled his pen, his textbook sprawled open before him. He scribbled half-hearted notes on the margins, his mind far from the equations in front of him. Across from him, she sat with an air of quiet determination, eyes focused, every gesture deliberate as she effortlessly worked through the problem set. There was a certain grace in the way she moved, her concentration almost tangible, and he couldn’t resist the urge to break the silence.

“You’re staring,” she murmured, her voice low but tinged with amusement, though her eyes remained fixed on her work. The scratch of her pen was soft, almost rhythmic, as if even her distraction couldn’t break her focus.

He leaned back, a smug grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Just wondering how many hours you'll spend on that before you realise I’m still ahead of you in class.” Her gaze flicked upward then, sharp and challenging, a subtle gleam in her eyes. “In your dreams, Norris. I’m just letting you think you’re ahead, so you don’t feel too bad when I crush you in finals.”

Lando’s smirk deepened, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand. “Is that right? Because, if I remember correctly, I outscored you on the last mock exam.”

“By half a point,” she retorted smoothly, the gleam of competition still in her eyes, though a soft smile tugged at her lips. “And I was sleep-deprived.”

“Oh, of course,” he said, his voice laced with teasing. “Always an excuse with you.”

She arched an eyebrow, leaning back slightly as if conceding, though her expression told him otherwise. “Not an excuse — just facts. You should get used to it, because next time, you won’t even come close.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, but beneath the playful façade, there was something else. He enjoyed these moments far more than he’d ever admit — the way they pushed each other, a constant dance between rivalry and something more tender, something unspoken. The tension between them hummed with an energy that was undeniable, though he’d convinced himself it was merely competition. Yet, no one else made him feel quite like she did.

And after every other gruelling lecture, she would pull him along on yet another one of her spontaneous convenience store runs. He trailed a step behind her, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his expression one of mock reluctance.

“Do you really need something this time, or are you just dragging me out for the fun of it?” Lando’s voice was laced with faux exasperation, though his gaze softened as it lingered on her.

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, a knowing grin lighting up her face. “I like the company. Besides, I know you don’t mind.” His lips quirked into a smile he tried to hide. “I definitely mind,” he muttered, though his tone held no real conviction, and they both knew it.

“Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that,” she teased, her laughter ringing out softly as she reached for a snack on the shelf, tossing it into the basket. Her movements were effortless, as if these small, mundane moments were enough to make her day brighter. “You should be grateful I’m keeping you out of trouble. What would you even do without me?”

Lando leaned against the shelf, watching her with a smirk. “Probably live a quiet life. Go home, play video games in peace. Not have to deal with your very demanding schedule.” She laughed, a light sound that danced in the air between them. Nudging him with her shoulder, she shook her head. “Come on, you love it.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he replied, though the way his eyes lingered on her told a different story.

Later, on a night he would’ve sworn he’d never be caught in — under the dim lights of a club, with music vibrating through the walls — Lando found himself in his least favourite environment. The bass thrummed through the floor, and the crowd pulsed around him, but she was there, pulling him onto the dance floor with that irresistible smile.

“You really don’t dance, do you?” she teased, her voice barely audible over the music as she tugged him closer, her touch light but insistent. “I told you, I’m not a fan of this whole scene,” he muttered, his feet shuffling awkwardly, though his gaze never left her.

“And yet, here you are. For me,” she said, her smile widening as their bodies moved in sync, her laughter soft and sweet against the chaos of the music. He shook his head, feigning exasperation. “Only because you begged.”

“Begged?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she spun around, catching his gaze again. “Please, Norris, I didn’t beg. I knew you’d come.”

“And why’s that?” He has an eyebrow cocked up, smirk on his lips with his arms crossed. “Because you can’t say no to me.” Her voice was light, teasing, but the truth in her words hung between them, undeniable. He sighed, his hand slipping to rest on her waist, pulling her closer. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I know,” she replied, her voice dropping just slightly, her eyes locking onto his. “And you secretly love it.” Lando chuckled softly, though there was no denying the way his heart stuttered in his chest at her touch. “Yeah, okay. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

But even as he said it, there was something deeper. He didn’t want to admit how much she got under his skin, how much she’d already wrapped him around her finger. She was his academic rival, the one who always challenged him, pushed him — but she was also the only one who made him feel like this, the only one who could shift his world so effortlessly.

And yet, there were nights when his world felt like it was tipping too far. His workload piled up, deadlines looming, and he found himself cancelling their study plans more often than not. But one evening, after cancelling yet another one, he showed up to her seminar unannounced, determined to make up for lost time.

She spotted him as soon as the seminar ended, her brows knitting together in confusion as she walked over to him. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you have, like, a ton of work?” He shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, but I figured I’d spend time with you anyway.”

Her stern expression softened into something more amused. “You don’t have to come to my classes to prove a point, you know,” her hand running through his dirty brown strands. “I know.” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just… missed you.”

The teasing look in her eyes faltered for a second, replaced by something more tender, something unspoken between them. “Well, I missed you too, you idiot. But don’t think this gets you out of cancelling our last three study dates.” He laughed, pulling her into a gentle hug. “Fair enough. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’d better,” she replied, her face pressed against his chest, and for the first time in days, the weight on his shoulders felt just a little lighter. “Here’s the notes I collated from our recent classes.” He tosses her his notebook, decorated with sketches of different cars and though he never said it, sharing his notes with her was just a quiet way of showing her he cared. Because he had a soft spot for her.

But late at night, when the world fell quiet, Lando often found himself thinking of her, unable to sleep. She had become the constant in his life, the one who made him feel things he never thought possible. He didn’t want to fall in love — not really — but there she was, challenging everything he thought he knew. She didn’t ask for anything, but somehow, he found himself wanting to give her everything. 

And though he fought it, though he tried to convince himself that it was just rivalry, just competition — deep down, he knew. He was already hers.

[thehereticdiaries]

Secret's Out

This is a mini-fic based on the series "Secret Secret" by the lovely @hornyfor-redacted-onmain

I was awake at 4am the other night and in order to fall asleep I thought of a way that the reader gets exposed as an omega to the rest of the Stray Kids members!

ABO!OT8 x Reader

Warnings: Felix in distress, Minho gets pissed, Chan is losing it, cursing, abo dynamics, dubcon if you squint, Y/N used four times, probably incorrect assumptions about Korean hotels

You arrived at the first hotel of the tour feeling exhausted. The drive from Guangdong to Gangseo wasn’t necessarily long, but it was stressful nonetheless. Being squished in the backseat between Hyunjin and Jisung definitely wasn’t comfortable, but since you were smaller than the boys there wasn’t much of a choice.

The hotel was way fancier than any you’ve been to before. The lobby had a completely open floor plan, complete with marble tiles and floor to ceiling windows. You stood to the side while Chan and Soojin got everyone checked in. Thankfully it didn’t take long. You were dying to get to your room and flop down for a nap. Soojin handed out the key cards, and luckily you were rooming with Maya. 

Applying my scent blockers and pheromone perfume is gonna be a challenge, you thought as the elevator swiftly rose to the third floor. All of the stylists and staff members were on the third floor while the boys had rooms on the fifth. And the main reason for choosing this hotel: a fully equipped dance studio on the bottom level. It’s best not to wander too far since the boys could be easily recognized, even with masks and hats on. You and Maya quickly settled into the room. It was time for a quick 30 minute (or maybe 2 hour) nap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the third day at this hotel and you were working on translating more promotional posters on your laptop. Maya left hours ago to coordinate with the other stylists for tomorrow’s performance. You doubted she would be back before dinner. Your train of thought was interrupted by your phone buzzing. You had to dig around the blankets, but you found that it was Chan calling. Your eyebrows pinched together, confused by him calling in the middle of rehearsal.

“Chan? What-” you were cut off by the idol’s panicked breathing.

“Felix collapsed. Minho said it’s a subdrop, and none of our scents are bringing him back. I don’t know what to do, this is my fault!” You felt a rush of worry down your spine. A subdrop right after a heat meant Felix was in serious emotional turmoil. 

“I’m coming, I’ll be down in less than five minutes. Make sure Felix is comfortable and in a safe place,” you ordered. You didn’t give Chan the time to answer, opting to hang up and sprint toward the studio. You hesitated for a second at the elevators before slamming the door to the stairwell open. Your lungs burned as you ran down the stairs at top speed, sometimes skipping several steps at a time. 

“Where is he?” You shoved past Minho and Jeongin. Chan and Jisung knelt at Felix’s side. Fear and panic permeated the scents of every member, nearly overwhelming your keen sense of smell. 

“None of our scents are bringing him back. Not the alphas, not the betas.” Jisung choked on his tears. He locked into your gaze, eyes rimmed with red. 

“Y/N, is he going to be okay?” Chan practically begged you. He was obviously holding back his own emotions. He had to be strong for his pack. But he and his inner alpha were panicked and angry, not at Felix, at himself.

“I’ve seen this before. When I was at university, one of my classmates was an omega. He went into subdrop after an alpha harassed him all semester,” you lean down and check the younger omega for injuries. “Felix’s omega is rejecting alpha pheromones because it was an alpha that caused his turmoil.”

“How do we fix it?” Minho’s voice was strained. He didn’t like that he couldn’t help his packmate. 

“He needs an omega’s scent. That’s what got my classmate to wake up.” Your eyes darted around the studio. “Where’s Seungmin?!”

“Oh my god, he stayed in our room because he had a headache. He was planning to come down after lunch,” Jeongin said. “Should I go get him?”

“No. The longer Felix is in the drop, the harder it is to come out of it.” You gently brushed Felix’s bangs out of his eyes. You knew it would be up to you to help the whimpering omega. Your own omega was screaming at you to protect.

