#it's nice to occasionally have brief interactions with strangers so I think if you keep it at that level it's fine?

[hacash]

#a nuanced ‘generally no’#unless I could be quick and casual and non-intrusive about it#I think it follows the same rules as like. if you wanted to compliment a stranger?#like if I’m at the bagel store and I’m in line behind Steve Buscemi (a possibility) and he’s not busy/in conversation/etc#then it would be okay to say a quick word and then go back to minding my own business#the way you might say ‘hey I like your jacket!’ to someone in that situation#but you don’t get up in a restaurant and walk over to someone’s table and interrupt their meal to compliment their outfit#so don’t do that to famous people either#so like. odds are that in most situations I wouldn’t be able to say something quickly/non-invasively so I wouldn’t#but I think there are times when it’s okay as long as you’re quick and respectful and not interrupting (via @goatsandgangsters)

OK I saw a poll about something similar and now I am curious

-Assume it's a celebrity you like and that they haven't made a statement about this sort of thing.

-The celebrity in question is just casually out and about, they are not part of an event or panel.

-By "go up to them" I mean saying hello or asking for a picture

-If you have to talk to them as part of your job it doesn't count unless you also ask for something similar to the above.

-This is a judgement free zone, there is no correct answer I am just curious.

Inspired by this poll

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Leave Your Lover (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! So, this was going to be one really long part, but it kind of got away from me and I had to split it into two. Don’t worry the next part is going to be very long either way because that’s the half that got away from me. This takes place pre-Infinity War. Inspired by Sam Smith’s “Leave Your Lover”, mainly the line featured. 

Summary: A brief glimpse into life on the run. Will Wanda be able to find Y/n? 

“If I can't have you I'll walk this life alone, spare you the rising storms and let the rivers flow.”

Being on the run was difficult to say the least and being on the run while trying to find someone who was actively trying not to be found was even worse. Despite being told by the rest of the group that it may be in her best interest to just move on and let you go, Wanda knew that wasn’t an option. She had made a promise to herself that she was going to keep fighting for you, no matter the cost. Wanda had let you go once and she wasn’t going to let it happen, not if there was a part of her that knew you still had love in your heart for her.

The only one who knew where you were at all times was Steve and he had spent the last few months absolutely refusing to disclose your exact location. That never stopped her from trying though. 

Eventually though, he gave in. Steve wasn’t sure if it was her sheer determination that impressed him or the fact that he had never seen you happier than when you were with her. If she thought she could create happiness in a terrible situation, Steve thought she at least deserved a true chance and he wouldn’t stand in the way. 

When she received the location, Wanda quickly packed what little she had and booked the next train ticket to Rennes, France. Feeling hopeful for the first time since long before the events of Lagos. _________________________________

For the majority of the time you’d been on the run, you stuck to the idea that hiding in plain sight was the best course of action. Which is why you were currently at a poorly lit bar, trying to live as normal a life as you possibly could under the circumstances. The only unfortunate thing was that you couldn’t interact with anyone due to the risk of being discovered. So, when you felt someone tap your shoulder, you knew it would be time to go.

Before turning, you downed your drink to prepare yourself to either get hit on by a random drunk person or convince them you weren’t who they thought you were.

Neither options were what you got when you turned around though. You tilted your head in pleasant surprise at the sight before you.

“Long time no see, stranger.”

Without thinking and perhaps partially due to the alcohol coursing through your veins, you wrapped yourself tightly around the woman in front of you. She laughed in surprise and gladly returned the embrace. You couldn’t help but revel in the contact, touch deprived from all the time you had spent in solitude.

For a while, you both just stood there, wrapped in one another’s embrace. Ignoring the occasional odd look from random passer byers. With one final squeeze, you released her but kept your hands on her shoulders. “You have no idea how good it is to see you, Nat.” you admitted to her with a smile on your face.

Natasha easily returned the smile. “It’s good to see you too. I was passing by outside when I thought I saw you sitting here and I had to see if it was really you.”

“What are the chances?” you asked with a laugh as you signaled the bartender over and ordered drinks. “Let’s celebrate.”

After drinking for a bit and catching up slightly, you both agreed that staying longer would be too much a risk and decided to take a walk outside. 

“You dyed your hair.” You noted as you reached over and took a strand of her hair gently in between your fingers before letting it go. “It looks good.”

A playful smirk spread across Natasha’s lips. “Yeah, well, I figured the red was a dead giveaway for me, so… blonde it was.” She nudged you playfully. “A better disguise than a beanie and glasses at least. You’re no better than Rogers.” 