“Is he going to die?!” Jisung clapped his hand over his mouth. Panic surged through the air.

“No! Absolutely not.” You licked the scent glands on your wrist and aggressively rubbed at your neck’s glands. Luckily, you were only wearing the scent blocker. 

“What the hell are you… doing…” Minho trailed off as your real scent flowed through the air. You could feel everyone staring at you, but you focused solely on Felix. 

“Come on, Felix. Come back to us.” You held your wrist up to his nose. He didn’t move. You huffed in annoyance at the alphas crowding around you. 

“Back up! You’re making this more difficult with your alpha stink,” you snapped. Minho glared, but allowed Changbin to pull him back. Your scent was still partially blocked out, your wrist glands weren’t going to cut it. 

You moved to straddle Felix’s lap, pulling the blonde to sit up. The other boys made various sounds of shock at your boldness. You ignored them. You quickly pushed his nose into the crook of your neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You felt him take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. 

“Come on, sweet boy, come back,” you whispered into the crown of his head. Felix jolted. His fear filled eyes met with yours. Tears flooded his lash line.

“Omega?” Your heart clenched at the weakness in Felix’s voice. Your hands moved to cup his cheeks. Felix sobbed and buried his face into your neck again, squeezing your middle in a crushing hug. 

“It’s okay, Felix. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” You gently swayed and ran a gentle hand through his hair. Despite your own anxiety, you managed to keep your scent soothing. The younger omega nuzzled into your neck and cheek, scenting you out of instinct. You chuckled with a small shake of your head. You were beyond relieved that you were able to help. You pressed a small kiss to Felix’s scent gland to further calm the boy. 

“I- fuck, I need to step out,” Chan broke you from your stupor. He slammed the studio doors open and rushed out.

“I’ll go check on him,” Hyunjin followed the agitated alpha to the hallway. 

“Alphas are so dramatic,” you clicked your tongue. Felix giggled and pulled his head back. “Hey, there’s that pretty smile!”

“I’m sorry. Y/N, I’m so sorry I made you-” 

“Shh, Felix it’s okay. They were going to find out eventually. I’m just happy that you’re awake. My omega went nuts when Chan said you dropped.” You tucked Felix’s bangs behind his ear with a gentle smile.

“Uh, is this a bad time to say that this is really hot?” 

“Changbin!” You whipped your head around to scold the young alpha. “Yes, this is a very inappropriate time to say something like that.”

“Sorry! I’m sorry, but, I mean, look at you,” he gestured to your current position. “You’re sitting in Felix’s lap, his hands are on your thighs, and your scents are mixing in the most delicious way.” Felix flushed a deep red. 

“Bin, you made Felix uncomfortable!” Jisung joined you in scolding his bad behavior. 

“Do you want me to move?” You sighed, looking at the blushing omega.

“Y-yeah, as long as I can hold your hand. And keep your leg touching mine!” You sat criss-cross next to Felix, pressing your thigh into his. He squeezed your hand, and you returned the gesture. 

“Right, so Chan-hyung had to leave because he apparently couldn’t handle the smell of both omegas. He said that his alpha was going wild seeing Felix scent Y/N.” Hyunjin strolled back into the studio. Seungmin trailed in behind him with a cooling patch on his forehead.

“Jeongin, I got your text. Is everything okay?” He paused, sniffed at the air, and rushed up to you and Felix, grinning widely. The youngest omega plopped down behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his forehead on the back of your neck.

“I thought you were a beta! This is so cool, we have another omega,” Seungmin gushed, although his voice was muffled by your t-shirt. He sighed happily. “Your and Felix’s scents are helping my headache way better than any aspirin.”

“Awe, I’m glad I could help,” you cooed. You reached a hand behind you to run a hand through Seungmin’s bedhead. 

“Why did you lie about your presentation?” Minho’s sharp voice broke the serene moment between the three omegas. Your hand dropped to your lap. 

“I’m sorry I lied to you, but it was necessary. Working as a translator for JYP has been my dream job for forever.” You looked up at the alpha. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

“JYP doesn’t hire omegas. So you lied, used scent blockers, and an artificial scent to pretend to be a beta? To get a job?” You bristled at the accusatory tone in Minho’s voice. 

“Yes, I did. And I’d do it again.” Minho pressed his lips into a thin line. He was annoyed, angry, but most of all defensive over his packmates. 

“Does Chan know?” Changbin cut in, worry evident in his voice. 

“Yeah, he knows,” you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. 

“And how is it that Chan and Felix know, but the rest of us are left in the dark?” Minho once again took the reigns of the impromptu interrogation. Felix’s jaw tensed. He glared at the floor. You could tell that he was embarrassed about the real way you and Chan met, and how he learned your secret. 

“Felix actually caught me first,” you started. The blonde’s eyes snapped up to yours. “He saw me at a cafe without the scent blockers and perfume. I explained everything, and Felix promised to keep my secret as long as Chan was aware.” You knew you shouldn’t have lied again, but the relief that washed over Felix negated the guilt bubbling in your stomach.

“I understand if you want to report me to management,” you sighed. You figured this would happen at some point, but the disappointment hit hard.

“NO!” You jumped when Felix and Seungmin yelled and tightened their hold on you. “We are absolutely not reporting her.”

“Felix, she lied. Why would you want her as our staff member?!” Minho shook his head in disbelief. 

“I don’t want to report her, either, hyung. She’s really nice, a great translator, and her scent is so comforting.” You were honestly surprised that Seungmin was arguing in your defense. You thought he hated you. Minho’s gaze flickered between the two omegas of the group. Neither backed down, meeting his gaze with steely determination.

The staring contest was interrupted by the studio door opening again. Chan ran a hand over his face.

“Sorry I left. Is Felix okay?” Chan nearly choked on his own spit as he took in the scene before him. His two omegas, cuddled up to you. All three of your scents mixed together. If he thought his alpha was intense before, he was going into absolute overdrive now.

“Fuck!” He cursed and pressed his hands into his eyes before dropping them to his sides. He drank in the sight of the three omegas. He stalked forward, eyes predatory. You could practically feel his alpha pushing to the surface. You subtly moved in front of the younger omegas, your instincts screaming at you to protect them. Chan got too close for your omega’s liking and you growled, slightly baring your teeth. 

“Did you just growl at me, omega?” He scoffed. The attitude switch from calm and protective leader to predator left the younger omegas and the betas on edge. You felt the boys cling onto you tighter. Your instinct to listen to the alpha clashed with your instinct to protect your juniors. 

“You think you can intimidate me by using my title?” You sneered at him. The muscle in his jaw twitched in agitation. “Pull your shit together, Chan. You are scaring them!” Chan finally seemed to realize that most of his pack was tensed, ready to fight or flee when he made a move.

“Jisung, Hyunjin, Jeongin. Take them back to Y/N’s room.” Chan said through gritted teeth. The three betas hesitated. “Now!”

“Chan-”

“Save it, Changbin. They need to get the omegas out of here while I still have control of my alpha. It’s taking all of my willpower to keep him back from forcing her to submit.” Your eyes widened in shock. 

“Get up, we’re leaving.” You stood, dragging the boys still glued to your side to their feet. The betas walked between the omegas and Chan, eyeing their leader wearily. You lead the group up to your room, pulling Felix and Seungmin in behind you.

“We’ll make sure the alphas, especially Chan, calm down. Keep them safe, please,” Hyunjin’s voice was tired. You exchanged strained smiles before closing your door. You sighed heavily. The younger omegas looked at you with wide eyes. 

“You wanna make a cuddle puddle and nap?”

[waywardchaos3]

Satoru Gojo Kiss Prompt: Back From The Dead

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Prompt(s): “You came back./…” “I promised, didn't I?” + Returned From The Dead Kiss

Rating: Angst with some Fluff

Warning(s): This story contains some manga spoilers, but since I have not read the JJK manga or seen s2 at the moment, it's not totally accurate... I just hope you all enjoy it as this story isn't super specific to the prompts but it's the same idea, yeah?

WC: 1,926

Main Masterlist

A/N - This is yet another story of mine that was inspired by a fic written by another amazing writer here on Tumblr! It was inspired by this fic by the amazing @just-jordie-things!

*I will definitely have to make another story like this that is more based on the events of the manga and the anime when I get the chance too, so stay tuned for that!*

It had been weeks since your long-time boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, had been sealed in that damn box.

The world around you fell into chaos in a matter of minutes since word had got out that the great Satoru Gojo was in the prison realm.

Curses and Curse users seemed to crawl out of the shadows and the depths of hell itself to celebrate his removal from this plane.

Every day there's a new challenge just to keep up with exorcising all of the curses that came out of hiding.

There aren't many jujutsu sorcerers left...

So many have decided to or were forced to retire...

So many have died...

With that being said, there are only a few of you left who can fight this fight.

You included, even though you'd instead go straight after Geto for doing this to Satoru and putting you and so many others through this.

Not only do you have to deal with your desire to go after Geto and fight against curse users and powerful cursed spirits, but you also have to deal with the weight of fear you're carrying, not knowing of his well-being.

Is he even still alive in there?

You hope so...

You've also wondered if he's okay or if he's hurt so many at this point...

You know that time works differently in the prison realm, but that's all you know about it.

The box was supposed to be a rare object, but Suguru Geto had somehow found it and used it with such ease to seal Gojo inside.

Will he ever return?

You don't know for sure, but you hope that if you and the others can get your hands on the box and find a way to unseal him, your hope would be restored.

Thinking about Satoru and Geto being the one who had sealed him away as much as you have been ever since he was sealed into the box causes your mind to be occupied with anxiety for you to patrol the area you were asked to properly.

Your teeth grit together roughly as the thought of Geto being the one behind Satoru being sealed away in that box, your eyes currently focused on a rather rowdy group of teenagers messing around on the other side of the street near an alleyway, distracted.

Your feelings about Geto, who had once been a very close friend of yours, have always complicated, especially after he had reportedly killed his family and went on to slaughter hundreds of non-sorcerers...

You've struggled so much with the way you miss him, too.

No matter what he seems to do or what heinous acts he commits, some nights, you still cry yourself to sleep because you wish that things could go back to the way they were.

On most of those nights, Satoru sat awake with you, comforting you as you wept and reminisced about the good old days when you, Satoru, Shoko, and Geto were friends and would hang out and also go on missions together.

Satoru had spent hours combing his fingers through your hair, cooing softly about how he missed those days, too.

And now that you're here, Satoru is sealed away, and Geto is to blame; it's as though all of your feelings have become crystal clear.

You HATE Suguru Geto!

You hate who he's become.

You hate that he let himself take such a dark path.

You hate that he betrayed you, Satoru, Shoko, and jujutsu sorcerers everywhere.

Right now, though, you mostly hate him for what he did to Satoru.

When it comes to Satoru, though... you love Satoru Gojo.

You had known him since the two of you were very young children. You became close friends with him, which stayed that way until you got into high school when he asked you to be his girlfriend.

You had been dating ever since.

And even with Satoru sealed away, you love everything about him.

Not sensing any cursed spirits or cursed energy in general, you huff, deeming the area safe for now before starting your trek back to the apartment.

Walking home, you think about how long you've tried to remain positive.

For your students.

For the other sorcerers.

Being the closest to Satoru, you know that you have to put on a brave face and ensure everyone that hope is not entirely lost, that at the end of the day, everything will be okay, and good will triumph because that's how it's supposed to be.

You are feeling hopeless, though, and you've been carrying those feelings since that day in Shibuya when Itadori told you that Satoru had been sealed away.

You remember every second of your short interaction with him that day.

His wide eyes, his shaky voice, the way he had asked you what that meant, and then the look he had given you as he looked to you for guidance on how to help with the situation.

In response, you had sent him off rather quickly to help at the bus station, but truthfully, you just needed him gone so he couldn't see your entire foundation crumbling.

And then came the deaths of your friends... your students... and people you had fought alongside your whole life...; they all began piling up, and you couldn't help but feel hopeless...

What else was there to feel, though?

The man whose mere existence was supposed to put all of this at ease was gone, and now, with how long he's been sealed away, you're starting to think he'll never come back.

Cold raindrops hit your face just as you reach your apartment building.

You consider yourself lucky to have made it to your apartment building before the storm started, but the weight of your anguish squashes such positive emotion.

It's only a matter of time before you're killed too, you think bitterly, more irritated by the notion than afraid.

You know that you're getting reckless, as many of the others who are still fighting the fight have told you.

You're running on little to no sleep... Barely eating anything, which means your energy is always low.

In fact, the last few curses you'd had to exorcize were low enough in grade that you considered yourself lucky, but you knew that if you were to run into a grade one- or a special grade- you'd be lucky if your death is quick and painless.

"What am I going to do?" you mutter to no one and nothing in particular as you dig in your pocket for your keys, ready to enter the building and just go to bed and sleep—or at least try to.

As you're about to enter the building, you realize that the rain seems to have stopped, as you no longer feel the chilly wet drops hitting your skin.

'I could've sworn that the skies were overcast just a minute ago,' you ponder before tilting your head back to look up at the night sky.

Sure enough, the stars aren't visible, and the sprinkle had turned into a full-on downpour.

Even though you're now paying attention to the storm, hearing the distant rumbles of thunder, curiously, you remain dry.

You're not under an awning, and you don't have an umbrella, so you're not sure what's causing this phenomenon.

Your brows furrow in confusion as you stretch your hand out in front of you, reaching as far as you can, and to your surprise, you remain dry.

"What the hell?" you mumble as you look down at the pavement around you.

You can see a clear line before you, where the raindrops are pelting the pavement just in front of your feet.

You've seen and witnessed many weird things in your life as a jujutsu sorcerer, but this has to be the most peculiar thing you have ever seen.

You do a slow 360° turn, and just as you thought, the pavement underneath you is dry.

That's when you notice something strange when you turn away from your apartment building's door.

The dry patch of pavement stretches out another ten or so feet and clings around another figure.

As you look up at the figure, the air gets knocked out of your lungs as you see the familiar head of white hair, causing you to sputter for a second as tears sting your eyes.

"Satoru." you whimper out before running towards him at full speed.

As you reach him, you crash into him, clearly knocking the air out of him.

After stumbling back a few steps from the impact, his strong arms wrap around you, and he's holding you tightly against his chest.

"Oh my god... Satoru..." you gasp out as you cling to him tightly, with your arms around his neck and your legs wrapping around his hips to keep yourself in place, your hands getting lost in his pure white hair as you have your face buried in the crook of his neck.

"I know, sweetheart... I know..." he breathes gently against your neck as his own hands are lost in your hair, breathing in your familiar scent he'd damn near forgotten.

When you finally pull away from him, it's only for a moment, just long enough to see Satoru's pretty face, seeing that it's unharmed, which fills you with relief before your hands grab the collar of his t-shirt as you tug him against you so fast that your lips slam together.

This kiss is messy, your teeth clashing with his, both of you panting so hard that it's challenging to kiss properly, but you don't care about that one bit.

Just a minute ago, you were so sure you'd never seen him again, but now that he's here with you, you'll take any scrap of closeness you can get.

He has one arm wrapped under your legs to help support you, while the other tangles in your hair, pulling you back while he gasps for breath.

You let go, gasping for breath. "Oh my god, you're here, you're real, you-you're alive..." you whimper as you press your forehead against his, your hands cupping his face. "You came back...”

“I'm alive." he nods against your forehead, his lips brushing yours again.

"I promised, didn't I?"

That's right. Itadori mentioned that before he was sealed in the box completely, Satoru had told Itadori to tell you that he promised to return to you, no matter what and no matter how long it took.

"I'm here; I'm home," he says before giving you a long, deep kiss.

He lets go a few moments later, and you look him straight in the eyes.

"I thought-" you choke on your burning throat. "I thought you were gone, I thought- I thought I'd never see you again..."

You're tearing up again, the weight of your emotions confusing you, but you still muster a smile as you look at him. "I thought I lost you..."

"Oh, baby," he sighs, setting you down on your feet so that he can wipe your tears away. You didn't lose me; I'm right here." He assures you, and you nod, leaning into the warmth of his palm. And I'm not going anywhere, never again, okay?"

You nod back at him, shutting your eyes as you relish in the comfort of his presence.

Now that he's back with you, you can finally get your life back on track and end what's been happening with Sukuna and Geto.

Right now, though, all you want to do is stay wrapped up in his embrace, which is what you will do.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up Anniversary challenge.

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Prompt: Anniversary | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Future Fic, Eddie Munson Lives, Or Did He?, He Definitely Did Right?, A Glitch in the Matrix, Shifted Timelines, Parallel Universes, Sliding Doors

"What are you doing?" Eddie asks sleepily. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the familiar shape of Steve crossing along the foot of bed, heading towards the window. 

That isn't unusual. If Steve hears a siren, or a dog barking, anything, he crawls out of bed and heads to the window to look. But tonight, Eddie hadn't heard anything. 

"Huh?" Steve responds, from bed, next to Eddie.

Eddie looks again, expecting to see Steve bent over at the waist, looking out the window, but there's nothing there. Instead, Steve's in bed, and has clearly been asleep.

Eddie swallows. Maybe he was dreaming, "Sorry. I think I was dreaming," he says, hoping he can convince himself of that. He looks at the alarm clock on the nightstand, and it's just after three.

Steve chuckles, voice rough with sleep, and pulls the comforter up over his shoulder.

Eddie thinks, weird. 

But then it continues happening. 

All day, he's felt like there's someone just out of his line of sight, and that person seems a whole lot like Steve. Eddie isn't scared, per se. He's unnerved, for sure, but it feels like Steve. Not a ghost or a demon, or anything sinister. 

It's just like a second version of Steve is moving around the house, dancing along his peripheral vision, and Eddie is forced to only observe. 

It's not until later that he realizes the date: March 27th, 2006. 

It's the anniversary of his near death in the Upside Down. That can't be a coincidence. That's the day he was sure he was dying, if not already dead, and then he suddenly wasn't. The bites weren't that bad. All superficial. He barely even needed any medical attention at all.

Dustin had overreacted.

And, yeah, it felt hazy at first, but they all just blamed it on the stress and adrenaline he'd been pumped full of. Blamed it on the near death experience that wasn't actually that near death at all.

And now, he's seeing an echo, a ghost, of someone very much alive. 

There's a glitch in the matrix. 

Like when you see two people, strangers, on public transportation wearing the exact same shirt, sitting one row in front of the other. Only, Eddie's seeing Steve. A different version of Steve.

Eddie does a deep dive on the internet. Decides it's not a glitch in the matrix at all. Instead, he's pretty damn sure he's shifted timelines from the one where he died, to this new one where he didn't, and now they're bleeding together. All these years later.

Steve listens, patiently, and then kisses him on the top of the head, "Honey, I was there. You lived. I promise. 'Twas barely a scratch."

Eddie nods. 

Of course. Of course that's true. 

But he thinks maybe the other outcome was true, too.