A boisterous laugh escaped your lips, “What can I say? That man taught me everything I know.” Natasha shook her head but laughed despite herself. 

You knew you would have to separate soon, but you tried not to focus on that. The pair of you walked in contented silence, enjoying the comfort of not being alone, even if it was temporarily.  Eventually you both come up on the street where your hideout was located and for the first time you didn’t feel the need to rush in. Thankfully there was a small bench located across the street and you both wandered over and took a seat, enjoying the cool air.

“How have you been?” Natasha eventually asked, her eyes on yours as she attempted to analyze you.

You pondered the question for a moment. “I’ve been… lonely.” You finally breathed out, turning your gaze skyward. “I feel alone. I miss real connections. I miss just being able to walk down the street without fear of corporal punishment. I miss human contact.”

Natasha’s hand fell to your knee and squeezed lightly. You turned your head to meet her eyes. “I know what you mean. You’re never really alone though, Y/n. You know we’d all be there in a heartbeat if we could, if we have to.” 

The touch and the knowledge that you weren’t alone was something you had missed. Again, whether it was the alcohol in both your systems or the deprivation of another human’s touch, but you both found yourselves leaning forward and connecting lips. 

It was gentle and nice, but you couldn’t help but compare it to Wanda. Kissing Wanda always felt powerful and right. The way your whole body felt like electricity was coursing through your veins at the simplest of touches. Kissing Wanda always felt like coming home. You could’t help but think you needed this to realize that the one you still wanted was the one you shouldn’t want.

Despite this, you didn’t pull away, tangling your hand in Natasha’s now blonde locks as her hands fell to your waist. You allowed yourself this small moment of comfort.

Across the street, Wanda had been approaching only to stop in horror at the sight before her. Her mind rushing and heart breaking at the sight. If she felt a fraction of what you did that night on the roof, she couldn’t imagine how you got through it. As much as her heart ached in her chest, she didn’t allow it to stop her. She just hoped it wasn’t too late. That you hadn’t already given your heart to another. 

After some time, both you and Natasha pulled away. Laughing when you met one another’s eyes. “That was… nice.” You said lightly.

Natasha rolled her eyes and pushed your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re drunk. We will never speak of this again.” She chuckled and looked at her watch. “My train leaves in a little over an hour, I should probably go.” You nodded in understanding and she hugged you once more before beginning to walk away.

“Hey, Nat?” you called after her. She turned. “Take care of yourself, okay?” She nodded and blew a teasing kiss your way before walking off into the night. With a sigh you leaned into the bench and closed your eyes for a moment, taking in the fact that you were alone again. 

It had to have been less than a few minutes when you felt someone sit next to you, your eyes shot open and met with stunning emerald eyes that used to be your world. “Wanda?” you whispered, feeling the air leave your lungs at the sight of her. 

Wanda quirked her lips up slightly, but there was melancholy in her eyes. “So, you and Nat, huh?” There was no accusation in her tone, just sadness. Possibly even acceptance. You quickly realized that she must have seen the kiss.

“And if we are? Together, I mean. What will you do?” You probed challengingly.

Pain flooded her eyes as she dropped her gaze to her lap. “Nothing. I’m not going to interfere if you’re happy, but… but just know that I won’t stop fighting for you. I’ll be here waiting because our love is destined and I’m not going away. I’ll still love you even if you chose to love someone else. You have all of me. Always.” She paused slightly. “You are my only direction.” She added quietly, repeating the words you once told her back to you. 

Your heart clenched at the referenced moment, of one of your formerly favorite moments. 

Staring off into the distance, you could feel the numbness begin to fade as the alcohol started to leave your system. “Why?”

She lifted her gaze up to you curiously, but you didn’t meet her eyes. “Why what?”

“Why do you keep trying?” 

Wanda took a deep breath and turned so she was facing you completely even if you wouldn’t look at her. “Love.” She stated simply, “I’m in love with you, beyond all rationality. Even if you don’t believe me. I want you to have everything you want, even if its Nat, even if that destroys me.”

Even in Spain you had never heard her speak so passionately. It terrified you. Terrified you so much that you wanted to get up and run far, far away from her. Far from the feelings that her words stirred within you.

Wanda wasn’t done though, she needed to get everything off her chest. To lay all her cards out. “When you love someone, you don’t stop. Even when everyone on the team calls me crazy and tells me I should just move on and let you go. I won’t stop or give up because if I could give up…” She risked taking your hand in hers, sighing in relief when you don’t pull back. “If I could give up and listen to everyone’s advice and move on and find someone else that wouldn’t be love. That would be some imitation that is not worth fighting for.”

“Wanda…” you whispered finally looking up at her, noticing the way her eyes shined with unshed tears.

She squeezed your hand again. “But you… You are more than worth fighting for. You will always be worth fighting for. And if I can’t have you I’ll be alone because no one else can hold my heart. This is love.”

“I’m not with Natasha.” You admitted softly after Wanda’s declaration, watching the way relief filled her eyes. “I think we were both just lonely and comforting each other.”

The relieved smile that took over Wanda’s features was contagious as you couldn’t help but smile hesitantly back at her. 

Wanda’s heart fluttered at the sight. That was the first time you had smiled at her since the night on the roof. 

“What does that mean?” she questioned hopefully.

With hesitation, you interlaced your fingers with Wanda’s. “It means that I’m still not sure I trust you and I’m not ready to be with you again.” Her head dropped in dejection. “But. I’m not going to ask you to leave if you want to stay and work on that.”

For the first time in a long time, Wanda felt a semblance of happiness blossom in her chest. Unable to stop herself, she surged forward and took you in her arms, melting when you held her back. “I promise I’ll earn your trust back. I’m not going anywhere. I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, Y/n.”

Part 10! double digits! Pre-Infinity War and Infinity war was supposed to be one chapter and in hindsight that was probably overly ambitious of me. That means there will now be 13 parts instead of 12. Anyway, as always let me know what you think, and hope you enjoyed! :)

[etherrealoblivion]

Chapter Seven: Spencerspective

Table Of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 2,512

MASTERLIST

~

Spencer didn’t fall asleep for hours. He tried not to keep watching the door, but keeping Y/N safe was more important than rest.

If you're exhausted tomorrow how are you supposed to protect her?

Finally, with that thought in his mind, he let himself succumb to slumber, which was surprisingly easy with Y/N cuddled against him.

After a night of horrible dreams and tossing and turning, he woke up to the wonderful smell of shampoo and flowers. Following his nose and breathing deeply, eyes still closed, he found himself suddenly with a face full of hair.

Spencer yanked back, eyes blowing open.

No. No. No.

It all came back in a rush. She’d gotten closer to him, holding him tighter than anyone had in a long time. And he hadn’t resisted. He’d given in to her so quickly.

It wasn’t like he didn’t like her. He did. Too much. His job was to protect her, not fall in . . . fall for her. Plus, it was taking advantage. She was only getting close to him because he was protecting her. It was a whole reverse Florence Nightingale situation. If they’d met anywhere else, she wouldn’t have given him a second glance.

But now, with her back pressed up against him — a little too much — how could he resist.

He had to. He couldn’t hurt her like that. He was just going to slip out of bed and go back to the floor. Without waking her up. Easy.

“Mm,” she moaned, stretching her spine and snuggling against him tighter.

Oh no. There was no way he could sneak away with one of his arms under her head and the other wrapped tightly around her waist. Not without waking her up.

How had he even gotten into this position? Looking back, it was his fault for pointing out just how large her bed truly was.

Wiggling a bit, she pulled a pillow closer, pushing herself even closer to him.

Now another problem was . . . rising. Literally.

It was a no-win situation. He could slip out of bed, almost definitely waking her up resulting in a potentially huge misunderstanding. Or, she’d wake up before he could leave the bed and certainly feel his. . . .

He had to get up.

As gently as he could, he removed his hand from her waist and slipped the other one out from under her head, placing it softly back on the pillow.

Her whimper at the loss of his warmth was like a dagger through the heart. More than anything, he wished he could jump back in bed with her and comfort her, holding her how he’d wanted to last night. How he’d found himself holding her this morning.

Why are you so crazy for this girl?! You barely know her!

“Spencer?” even with hours of sleep, her voice was still so melodic. If he weren’t so cold without her against him, he would have melted.

“Hey,” he said softly — too softly, get it together, Spencer!

“Is everything okay?” she rubbed her eyes sleepily, adorably. 

“Yeah, yeah, I just, um, had to go to the bathroom. I didn’t wanna wake you.”

“What time is it?”

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Nearly 1:30.”

“PM?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus.”

She sat up and blinked, looking at the space on the bed where Spencer had been. 

Spencer cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him.

“What do you want to do today?” He tried to say it casually like he cared more about what they’d do rather than what she wanted to do. It was unclear if that had come across.