Shadow Steve is getting more vibrant, and now Eddie can follow him around the house. Not really able to look at him straight on, but if he keeps the corner of his eye trained in his direction, he can see him for longer stretches.

He's the same, but different. 

Quieter, sadder. More alone. 

And there's no Eddie there. Eddie is 100% sure of that. 

He's gotta do something about this.

Eddie's sitting outside of Nancy's office when she comes out of the door.

"Eddie!" she says, surprised, but happy to see him. He's about to rain all over her parade.

"I'm dead. I'm in the wrong timeline," he says, and her face falls. She reaches out, and puts her hand on his forearm.

"C'mon," she says, and he gets in her car, and looks down at his hands.

"What's going on?" she finally asks.

"I'm seeing Steve, in the house," he explains, and she raises an eyebrow, and he laughs, "Not that Steve. Not my Steve. But he's there, too. He's good," he promises. Because he knows she'll worry.

"Start from the beginning," she urges, and he does. Telling her everything.

"It's just a glitch in the matrix," she assesses, and he shakes his head.

"It's not. It's too frequent. It wasn't a one and done deal. It wasn't a trick of the light, or a shadow. He's there. Just outta my sight. Like he's in a parallel universe."

"And you're sure it's Steve? Not something Upside Down-related?"

"It's Steve. I'm not scared of him. Because it's Steve."

Nancy follows him all the way back to Hawkins, then sits on the bed beside him. 

"Eddie," she says, and he shushes her. Taking her cheeks, forcing her to look in the direction he wants. It doesn't take long.

"There!" Eddie says, and Nancy gasps. 

Fuck. He was kinda hoping he was just losing his mind.

"You can see him?" he asks.

"I can see him. Barely. Out of the corner of my eye. It's definitely Steve."

Eddie sighs, "Told you. What the fuck do I do now?"

Steve can't see him. Eddie can. Nancy can. Robin can. Dustin can.

But, Steve? He just can't.

Nancy thinks it's because it is Steve. The same Steve. Just minding his own business in another timeline, that's now somehow bleeding into theirs. 

"Do you think this is lingering weirdness from the Upside Down?" Eddie asks.

"If it is, we should get El," Dustin suggests, and they all agree.

El takes one look at him, "That is Steve."

"Yes, we're aware," Eddie says, "how do we merge the two?"

"You cannot."

"Can we at least close the damn curtains?" Eddie doesn't want to keep seeing this Steve.

El thinks about that, "Maybe."

She forces Steve to hold her hands, and while reluctant, he's willing. For Eddie.

It's quiet, then Steve says, "Oh, whoa. That's me." Then, "Tingly."

And Shadow Steve fades away. Disappearing, like he'd never been there.

"Is he okay?" Eddie asks. He doesn't want any version of Steve to disappear. 

"Yes. Now you cannot see him. Not gone, just invisible again."

"Out of sight, out of mind?" Eddie asks. 

She nods, "Exactly."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

[live-laugh-legolas]

I’m primarily interested in the fellowship, but I would love to hear your thoughts on anyone else as well on

1. The weirdest non-food item each character has eaten

2. Why they ate it (thought it was something else? Dare?)

3. Would they do it again

This is so Pippin coded. This was too fun

Eating non-edible items

Aragorn:

1) A bite from a foam football

2) He was a feral child

3) He wouldn’t swallow it again but he would bite again

Legolas:

1) Fake grapes

2) Thought they were real

3) Yes because he still thinks they were real

Gimli:

1) Silica gel packets

2) The “do not eat” is clearly a challenge and he’s no chump

3) No. He seriously regrets it and won’t admit he ever tried

Boromir:

1) Poisonous berries

2) He saw Legolas eating them

3) Never again; Legolas was fine but Boromir couldn’t stop shitting for a week

Frodo:

1) Sand and mud

2) Good texture and abundant

3) Possibly

Sam:

1) Playdough

2) Listen; he made pretend burgers and obviously he had to try them

3) Absolutely. Might not like it much anymore but it tastes like childhood

Merry:

1) Electrical chords

2) He didn’t eat it but he chewed right through it on a dare

3) Will try to get them again saying the “zap was thrilling” but no one lets him near chords anymore

Pippin:

1) Do any of you remember that blue tack they used in school to pin up posters? He would eat that shit

2) Because he was the kid that put everything in his mouth

3) He wouldn’t eat it now but he does reminisce about it like it was a delicacy

Gandalf:

1) Urinal cake… unused

2) He saw it in a store and it has cake in the name so obviously he had to try it. Didn’t realize it wasn’t actually cake.

3) He finished it out of stubbornness but will never do it again

Faramir:

1) Pink wall insulation

2) Hoped his dad would care and stop him Thought it was cotton candy

3) No

Denethor II:

1) Bleach

2) Idk who…wasn’t me…but he was poisoned

3) No because he’s dead

Gollum:

1) I was going to say babies but they technically are edible…

2) Do we need a why?

3) Definitely. Bringing your kid around him is like those people who walk their tiny dogs by gator ponds

[koralinewrites]

Could you please do a Subaru and Ayato 60 headcanons, please? I liked Laito ones a lot.

Hey! Sorry this took a WHILE- I only have Ayato’s done right now, so I’ll definitely tag you in Subaru’s when I (eventually) get his done! Hope you enjoy!

60* Ayato Headcanons

*ish

Listens to MSI

Stupid best friend vibes

“Only I can bully them” with his brothers

Hits, flicks, smacks, etc. people as a sign of affection

Favorite color is red, duh

Both can be read like a book and is good at masking, somehow-

Very smart actually

Only for things he wants to be smart about though

Borderline dyslexic

Paints his nails every now and then 

Either black or dark red

Is ALWAYS making noise, whether that be tapping his fingers, his foot, humming, anything that makes any slight noise

Speaking of humming, he always hums HIS songs

If he’s not making noise, he’s fidgeting

Fiddling with his fingers, rubbing circles into his thumbs, playing with his clothes, etc.

Very adhd coded

Though it could easily be anxiety as well

Drinks alcohol even though he can’t get drunk from it

Sometimes challenges fellow students to drinking competitions and uses that to win

During basketball, can get distracted by the cheerleaders with bigger tits if the uniforms are revealing

Wants other piercings, like on his lip or nose

Believed in Santa Claus WAY longer than he should have

Actually really likes summer and the sun

The one thing he hates about being a vampire is that the sun hurts his vision

Otherwise he’d be outside in the sun almost all day every day

Has the lightest eyes of the brothers, and they shine bright in the sun

Back to his songs, he helps his brothers write theirs every now and then

Actually somewhat good at cooking

Now… baking is a different thing

Banned from the oven by Reiji

Actually has NO sense of style (mr. one pant leg 😭)

Dresses like Adam Sandler most of the time

Very affectionate person

Always touching his S/O in some way

Holding their hand, bumping knees, hand on thigh

Stupid teenager when in love

Does whatever he can to impress them

Might get with a guy, depends on the guy

Has thought about it

Hasn’t tried it yet

Hehe time for angst-

Still has nightmares of drowning

Sometimes just the sound of water sets him off, depending on his mental state

Genuinely is really worried about Laito’s and Kanato’s mental and physical health

Knows that his trauma was just as bad as theirs, but doesn’t feel like it all the time

Picks the skin around his nails and bites them

That’s why he started to paint his nails; to stop that habit

Hates himself for not being able to help Laito (even though he was a child-)

Forgives people really easily

Even if they were absolutely horrible to him

Doesn’t try in school as a subconscious rebellion against his mother (even though she’s dead-)

Doesn’t hate his brothers at all

Sure they can be annoying

But if he had to save either his life or his brothers…

He’d pick them

Wants to be closer to his brothers than he is now

Like back when they were children

Reminisces on that time when he’s alone

Sometimes cries because of how much he misses that feeling of closeness

Has both a superiority complex and an inferiority complex

Definition of “Oh No!” by Marina and the Diamonds

[captainsophiestark]

Naval Wedding

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Top Gun

Summary: Phoenix needs a fake date to a Naval wedding to avoid sailors hitting on her all night, so who better to ask than her best friend?

Word Count: 2,925

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I have a favor to ask you."

I sighed dramatically, making a show of pulling my attention from my laptop to my best friend, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, who sat across the table from me. She held her coffee mug with both hands and stared intently at me. Clearly, whatever she was about to say next had been on her mind for a bit now.

"It's something I need you to help me out with, if you don't mind. And if you're not busy."

I raised an eyebrow, closing my laptop and leaning across the table to match Natasha's posture.

"Okay, spit it out, Nat. You've never danced around something the way you're doing right now the entire time I've known you. What's wrong?"

Nat took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, then met my eyes with a new determination.

"I need you to be my fake date for a Navy wedding next weekend."

Honestly, I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting her to say, but it definitely wasn't that. The corner of my mouth quirked up in a smile, and I had to work to hold back a laugh.

"Nat... first of all, I'm in." Her shoulders immediately relaxed, the dire look on her face morphing into one of relief as she eaased back in her chair. I shook my head, still smiling. "Second, you seriously need to work on your delivery. I thougth you were about to ask me to help you hide a body."

Her eyebrow shot up.

"You thought I prefaced asking you to hide a body with 'if you don't mind' and 'if you're free'?"

I just shrugged and waved her off. "You were crazy grim and looked more stressed than I've ever seen you. I didn't think the favor was gonig to involve a party. Which brings me to third: why? I'm happy to go with you, but I'm a little surprised you're asking."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "You know I work with a lot of men. Most of them are fine. Some of them are great. Some of them I want to punch in the nose sometimes. But at big Navy weddings, there's always tons of pilots I'm not familiar with, and at least a few of them always try to hit on me. This time, I don't want to deal with it. So... fake date."