“I don’t know,” she wasn’t meeting his eyes. “I kinda wanna go out?”

Spencer froze.

“Go out? Like on a . . .” he trailed off.

“Like a date,” she mumbled, then, quickly: “As a cover, of course. I just think it might be a good distraction.”

But Spencer was already shaking his head fervently.

“It’s too dangerous. In fact, nightclubs are responsible for about 60 percent of rapes and 20 percent of murders. It’s the perfect place to commit most crimes. No one is paying any attention and—“

“Spencer!” she interrupted, “I didn’t mean a nightclub. I mean, seeing you dance sounds amazing but that’s not really my scene. What about like a restaurant?”

“A restaurant?”

He considered it. Respectable restaurants had professional waiters, unlike nightclubs; better security; and, best of all, they were more spaced out, meaning less opportunity for a stranger to get close. He’d have to be on high alert, though.

“I know a great place nearby,” she spoke up, breaking his train of thought. 

“I don’t know. . . .” he said, still wary.

“It’s walking distance.”

His mistake was meeting her eyes. She looked so hopeful, so helpless. Oh god, there was a hint of puppy dog eyes. How could he resist?

Seriously, how?

“Okay,” he said, giving in as she let out a little squeak of happiness, heart warming at the sound. “But at the slightest danger, we leave.”

“Yes! Of course!”

“And no alcohol.”

She hesitated for a split second, then sighed.

“Yes, okay.”

“And no dancing,” he added, sliding into the bathroom, leaving the door partially open.

“WHAT!?”

~

“Hey, it’s almost seven.”

Spencer and Y/N had been slumped on the couch for hours watching old episodes of Doctor Who and arguing about the science of time travel.

“Time doesn’t work that way! It’s like a line.”

“But what if you went back and changed something?”

“No, no, no, you can’t do that because it would have already happened. Like if you in the future traveled to right now, it would happen right now, but since you didn’t just now, then it doesn’t happen in the future. It’s the rules of physics.”

She’d scoffed at that.

“Maybe time doesn’t follow the rules of physics.”

“Okay, speaking as a certified genius with a Ph.D. in Chemistry, you are on dangerous grounds.”

And then she’d thrown a pillow at him, the both of them descending into giggles.

Spencer had almost forgotten why he was there. Why he was really there.

“Oh, yeah. Should we go?”

Y/N laughed derisively, gesturing to her t-shirt and pajama shorts.

“Not like this. Gimme fifteen minutes.”

She jumped up and ran to her bedroom, closing the door.

“Door open!” Spencer reminded her.

She stuck her head out and blew a raspberry but she did leave the door slightly ajar. Not enough that he could see what she was doing, just enough to know that she was safe.

Meanwhile, he rummaged through his bags, trying to find something appropriate to wear. Everything he had was either too casual or way too casual.

Finally settling on a cornflower blue dress shirt, a grey sweater to wear over it, dark slacks, and a jet black tie, he stood, waiting by the door and fidgeting with his sweater so it covered his revolver. He knew it made her nervous and didn’t want to put any stress on her that could be avoided.

The door to her room opened and Spencer’s head shot up. His jaw practically dropped.

Sure, her outfit was dazzling, small sparkly black heels, a short swishy blue dress that was both casual and classy (and happened to match his shirt), and long dangly earrings with little clocks on the ends, but what really got him was the way she was looking at him. Expectantly, patiently.

He realized she was waiting for him to say something.

“You look . . .” he tried so hard to think of a compliment that expressed his awe while remaining professional. “Stunning.”

A smile lit up her face and Spencer’s heart soared.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said, adjusting his tie.

The contact made him jump.

“Ahem, shall we?” he opened the door and held out his elbow for her to take.

“We shall.”

So she took his arm and they set off into the night, locking the door securely behind them.

An hour later, they walked up outside a small bistro, Spencer slightly out of breath.

“When you said walking distance. . . .”

“Three miles is walking distance!” she said defensively.

“For superman!”

“Oh come on! You’re in the FBI, I'm sure you do your fair share of chasing bad guys.”

“I’m an FBI profiler. And while I do enjoy the occasional walk through the park, exercise isn’t exactly my strong suit,” he explained, gesturing to his lanky body.

“Suppose not. Then again, I saw the way you ran after that blue car. I know you’ve got some hidden muscles under all that . . . dork.”

He feigned offense at her remark.

“Pardon me, ma’am, I am a nerd. Very big difference.”