I grinned. "Natasha Trace. Are you telling me that I get to scare off Naval Aviators all night if they try to hit on my girlfriend?"

Natasha grinned and shook her head with a laugh. I waited until she faced me again, then raised an eyebrow since she still hadn't answered my question.

"Alright, sure. You get to scare off anybody who flirts with me, any way you want to."

"Amazing."

****************

The next weekend, I stood in front of the mirror adjusting my outfit nervously while I waited for Natasha to arrive. We were meeting at my house, then driving over together.

When I'd told her I'd be happy to go as her fake date to this wedding, it had been a partial lie. I'd been wrestling with some feelings for my best friend since a few months ago, and I wasn't completely thrilled about the "fake" part of "fake date". When my doorbell finally rang and I opened the door to find Natasha looking like an absolute knockout, my heart did a few backflips before breaking in half as I remembered that she wasn't actually here for a real date.

"Wow," she said, sounding a little breathier than normal as she looked me up and down. "You look great."

"Me? Nat, you look stunning. Like, wow."

Nat looked up and met my eyes with a smile.

"Well, then I guess we make a good pair."

My heart did another flip, so I took a deep breath and stepped through the door to join Nat on the porch before she could give me a heart attack.

"Those Navy boys won't know what hit 'em," I declared, holding my arm out for Nat. She took it with a grin, and we headed for the car arm in arm. My heart skipped a couple beats at the proximity, and I did my best to tell it to shut up.

It mostly listened throughout the wedding ceremony. When we got to the venue, we got some looks and some raised eyebrows, especially from Natasha's closest Navy friends, who she apparently hadn't told about her plan. I got to ditch Hangman to cross the room and chase off a more tangentally-invited pilot who'd been hitting on Nat, which had been a highlight of the night so far, especially as she leaned into my side and I wrapped an arm around her. Unfortunately, we didn't get to linger, since we had to take our seats for the wedding itself.

It was beautiful, and thankfully, didn't stretch on too long. Before I knew it, we were heading to the reception, throwing a few of Nat's aviator friends in the back of the car to get to the venue hosting the reception. We blasted music, laughed, and I even got up the courage to reach out and take Nat's hand while she drove. She turned to me with a grin and squeezed my hand back, and I tried not to let my imagination run away from me about whether that might mean something.

We pulled into the venue, and Natasha immediately took my hand in hers. I bumped my shoulder into hers, and we shared a grin as we flowed through the doors with the rest of the wedding guests. The music was already blasting, and people were floating around and snacking while we waited for the bride and groom to arrive with the rest of the wedding party. Nat's friends went ahead of us as she stopped, turning to me with a smile.

"Alright, what's first? Food or drinks?"

"Hmm... I know the guests of honor aren't here yet, but what about dance floor?"

She laughed. "Okay, drinks it is. If you actually want to pull me out there, I'm going to need more than just water in my veins."

"I don't think the alcohol actually goes into your veins-"

"You know what I mean! Come on, I'll get you your favorite. On me."

"Isn't it an open bar?"

"And isn't it the thought that counts?"

I laughed, letting Natasha pull me along and through the crowd, trailing after her with a happy smile. When she came to a stop at the bar, tugging me up to stand next to her, I had to fight very hard against the urge to lean in and kiss her, then and there. I swallowed, but managed to get a hold of myself and respond to her instead.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's the thought that counts."

Nat and I ate the snacks and chatted with her close friends while we waited for the couple to arrive, and then for the party to really start. Dinner was delicious, the toasts were sweet, and not long after the last one finished, the dance floor officially opened for business.

I turned to Nat, intending to make good on my answer of what I first wanted to do when we got here, but I found her facing in the other direction as some guy in a suit smiled down at her, one of his hands resting on the back of her chair. I narrowed my eyes.

He didn't notice me, he was too focused on Nat. I knew she was more than capable of telling him to get lost on her own, but I also knew that the main reason she'd asked me to be her date at all tonight was to avoid dealing with clowns like these. I stood and walked around to stand next to him, pushing my way into the spot between him and the table and holding a hand out to Nat.

"Hey, babe," I said, smiling at Nat without sparing a glance for the guy. "You ready to hit the dancefloor?"

She grinned back at me in sync with the guy beside me saying "Babe?" as a clear question directed at me. I turned to face him like I had all the time in the world, keeping a straight face as I met his eyes.

"Yeah. That's generally what I call my girlfriend. You got a comment about that?"

The guy blanched, taking a half step back and removing his arm from the back of Natasha's chair.

"Uh... no. Sorry."

"Don't apologize to me, she's the one who had to put up with some random guy trying to put moves on her."

The guy scowled, but he muttered a quick apology to Natasha all the same before heading off into the crowd again. I watched him go, then turned to Nat with the massive grin I'd been holding back the whole time.

She shook her head, mirroring my grin all the same.

"You have way too much fun doing that."

I shrugged. "Maybe. But you don't have any fun doing it for yourself, so this seems like by far the best option."

"I guess I can't argue with you there."

"You're right, you can't. Now come on, I want to dance with my girlfriend. Let's get out there."

My heart hammered in my chest at my own words, worried that I'd overstepped, even in the context of a group in public for our fake-date situation. But Natasha just smiled at me again, softer this time, and took my hand.

"Fine. I guess I'm tipsy enough for this. Barely."

I laughed, pulling her out onto the dancefloor behind me. Tipsy or not, I usually enjoyed making a fool of myself on the dancefloor, and it turned out to be even better with Nat's hand in mine, the two of us spinning in and out of each other's arms.

The rest of the wedding party disappeared as we lost ourselves in the music, just the two of us, breathing hard between laughs and holding each other tightly. Eventually, the music wound down from the high-energy stuff we'd been listening to, shifting to something made for slow dancing. We stuttered to a stop on the floor as couples flocked in all around us, and I looked at Nat.

She shrugged, stepping closer to me and putting her hands on my waist.

"We're supposed to be a couple too, right?"

I grinned back at her. "Damn right."

I laid my arms across Nat's shoulders and the two of us swayed back and forth on the dancefloor, the low lights sweeping over us as we moved. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, and the corner of her mouth lifted up like she'd noticed. Slowly, she leaned in, and my heart just about stopped in my chest. She rested her forehead against mine, and I sighed, half content to stay here like this with her as long as she wanted, half disappointed she hadn't been going in for a kiss.

When the music of the slow dance faded, we just stayed where we were for a long moment before finally pulling away from each other. I opened my mouth to say something, although I wasn't totally sure what yet, but before either of us got the chance to speak the music picked up again, and her closer aviator friends swarmed us on the dancefloor.

"I can't believe you got Phoenix out to dance!" called Fanboy, grinning as he threw one arm over her shoulder, jumping up and down to the beat. Natasha tried to duck his arm, presumably to ditch the dancefloor, but Fanboy knew her well enough that he managed to stop her. I gave them a half-hearted smile, then took the opportunity myself to slip away from the crowd.

I knew Nat probably would've wanted me making up a girlfriend excuse to get her out of there. Normally I would've helped her, but that moment on the dancefloor before her friends showed up had felt so real, and I needed to take a moment to remind myself that it wasn't.

I ducked and weaved through the crowd with relative ease, since only Nat's close friends would've recognized me and they were all out on the dancefloor. I made my way to the bar, not even ordering, just leaning against it for a second. Enough other people hovered around that it'd be hard to spot me amongst the crowd, but I could still see Nat out on the dancefloor, laughing and smiling even as she shook her head and tried to tell her friends to get lost.

I was in love with her. Her attitude, confidence, strength, wit. The way she smiled at me when I said something funny or called Hangman "Bagman" even though I barely knew him and had no reason (other than loyalty to Nat) to use the nickname. I was in love with her, and I had been for a long time, but after tonight, I wasn't going to be able to ignore it anymore. This night had been a mistake.

"Hey! You want a drink?"

I reluctantly turned to face the person shouting in my ear only to find Rooster, one of Natasha's best friends, leaning over to talk to me, his shirt unbuttoned and his tie around his head.

"Uh... that's okay," I said. "I think I'm good."

"You sure? You made me a lot of money tonight!"

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at him, but he was drunk enough that he didn't get the hint. He turned and quickly snagged two bottles of beer from the bartender, who had to explain to Rooster that it was an open bar and he didn't need to pay, before Rooster finally turned back to me with a grin.

"Want one of these?"

"No," I said, gently pushing aside the bottle he offered me as I took a step forward. "Rooster, what do you mean I made you a lot of money tonight?"

"Technically you and Phoenix! Everybody kept betting that you guys weren't going to figure out your shit for another month at least, but I had faith-"

"Bradley, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You guys!" he said, motioning emphatically with the beers in his hands between me and the dancefloor, where Nat had been cajoled into enjoying at least one song. "Finally getting together! After hearing her wax poetic about how great you are since the day you guys met, we started taking bets on when she'd finally do something about it. And I won! So, thanks!"

"Hold on..." I reached out, taking Rooster's arm to steady myself. The room had started spinning around me, and it had nothing to do with alcohol. "Roos, what are you saying? What do you mean, Nat's been talking about me since the day we met?"

"Ah, I probably shouldn't have told you," he said, shaking his head and at last lowering his voice to normal volume, although it was still far from a whisper. "But it's probably fine now, since you're dating. God, she used to drive us all crazy talking about how great you were and how much of a thing she had for you. It's probably gonna get worse now though, since you guys finally admitted you were pining after each other- Hey, where are you going?"

I ignored Rooster as I headed back to the dance floor, a buzzing in my brain as his words echoed. He was clearly drunk, but if anything, that made me more confident that what he'd told me was the truth. The whole time I'd been driving myself crazy trying not to admit feelings for one of my best friends, she'd been doing the same thing.