“Mm-hmm. Something only a dork would know,” she laughed, booping his nose and walking into the restaurant, Spencer taking a moment to be shocked before following her.

They got a nice table by the window at her request. It seemed she knew the waiter, calling him by his name and exchanging a brief greeting, introducing Spencer as Doctor Reid.

“Have you been here a lot?”

“No, never, but the waiter here, Tom, works at my regular coffee shop. Barista by day, waiter by night.”

Spencer laughed softly.

Okay, so she’s never been here before, meaning she’s never been here before with a guy, meaning she wanted to take you somewhere special. Meaning she likes y—

“Stop it!” he muttered to himself through gritted teeth. 

“Hmm?”

Spencer blushed.

“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering about what to order. I don’t really go to a lot of restaurants, to be honest.”

“Me either,” she smiled softly at him and Spencer found himself smiling back.

“Ready to order, Doctor Reid?” The waiter said, smiling.

“Ladies first,” Spencer said, relishing in the way Y/N smiled at him. This would be a long night.

~

“ . . . and the whole point of his writing is to experience a whole new idea of life!”

“Did you even read Walden?”

After the food came, a chicken empanada for Spencer and a bowl of pasta for Y/N, the conversation had somehow shifted to a heated discussion of what Henry David Thoreau’s ideals were.

“I’ve read . . . parts.” 

Spencer gave her a doubtful look and she sighed.

“I’ve read the Sparknotes.”

“Exactly! His point is to go live in the forest to achieve inner peace. The problem is, as humans, we need society and interactions with others in order to function. I actually had a coworker who had a cabin in the woods and he never mentioned becoming one with nature.”

“Well, maybe he just picked the wrong forest. Like, I couldn’t relax in the Forbidden Forest. It’s all about location.”

“Forbidden Forest?”

“Like from Harry Potter.”

Spencer glanced away.

“You’ve never read Harry Potter?” she said incredulously.

“Nope,” he blushed. “I’ve always preferred—“

“Oh god, please don’t say Twilight.”

“Nooo,” Spencer chuckled, “I was gonna say I prefer Doyle’s works.”

“Oh, I love Doyle!” she said happily. “Everybody always talks about Sherlock Holmes but have you read The Narrative of John Smith? It’s definitely some of his best work.”

Spencer’s mind went haywire. She had brought up his favorite book of all time in casual conversation. Who was this girl?

“Spencer?”

He snapped out of his daydream and looked at the woman in front of him. She was working on two doctorates, she loved Doyle and Doctor Who, she owned a goddamn bookstore, and she walked almost everywhere. How was he not supposed to fall for her? 

“Spencer?”

“Yes, yeah, sorry.”

The waiter came up and placed the check next to him.

“For the gentleman.” 

Avoiding eye-contact, Spencer took out his wallet to pay.

“Hey!” she swatted his hands away, making him drop his wallet into his lap. “We‘re not leaving yet! What’s the rush?”

This relaxed him a little. His nerves were starting to get to him. C’mon, Spencer, you’re a professional. Get it together.

“There’s no rush!” he quickly recovered. “I was simply checking to see if I had the adequate resources for the evening,” he smiled widely, waggling his eyebrows. But she had frozen, a shocked expression on her face.

“What?” she breathed.

Spencer cocked his head, not understanding her confusion. He was clearly reaching into his wallet for a surprise. What other resources did people keep in their walle—

Then it hit him.

“Oh! Oh, no I meant. . .” he fumbled with his wallet, trying desperately to pull out—

“This!” a shiny golden key. “I, uh, have a surprise planned.” It was extremely hard not to blush, and he was even less sure he was succeeding.

But, upon seeing her face contort into one of excitement, he was reassured.

“Okay! What are you waiting for? Let’s go now!”

And she jumped up, leaving the appropriate change in the check.

“C’mon!” Spencer was about to protest her paying, but she was grabbing his hand and pulling him out of his seat, out of the restaurant.

“Hey, I’m supposed to be surprising you, here!” he protested, stopping her just outside the door.

“Fine, lead the way, Doctor,” she giggled, bowing deeply.

Spencer curtseyed and walked off in the direction they had come, his woman on his arm.

A woman, he corrected himself. Not his.

“So,” Y/N said after a while of walking, “Where are you taking me?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“Ha. You know, statistically, around eighty percent of people who say that, secretly love them.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” she spun around and started to walk backward, maintaining eye contact, “but I’m not exactly a person that most statistics apply to.”

“So you don’t like surprises?”

She frowned.

“Touché.”

Spencer laughed as she spun back around, walking next to him. Their footsteps became a rhythm and they stayed silent for a while, just enjoying each other’s company.

Then, Y/N’s footsteps started to falter, breaking the pattern.

“You ok?” Spencer knew that people favoring the balls of their feet while walking was a sign of anxiety.

Rather than answer verbally, she yanked him down a dark alleyway, pushing against him.

“Y/N?”

She was holding him against her, her own back to the brick wall.

“I’m sorry, Spencer, this isn’t how I wanted it.”

“What are you sor—Mmf—“

A hand snaked around his tie and pulled him down sharply. Their lips met in an instant.

He should have pulled away. He should have stayed professional. He should have done anything but what he did.

Hands flying to the side of her face, he pulled her closer, coaxing open her mouth and moaning softly into it, feeling her hands travel down his waist, running along his belt.

Her lips were so soft. He’d wanted this so bad. And now that she was against him, lips against his, he realized how much he’d needed it. It wasn’t fair to her. He’d deal with that later.

But before he could process anything else, a sudden weight left his hips, her lips left his, and the unmistakable noise of a gunshot rang through the air behind him.

~

@aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13​ @yourmisosoup @queenofthebees003 @pinkdiamond1016 @eu-solidao

[minniewoos]

Royal Affairs ➣ Yang Jeongin

Genre: royal au, fluffy, slight crack

Pairing: reader x jeongin

Word Count: 9,207

Summary: Royalty can get boring, so you sneak into town every week. And maybe you fell in love with the cute stranger who’s willing to fight over bread. But he seems to have a secret himself.

Life was boring.

Rules rules rules some regulations and more rules. You were absolutely sick of it. Constricting corsets and gowns, proper poise and manners. You had to be a lady, a princess, always told of the high expectations you had to meet. While you knew your duties and you were happy to fulfill them, you desperately wanted a break from royalty every so often.

And ‘every so often’ meant every Saturday in towns square in front of the bakery, at 3 pm exactly. And it was a part of your routine that you looked forward to immensely. So on Saturday, you became a peasant. Shedding your gowns and jewelry in favor of simple dresses and boots. While it was certainly less appealing, it was a nice getaway. It also allows you to see the condition of your kingdom without bias, which helped.

And, of course, there was him. 

He called himself Jeongin. You met him one day when he seemed to be having trouble with one of the shopkeepers, the baker. So, you stepped in and helped to settle the small argument. After helping, the two of you just kept talking, and talking and talking, a lot. All while wandering around the town, enjoying the bustling streets and little simplicities. The long conversation didn’t end until you noticed the sun going down. And by then you realized you didn’t want to say goodbye to the entrancing stranger. So that’s how your routine started, you both agreed to meet up again the next week. Then the week after that as well, and so on.

Every Saturday. Towns square. Bakery. 3 pm.

There you stood; hands folded in front of you as you waited patiently; your hood was up as per usual. You watched your people in towns square as they crossed the cobbled streets. Children played among the crowd, running and giggling around the feet of the adults. You smiled fondly, remembering you used to get scolded by your caretaker for running inside the palace. You always liked to pull her strings when you were younger.

“Oh! Miss y/n, waiting for your little boyfriend again huh?” The baker suddenly greeted you, his tray of fresh bread was held between his hand and his portly belly. Your mouth began to water at the smell.

“He’s a bit late isn’t he.” the baker added as he glanced around towns square.

“A little,” You shrugged, eyeing up the fresh bread, “he lives a bit far so it happens occasionally.”

“I see, you better give him a good smack for making a young pretty lady like you wait.” He jested as he grabbed a roll of bread off his tray and handed it to you, “Here you go, you look like a wolf staring at it.”

You took it gratefully and laughed, “You know how I always enjoy your food, Mr. Baker. Thank you.”

“Always a pleasure, I’m serious when I say give that kid a good smack.” The baker smiled and returned to his bakery. You rolled your eyes and bit into the roll, and you smiled and sighed contentedly. You can confidently say you’ve grown very fond of this meeting spot. Not only because they serve delicious bread, but it’s where you first met Jeongin. And continued to meet with him there, it held a lot of good memories. Even if he was trying to fight with the baker the first time you met.

Speaking of him, you looked up and spotted Jeongin rushing through the crowd, maneuvering his way around everybody without trying to bump into anybody. You took another bite of the roll and smiled. You raise your hand up in an ecstatic wave.