Before I knew it, I stood in front of Natasha again. The music still thumped, people laughing and jumping and twirling all around us, but I barely noticed. Nat stood to one side of Fanboy, with Bob on his other side, the two of them holding him up as he attempted to drag them both into a dance, so it took Nat a minute to notice me. But once she did, she straightened up.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I nodded, taking a step closer to her.

"Rooster spilled his guts. You like me. For real."

Shock registered on her face, then straight rage as she whipped her head around to look for Rooster. I just grinned, pushing Fanboy's arm off her as I closed the rest of the distance between us.

"Nat. I like you, too. For real."

She whipped her head back around so quickly that she almost broke my nose. Her wide eyes searched mine, one eyebrow raised.

"Are you kidding?"

"Hell no I'm not kidding. Nat... can I kiss you?"

She grinned, any trace of trepidation or irritation melting away all at once.

"Hell yeah you can."

I grinned back, letting my hand come up to the back of her neck as I leaned in and finally, finally kissed Natasha. She wrapped an arm tightly around my waist, pulling me closer to her as we deepened the kiss. Some cheers and whoops from her friends snapped us both out of it enough to finally pull away, both of us smiling delirious-looking smiles.

"I'm so glad you asked me to be your date to this, Nat," I breathed, letting my arms fall to rest on her shoulders. Her hands came onto my waist, her smile turning into more of a grin.

"Me too. Although, I am looking forward to an opportunity for a real date, without my idiot friends in range or any other people trying to hit on me."

"Sounds great. How about... tomorrow night?"

Nat threw her head back and laughed, but when she met my eyes again and saw me looking as serious as ever, she grinned again.

"Alright. Tomorrow night it is."

"I can't wait."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Top Gun Taglist: @elenavampire21

[spacelesbiandisaster]

Remember those kids from the Gathering?

I was wondering which master each one of them would get if Order 66 didn't hit, so I made elaborate headcanons about it.

(because I'm unemployed and bored)

You can check Part II here!

Katooni and Obi-Wan

Do I even need to explain this one?

Seriously, I could just say that it would be fun seeing the both of them dealing with Hondo Onaka on a weekly basis and that by itself is all the reason we need. Unfortunately I like to make things make sense in universe and not just because they a fun, so let's talk why Katooni is the perfect Padawan for Kenobi.

They both the mom of the group.

Katooni spent half of her Gathering trying to convince Petro to not do stupid shit, and she seems to take a role of leadership overall during the episodes she participated. I think she deeply cares about her friends and it's not afraid to speak her mind when they do something she judges wrong.

Maybe this particular trait would eventually make her speak out of her place with her master, especially with she was allowed to watch the Council sessions and see some of the master says something they disagree, but if Obi-Wan could raise Anakin it wouldn't be a challenge deal with Katooni's strong personality. Also, because she cares so much about others, their disagreements would solo concerned the method they should use (Is okay to call out Petro in front of his master or should her find some other approach to avoid embarrassing her friend? Should she let Hondo go just because he decided to not robber the people she was protecting or she should hold him accountable for his actions besides her personal feeling? Thing like this.) And Obi-Wan would understand were her opinions are coming from because he has a similar personality.

• Katooni needs a master who help her connect to the force.

Listen, I'm not saying that Katooni is weak but we can all agree that it is curious how she is the last youngling to finish her lightsaber, right?

Her test in the gathering only truly happens once she is out of Ilum (in my opinion) were she sees all her friends with their lightsabers while she herself is struggling to connect the parts using the force. The way I read this is that Katooni have a confidence problem and that is blocking her abilities.

You know how else struggle with that? Luke Skywalker! Luke couldn't understand the force or believe that someone like him could use the force, but Obi-Wan was able to teach him before passing. Katooni is ages ahead of Luke on this matter, but I believe Obi-Wan still the right person to guide her to overcome those blocks and make her more confident and in tune with the Force.

• Katooni is a future diplomat.

Okay, I have to talk about Hondo. This girl was able to make that man do something solo for the kindness of his heart. FOR FREE! Sure Hondo tries to charge Obi-Wan after delivering the kids safety, but I think it was a act so Kenobi wouldn't think bad of him.

My point is Katooni as able to talk her way out of a terrible situation with a help of a pirate how tried to murderer her and her friends. She looked at Hondo and not only instantly forgave him, but also bargain with him to save her friends. Imagine if she was trained with the Negotiator? That girl would be ending wars only with her words by the time she was knighted!

Overall I think that's a lot she could learn from him, and Obi-Wan surely would be glad to have a break from the chaotic nature of Anakin. I don't have anything against the guy, but Katooni is way more of a Jedi than Skywalker is and her and Obi-Wan would definitely vibe together during diplomatic missions.

Gungi and Yoda

It's absolutely criminal that the last Padawan of Master Yoda is freaking Dooku! This little frog deserved better and I think of all youngling Gungi would definitely be the best match for him! And if he stayed alive in a swamp for almost 20 years eating strange sup just to train Luke, I think he could last a decade more in the temple with doctors looking after him and clean food so he could watch over my favorite Wookie!

Gungi would teach Yoda to have hope in the future.

I going to advocate that the master can learn just as much as the padawan if they open themselves to listen, and boy Yoda definitely need to learn some things! Gungi is full of life, has a lot of energy and being around some like this would do wonders for Yoda's spirit. It would remind the Gran Master that the Order has a future and maybe it would make Yoda reevaluate some of his recent decisions.

I think Yoda spend way too much time in the council chambers, and having a Padawan would eventually force him to go out on the galaxy to see something other than the clone wars. I would give him not only a apportunity to connect with the youth but with the people of the galaxy he was supposed to help.

Yoda and the Wookies have a close relationship for decades now (maybe centuries)

I don't think Jedi masters choose their Padawans based on species only, but this is definitely a factor given examples like Luminara and Barriss and Kit Fisto and Nahdar. I think a master had to know a least the basics about their about species be able to teach, and Yoda would be perfect to help Gungi connect with his culture.

A lesson on patience and lost

Gungi is a very impatient youngling, we see this in his test on the gathering with him struggling to wait the lake frozen. This don't see to be a issue when we reunite with him on the Bad Batch episode, but I don't believe that single experience on the cave was enough to make him overcome those feelings. Gungi needs a master who will know how to help him exercise his patience on a regular basis.

On top of that, Gungi seems to be nervous when Ganodi leaves him alone in the lake so she could look for her own crystal. He isn't as scary as Byth, but he is uncomfortable with being alone nonetheless. Being Yoda's Padawan he would probably had to come with terms with the idea that his master would pass away early on his life. Remember, Wookies are a long life species in cannon, so even if he does live longer in the Jedi temple than he would if order 66 happened Yoda would still died when Gungi was a young adult.

Yoda would probably openly speak about his death a lot and it would show Gungi that this isn't something to be afraid of. Being a Wookie would probably mean the he would also have to experience all his youngling clan die as well and he needs to be ready for it.

I also want to point out how important would be if Gungi gave continuity to Yoda's lineage. Sure we have Quigon, Obi-Wan, Anakin, Ahsoka and whoever she chooses to be her Padawan in the future (I plan to make a part II about this eventually), but they are call "the disaster lineage" for a reason... Let's give Yoda a less chaotic lineage please.

Zatt and Quinlan Vos

If anyone in the Jedi order would be up for a challenge that person would definitely be Quinlan Vos. Not that I think Zatt would be a difficult Padawan, but because he is so different than Quinlan their dynamic would be so interesting (to me at least).

Quinlan would forced Zatt to leave his iPad at home.

"Forced" is probably a strong word, but I can't imagine Quinlan letting the boys really on technology as much Zett would like.

Remember that Zett is the padawan how tried to track his crystal using a datapad but eventually got frustrated and call the thing "useless", but much like Gungi, I don't believe that this one experience would change his whole personality forever. Zatt would probably still try to navigate his ships looking at the panels instead of trusting in the force and things like this, but Quinlan would reminder him of his lesson while making use of his abilities (Quinlan would ask Zatt to open so many doors so they could invade criminal hide out without making a big entrance...)

Also how cool would be if Zatt eventually became a sensory time like his master and learn to track his target using the force after years struggling with that?

• Zatt would teach Quinlan to be a little more discreet (I hope)

Zatt probably enjoys hacking into buildings and stealing information on the holonet while Vos is literally the guy how destroy the door of the house of a Hutt matriarch with his lightsaber just because he didn't had the patience to wait Obi-Wan come out with a plan. Zatt would probably give smart solutions for the trouble his master puts him into and Quinlan would have to listen at least from time to time.

• Quinlan would teach Zatt thing he cannot find in the holonet.

I really see Zatt as the iPad kid, and Quinlan would be the cool father who is street smart, you know? He would make Zatt learn from his environment instead on only books, and would make the boy practice abilities he is not currently comfortable with.

Also I think between the knowledge Quinlan has on the underworld factions and Zatt's hack abilities, Quinlan could shape his Padawan to be a really resourceful Jedi when it comes to dealing if criminal activity in the galaxy.

Ganodi and Kit Fisto

Please stay with me with this one.

I think Kit Fisto wasn't expecting getting a new Padawan anytime soon after his battle against general Grievous, but upon seeing Ganodi he would feel a bound and take the responsibility of training and raising the girl. Hear me out:

• A lesson on hope

You when Ganodi freaks out because she can't find her crystal and start to cry because she thinks there's no hope for her? And remember how Kit Fisto stay calm even after his former Padawan (Nahdar) dies and is able to continue his fight?