“Oi, did the baker come by already? I missed him?” Jeongin ran up, slightly out of breath as he noticed the partly bitten roll in your hands.

“Just a moment too late.”

“Aish really?” His lips turned down in a pout as he rested his hands on his hips. He looked at the bakery doors quizzically. Probably wondering if he could beg the baker for another roll of bread. You decided to save him the trouble with the baker.

“Here you big baby, stop frowning like that.” You smiled softly and broke your roll in half, handing him the piece.

“Ah see y/n, this is why I like you.” His pouty face turned into a knowing smile. He took it happily and ruffled your hair up, then shifted so he was leaning into you so his elbow had a place to rest. When he was comfortable, his leg bent so his ankles crossed using you as an armrest, he opened his mouth wide and ate his half in one big bite. You stared at him in gross wonder as he munched down on his snack.

“What?” He looked at you confused, still chewing.

“I can never understand how you can fit so much in your mouth. You devour everything.” You tsked and eyed him as he finished the roll. “Actually you just have a big mouth.”

“And you have a big head.”

You shot him a look and smacked his arm, “Excuse me but you don’t say that to a lady.”

“And you don’t tell gentlemen they have big mouths-”

Before he could continue you smacked his arm again, earning a confused look from him. “What was that one for?”

“That was a request from Mr. Baker,” You smiled cheekily at him, “He said, and I quote, ‘give that kid a good smack.’”

Jeongin rolled his eyes and put an arm around your shoulder comfortably, the two of you began to walk downtown. He then thought for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, “Yea…he’s never liked me much huh?”

“He likes you; he just likes to tease you is all. Especially since you fought with him over his own bread.” You said, playing with his hand that was hanging off your shoulder. Twisting his rings and twiddling his fingers.

“In my defense, he gave me the smallest loaf and I was starving that day.”

“That’s no excuse baby.” You said with a playful tone on your tongue, “Remember I saved your arse. He was about to beat you.”

“Yea, my hero.” He kissed the top of your head affectionately with a giggle.

It was the small moments that made you happy with Jeongin. The playful banter and teasing remarks that were exchanged. The way you two acted around each other was so casual and informal, that you grew to like him at an incredibly fast rate. There was no bowing or royal treatments with him. He treated you like a normal person and not like someone to be worshipped and praised. Granted, he thought you were a peasant just like him, but it didn’t matter. Jeongin saw more than what was on the surface, and that did absolute wonders for your heart.

Not to mention he was pretty handsome, but he doesn’t need to know that.

At some point, you were laying in the grass under an apple tree. There was a nice, cool breeze wafting through the air. Jeongin was beside you, his hands behind his head and eyes closed peacefully. You turned to the side to look at him, a smile crept onto your face as you basked in the peaceful moment. There were probably a million things you could say about this boy and just how much you care about him. Suddenly a question made its way into your train of thought, so you reached out and poked his cheek.

“Hm?” He peaked his eye open.

You sat up and brought your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, “Tell me, why do you like someone like me?”

Jeongin propped himself up on his elbows as he looked at you, his head tilted a bit, “Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious. I’m just wondering why ya know.” You then poked him in the chest, prodding him to answer, “Now answer me, I wanna know.”

“Hmm…only if I get something in return” He took your hand from his chest and played with it, gently rubbing his thumb in circles over the back of your hand, “deal?”

“Okay deal.”

Jeongin then looked up, his eyes closed and face scrunched up in concentration. He stayed like that for a few moments, your hand still in his. Then his face relaxed albeit his eyes were still shut. He uttered hesitantly, “You remind me of a princess.”

You cocked an eyebrow, very curious as to what he meant, “How so?”

“You are…very beautiful. In everything you do y/n. From the way you talk and walk and just, interact with others. You aren’t fazed by what people want from you, how people tell you to act is different from how you really are. For example, from the moment we met you weren’t afraid to confront me and yell at me.” Jeongin laughed, remembering the memory fondly.

“I wasn’t happy at first, but then we kept talking…and I realized you have your own color to you. A very beautiful color. I see a strong girl who can take care of herself and not listen to nonsense from others. I also see a playful girl, who likes to tease and mess around. All while keeping dignity and poise to her character. And that’s what made me want to keep meeting you. I think you’re very beautiful.” He finished off and nodded to himself, then squeezed your hand affectionately. A faint smile was visible on the corner of his lips as he looked down in embarrassment. But you could tell that he was sincere. That this boy meant every single word he said. And as you looked at him, your heart flipped and jumped and exploded in your chest. You squeezed his hand back and smiled fondly.