Yeah, Kit Fisto is the best Jedi to teach Ganodi about putting her fears aside for the sake of her mission. His wining personality (and smile) would also make his daughter Padawan adopt a more positive reaction towards however problem she is going to face.

• A healing journey

I truly believe Kit Fisto was deeply hurt by Nahdar death. He probably thinks it's his fault for not preparing the boy well enough, and would have the same fears about Ganodi, but eventually he would see they are different persons and the thing she struggles with are not the same as Nahdar. It would be different if he picked a over confident Padawan such as Petro (who I think is probably a lot like Nahdar was at that age), but Ganodi seems a sweet girl how need a little push to trust herself and Kit Fisto could absolutely help with that.

That's all I have considering what I know about the characters in cannon, but in my head cannons Ganodi would grow to be quite a fighter and would also benefit from Kit Fisto's lightsaber's abilities. I also find a bit funny the idea that all Kit Fisto's Padawans came from water worlds (Rodians came from a swamp so I'm assuming they can at the very least spend long periods under water)

This is too big already so I going to make a Part II covering Bith, Petro and some other force sensitive children we see in Star Wars but never got a master.

[olasketches]

heyyy!! hoping you're having a awesome day, your artsyle is so pretty!! i would like to see tiger yuji, panther megumi and lion nobara, idk them all feel very feline-like to me XDD

heyyyy!! aw hope you’re having an awesome day too :D also thank you so much for enjoying my art style it makes me really happy that you do :”)) here’s tiger yuji, panther megumi and lion nobara as requested!! this definitely got me out of my comfort zone lol but I had lots of fun with these >.<

[queenlucythevaliant]

Tell Your Dad You Love Him

A retelling of "Meat Loves Salt"/"Cap O'Rushes" for the @inklings-challenge Four Loves event

An old king had three daughters. When his health began to fail, he summoned them, and they came.

Gordonia and Rowan were already waiting in the hallway when Coriander arrived. They were leaned up against the wall opposite the king’s office with an air of affected casualness. “I wonder what the old war horse wants today?” Rowan was saying. “More about next year’s political appointments, I shouldn’t wonder.”

“The older he gets, the more he micromanages,” Gordonia groused fondly. “A thousand dollars says this meeting could’ve been an email.”

They filed in single-file like they’d so often done as children: Gordonia first, then Rowan, and Coriander last of all. The king had placed three chairs in front of his desk all in a row. His daughters murmured their greetings, and one by one they sat down. 

“I have divided everything I have in three,” the king said. “I am old now, and it’s time. Today, I will pass my kingdom on to you, my daughters.”

A short gasp came from Gordonia. None of them could have imagined that their father would give up running his kingdom while he still lived. 

The king went on. “I know you will deal wisely with that which I leave in your care. But before we begin, I have one request.”

“Yes father?” said Rowan.

“Tell me how much you love me.”

An awkward silence fell. Although there was no shortage of love between the king and his daughters, theirs was not a family which spoke of such things. They were rich and blue-blooded: a soldier and the daughters of a soldier, a king and his three court-reared princesses. The royal family had always shown their affection through double meanings and hot cups of coffee.

Gordonia recovered herself first. She leaned forward over the desk and clasped her father’s hands in her own. “Father,” she said, “I love you more than I can say.” A pause. “I don’t think there’s ever been a family so happy in love as we have been. You’re a good dad.”

The old king smiled and patted her hand. “Thank you, Gordonia. We have been very happy, haven’t we? Here is your inheritance. Cherish it, as I cherish you.”

Rowan spoke next; the words came tumbling out.  “Father! There’s not a thing in my life which you didn’t give me, and all the joy in the world beside. Come now, Gordonia, there’s no need to understate the matter. I love you more than—why, more than life itself!”

The king laughed, and rose to embrace his second daughter. “How you delight me, Rowan. All of this will be yours.”

Only Coriander remained. As her sisters had spoken, she’d wrung her hands in her lap, unsure of what to say. Did her father really mean for flattery to be the price of her inheritance? That just wasn’t like him. For all that he was a politician, he’d been a soldier first. He liked it when people told the truth.

When the king’s eyes came to rest on her, Coriander raised her own to meet them. “Do you really want to hear what you already know?” 

“I do.”

She searched for a metaphor that could carry the weight of her love without unnecessary adornment. At last she found one, and nodded, satisfied. “Dad, you’re like—like salt in my food.”

“Like salt?”

“Well—yes.”

The king’s broad shoulders seemed to droop. For a moment, Coriander almost took back her words. Her father was the strongest man in the world, even now, at eighty. She’d watched him argue with foreign rulers and wage wars all her life. Nothing could hurt him. Could he really be upset? 

But no. Coriander held her father’s gaze. She had spoken true. What harm could be in that?

“I don’t know why you’re even here, Cor,” her father said.

Now, Coriander shifted slightly in her seat, unnerved. “What? Father—”

“It would be best if—you should go,” said the old king.

“Father, you can’t really mean–”

“Leave us, Coriander.”

So she left the king’s court that very hour.

 .

It had been a long time since she’d gone anywhere without a chauffeur to drive her, but Coriander’s thoughts were flying apart too fast for her to be afraid. She didn’t know where she would go, but she would make do, and maybe someday her father would puzzle out her metaphor and call her home to him. Coriander had to hope for that, at least. The loss of her inheritance didn’t feel real yet, but her father—how could he not know that she loved him? She’d said it every day.

She’d played in the hall outside that same office as a child. She’d told him her secrets and her fears and sent him pictures on random Tuesdays when they were in different cities just because. She had watched him triumph in conference rooms and on the battlefield and she’d wanted so badly to be like him. 

If her father doubted her love, then maybe he’d never noticed any of it. Maybe the love had been an unnoticed phantasm, a shadow, a song sung to a deaf man. Maybe all that love had been nothing at all.  

A storm was on the horizon, and it reached her just as she made it onto the highway. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled. Rain poured down and flooded the road. Before long, Coriander was hydroplaning. Frantically, she tried to remember what you were supposed to do when that happened. Pump the brakes? She tried. No use. Wasn’t there something different you did if the car had antilock brakes? Or was that for snow? What else, what else–

With a sickening crunch, her car hit the guardrail. No matter. Coriander’s thoughts were all frenzied and distant. She climbed out of the car and just started walking.

Coriander wandered beneath an angry sky on the great white plains of her father’s kingdom. The rain beat down hard, and within seconds she was soaked to the skin. The storm buffeted her long hair around her head. It tangled together into long, matted cords that hung limp down her back. Mud soiled her fine dress and splattered onto her face and hands. There was water in her lungs and it hurt to breathe. Oh, let me die here, Coriander thought. There’s nothing left for me, nothing at all. She kept walking.

 .

When she opened her eyes, Coriander found herself in a dank gray loft. She was lying on a strange feather mattress.

She remained there a while, looking up at the rafters and wondering where she could be. She thought and felt, as it seemed, through a heavy and impenetrable mist; she was aware only of hunger and weakness and a dreadful chill (though she was all wrapped in blankets). She knew that a long time must have passed since she was fully aware, though she had a confused memory of wandering beside the highway in a thunderstorm, slowly going mad because—because— oh, there’d been something terrible in her dreams. Her father, shoulders drooping at his desk, and her sisters happily come into their inheritance, and she cast into exile—

She shuddered and sat up dizzily. “Oh, mercy,” she murmured. She hadn’t been dreaming.

She stumbled out of the loft down a narrow flight of stairs and came into a strange little room with a single window and a few shabby chairs. Still clinging to the rail, she heard a ruckus from nearby and then footsteps. A plump woman came running to her from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron and softly clucking at the state of her guest’s matted, tangled hair.

“Dear, dear,” said the woman. “Here’s my hand, if you’re still unsteady. That’s good, good. Don’t be afraid, child. I’m Katherine, and my husband is Folke. He found you collapsed by the goose-pond night before last. I’m she who dressed you—your fine gown was ruined, I’m afraid. Would you like some breakfast? There’s coffee on the counter, and we’ll have porridge in a minute if you’re patient.”

“Thank you,” Coriander rasped.

“Will you tell me your name, my dear?”

“I have no name. There’s nothing to tell.”

Katherine clicked her tongue. “That’s alright, no need to worry. Folke and I’ve been calling you Rush on account of your poor hair. I don’t know if you’ve seen yourself, but it looks a lot like river rushes. No, don’t get up. Here’s your breakfast, dear.”

There was indeed porridge, as Katherine had promised, served with cream and berries from the garden. Coriander ate hungrily and tasted very little. Then, when she was finished, the goodwife ushered her over to a sofa by the window and put a pillow beneath her head. Coriander thanked her, and promptly fell asleep.

 .

She woke again around noon, with the pounding in her head much subsided. She woke feeling herself again, to visions of her father inches away and the sound of his voice cracking across her name.

Katherine was outside in the garden; Coriander could see her through the clouded window above her. She rose and, upon finding herself still in a borrowed nightgown, wrapped herself in a blanket to venture outside.

“Feeling better?” Katherine was kneeling in a patch of lavender, but she half rose when she heard the cottage door open.

“Much. Thank you, ma’am.

“No thanks necessary. Folke and I are ministers, of a kind. We keep this cottage for lost and wandering souls. You’re free to remain here with us for as long as you need.”

“Oh,” was all Coriander could think to say. 

“You’ve been through a tempest, haven’t you? Are you well enough to tell me where you came from?”

Coriander shifted uncomfortably. “I’m from nowhere,” she said. “I have nothing.”

“You don’t owe me your story, child. I should like to hear it, but it will keep till you’re ready. Now, why don’t you put on some proper clothes and come help me with this weeding.”

 .

Coriander remained at the cottage with Katherine and her husband Folke for a week, then a fortnight. She slept in the loft and rose with the sun to help Folke herd the geese to the pond. After, Coriander would return and see what needed doing around the cottage. She liked helping Katherine in the garden.

The grass turned gold and the geese’s thick winter down began to come in. Coriander’s river-rush hair proved itself unsalvageable. She spent hours trying to untangle it, first with a hairbrush, then with a fine-tooth comb and a bottle of conditioner, and eventually even with honey and olive oil (a home remedy that Folke said his mother used to use). So, at last, Coriander surrendered to the inevitable and gave Katherine permission to cut it off. One night, by the yellow light of the bare bulb that hung over the kitchen table, Katherine draped a towel over Coriander’s shoulders and tufts of gold went falling to the floor all round her.

“I’m here because I failed at love,” she managed to tell the couple at last, when her sorrows began to feel more distant. “I loved my father, and he knew it not.”

Folke and Katherine still called her Rush. She didn’t correct them. Coriander was the name her parents gave her. It was the name her father had called her when she was six and racing down the stairs to meet him when he came home from Europe, and at ten when she showed him the new song she’d learned to play on the harp. She’d been Cor when she brought her first boyfriend home and Cori the first time she shadowed him at court. Coriander, Coriander, when she came home from college the first time and he’d hugged her with bruising strength. Her strong, powerful father.

As she seasoned a pot of soup for supper, she wondered if he understood yet what she’d meant when she called him salt in her food. 

 .

Coriander had been living with Katherine and Folke for two years, and it was a morning just like any other. She was in the kitchen brewing a pot of coffee when Folke tossed the newspaper on the table and started rummaging in the fridge for his orange juice. “Looks like the old king’s sick again,” he commented casually. Coriander froze.

She raced to the table and seized hold of the paper. There, above the fold, big black letters said, KING ADMITTED TO HOSPITAL FOR EMERGENCY TREATMENT. There was a picture of her father, looking older than she’d ever seen him. Her knees went wobbly and then suddenly the room was sideways.

Strong arms caught her and hauled her upright. “What’s wrong, Rush?”

“What if he dies,” she choked out. “What if he dies and I never got to tell him?”

She looked up into Folke’s puzzled face, and then the whole sorry story came tumbling out.

When she was through, Katherine (who had come downstairs sometime between salt and the storm) took hold of her hand and kissed it. “Bless you, dear,” she said. “I never would have guessed. Maybe it’s best that you’ve both had some time to think things over.”

Katherine shook her head. “But don’t you think…?”

“Yes?”

“Well, don’t you think he should have known that I loved him? I shouldn’t have needed to say it. He’s my father. He’s the king.”

Katherine replied briskly, as though the answer should have been obvious. “He’s only human, child, for all that he might wear a crown; he’s not omniscient. Why didn’t you tell your father what he wanted to hear?”

“I didn’t want to flatter him,” said Coriander. “That was all. I wanted to be right in what I said.”

The goodwife clucked softly. “Oh dear. Don’t you know that sometimes, it’s more important to be kind than to be right?”

.

In her leave-taking, Coriander tried to tell Katherine and Folke how grateful she was to them, but they wouldn’t let her. They bought her a bus ticket and sent her on her way towards King’s City with plenty of provisions. Two days later, Coriander stood on the back steps of one of the palace outbuildings with her little carpetbag clutched in her hands. 

Stuffing down the fear of being recognized, Coriander squared her shoulders and hoped they looked as strong as her father’s. She rapped on the door, and presently a maid came and opened it. The maid glanced Coriander up and down, but after a moment it was clear that her disguise held. With all her long hair shorn off, she must have looked like any other girl come in off the street.

“I’m here about a job,” said Coriander. “My name’s Rush.”

 .

The king's chambers were half-lit when Coriander brought him his supper, dressed in her servants’ apparel. He grunted when she knocked and gestured with a cane towards his bedside table. His hair was snow-white and he was sitting in bed with his work spread across a lap-desk. His motions were very slow.

Coriander wanted to cry, seeing her father like that. Yet somehow, she managed to school her face. Like he would, she kept telling herself. Stoically, she put down the supper tray, then stepped back out into the hallway. 

It was several minutes more before the king was ready to eat. Coriander heard papers being shuffled, probably filed in those same manilla folders her father had always used. In the hall, Coriander felt the seconds lengthen. She steeled herself for the moment she knew was coming, when the king would call out in irritation, “Girl! What's the matter with my food? Why hasn’t it got any taste?”

When that moment came, all would be made right. Coriander would go into the room and taste his food. “Why,” she would say, with a look of complete innocence, “It seems the kitchen forgot to salt it!” She imagined how her father’s face would change when he finally understood. My daughter always loved me, he would say. 

Soon, soon. It would happen soon. Any second now. 

The moment never came. Instead, the floor creaked, followed by the rough sound of a cane striking the floor. The door opened, and then the king was there, his mighty shoulders shaking. “Coriander,” he whispered. 

“Dad. You know me?”

“Of course.”

“Then you understand now?”

The king’s wrinkled brow knit. “Understand about the salt? Of course, I do. It wasn't such a clever riddle. There was surely no need to ruin my supper with a demonstration.”

Coriander gaped at him. She'd expected questions, explanations, maybe apologies for sending her away. She'd never imagined this.

She wanted very badly to seize her father and demand answers, but then she looked, really looked, at the way he was leaning on his cane. The king was barely upright; his white head was bent low. Her questions would hold until she'd helped her father back into his room. 

“If you knew what I meant–by saying you were like salt in my food– then why did you tell me to go?” she asked once they were situated back in the royal quarters. 

Idly, the king picked at his unseasoned food. “I shouldn’t have done that. Forgive me, Coriander. My anger and hurt got the better of me, and it has brought me much grief. I never expected you to stay away for so long.”

Coriander nodded slowly. Her father's words had always carried such fierce authority. She'd never thought to question if he really meant what he’d said to her. 

“As for the salt,” continued the king, "Is it so wrong that an old man should want to hear his daughters say ‘I love you' before he dies?” 

Coriander rolled the words around in her head, trying to make sense of them. Then, with a sudden mewling sound from her throat, she managed to say, “That's really all you wanted?”  

“That's all. I am old, Cor, and we've spoken too little of love in our house.” He took another bite of his unsalted supper. His hand shook. “That was my failing, I suppose. Perhaps if I’d said it, you girls would have thought to say it back.”

“But father!” gasped Coriander, “That’s not right. We've always known we loved one another! We've shown it a thousand ways. Why, I've spent the last year cataloging them in my head, and I've still not even scratched the surface!”

The king sighed. “Perhaps you will understand when your time comes. I knew, and yet I didn't. What can you really call a thing you’ve never named? How do you know it exists? Perhaps all the love I thought I knew was only a figment.”

“But that’s what I’ve been afraid of all this time,” Coriander bit back. “How could you doubt? If it was real at all– how could you doubt?”

The king’s weathered face grew still. His eyes fell shut and he squeezed them. “Death is close to me, child. A small measure of reassurance is not so very much to ask.”

.

Coriander slept in her old rooms that night. None of it had changed. When she woke the next morning, for a moment she remembered nothing of the last two years. 

She breakfasted in the garden with her father, who came down the steps in a chair-lift. “Coriander,” he murmured. “I half-thought I dreamed you last night.”

“I’m here, Dad,” she replied. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Slowly, the king reached out with one withered hand and caressed Coriander's cheek. Then, his fingers drifted up to what remained of her hair. He ruffled it, then gently tugged on a tuft the way he'd used to playfully tug her long braid when she was a girl. 

“I love you,” he said.

“That was always an I love you, wasn’t it?” replied Coriander. “My hair.”

The king nodded. “Yes, I think it was.”

So Coriander reached out and gently tugged the white hairs of his beard. “You too,” she whispered.

.

“Why salt?” The king was sitting by the fire in his rooms wrapped in two blankets. Coriander was with him, enduring the sweltering heat of the room without complaint. 

She frowned. “You like honesty. We have that in common. I was trying to be honest–accurate–to avoid false flattery.”

The king tugged at the outer blanket, saying nothing. His lips thinned and his eyes dropped to his lap. Coriander wished they wouldn’t. She wished they would hold to hers, steely and ready for combat as they always used to be.

“Would it really have been false?” the king said at last. “Was there no other honest way to say it? Only salt?”

Coriander wanted to deny it, to give speech to the depth and breadth of her love, but once again words failed her. “It was my fault,” she said. “I didn’t know how to heave my heart into my throat.” She still didn’t, for all she wanted to. 

.

When the doctor left, the king was almost too tired to talk. His words came slowly, slurred at the edges and disconnected, like drops of water from a leaky faucet. 

Still, Coriander could tell that he had something to say. She waited patiently as his lips and tongue struggled to form the words. “Love you… so… much… You… and… your sisters… Don’t… worry… if you… can’t…say…how…much. I… know.” 

It was all effort. The king sat back when he was finished. Something was still spasming in his throat, and Coriander wanted to cry.

“I’m glad you know,” she said. “I’m glad. But I still want to tell you.”

Love was effort. If her father wanted words, she would give him words. True words. Kind words. She would try… 

“I love you like salt in my food. You're desperately important to me, and you've always been there, and I don't know what I'll do without you. I don’t want to lose you. And I love you like the soil in a garden. Like rain in the spring. Like a hero. You have the strongest shoulders of anyone I know, and all I ever wanted was to be like you…”

A warm smile spread across the old king’s face. His eyes drifted shut.

[sysig]

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