You put your hand on his chin and lifted his head up, he looked up and locked eyes with yours. Leaning in, you pecked his lips lightly. A soft and brief kiss. You pulled away just a centimeter before uttering three words that filled your head, your heart, and your entire being.

“I love you.”

After hearing you, Jeongin reached up and rested a hand on your cheek, his eyes bearing into yours intensely. He slowly leaned in to close the minuscule gap before pressing his lips against yours. He was gentle, the kiss was gentle as if he was scared you would break or push him away. Perhaps he was hesitant for your permission.

So, as naturally as if felt, you moved your hand up and threaded your fingers through his dark tresses. Curling your fingers slightly as you pushed deeper into the kiss. And it felt as if a warmth spread through your chest, all your love for this boy expressed through this kiss. Simple and innocent yet full of love. You were consumed by your love for him, as thoughts of him ran through your cloudy mind. You thought of the smile he has when he teased you, how he laughs with you, and the way his eyes crinkle through it all. Your head was foggy, but your heart was warm. A truly beautiful first kiss shared under an old rickety apple tree. And you wouldn’t have had it any other way than with Jeongin.

You pulled away for a breath, resting your forehead against his as your chest rose and fell lightly. You felt his soft breaths as he caught his breath as well. You looked up into his doe eyes as you kept your hand in his hair, twirling a couple strands. Then you smiled. Then he smiled. And you both laughed lightheartedly.

“I love you too, by the way.”

Oh, what this boy does to you.

∎∎∎

Seven days after your first kiss and you were still swooning over it.

You laid in bed, hands clasped over your heart as it fluttered just thinking about it. The birds chirped happily outside your window and the sun shone brighter than it ever had. The smile on your face has been there since you woke up and it wouldn’t disappear. Why?

The day was officially Saturday, and that means that you see Jeongin once more. A new nervousness bubbled up in your chest, it excited you. You squeezed your eyes and sat up quickly, throwing your covers off and hopping out of bed. You did a little hop, then another and shook your head. Trying to get the jitters out of your system, you began to tidy up your room.

When your maid walked in, it startled her to see you already up and about. Your drapes were already open wide and tied back, your chosen dress for the day was laid out, and you were now making your bed. The look on your dear maid’s face was startled and horrified.

“Princess! Here, let me, please,” She shooed you away from the bed and began making it instead. “You shouldn’t be doing peasants work like this. Why on earth are you up so early, your highness?”

You smiled and shrugged, your eyes shone with rare enthusiasm, “I don’t know, it’s a good day.”

Your maid gave you an odd look, “Your highness, please excuse me, but you’ve been especially cheerful lately.”

“Really? How so.”

She leaned in and lowered her voice as if telling a secret. You witnessed this action often since the maids were fond of gossiping. “There’s been rumors circling that you’ve found a lover, your highness”

You puckered your lips and tilted your head in thought, your eyes to the ceiling, “How’d they start? Is it just cause I’m happy?”

“I assume so, girls have a glimmer in their eyes when they fall in love, you know” She finished making your bed and smiled brightly towards you, “And you have it. The past whole week you’ve had it.”

You shrugged once more, a knowing smile on your face as you give your maid a mischievous look. She dropped her jaw slightly before a smile crept its way up, she stood straight happily, “If you don’t mind me asking…who is it..? One of the knights, or the servers… oh, the duke!”

You put your finger to your lips and winked at her, “Now if I say, then it wouldn’t be as exciting now, would it. Anyway, help me get dressed for the day, I want it to start as soon as possible.”

“Oh, of course, your highness!”

After your day started you rushed through your daily tasks with a renewed excitement. There wasn’t a moment you could sit still or when your mind hadn’t wandered to Jeongin. And people could tell. But you only stayed silent with the usual mischievous glint in your eyes. Some knew why you were so distracted, but others were in the dark. And you assumed they thought it was just the princess being the princess again. You’ve always been known throughout the castle to be a little difficult at times. While you’ve calmed down over the years, you were still known to be a little cheeky regarding royal matters. So, you went through the day of the court, keeping up with laws, continuing etiquette classes, and conversing with aristocrats. All with half a mind. The other half was, of course, stuck on Jeongin.

It was only when you were conversing with the marquess about something is when your mindlessness was brought up. In front of the court officials too. You were in a meeting, of some sort.

“Oh lord, princess y/n! I’m aware of the reputation you have and your eccentricities, but this is a topic of high importance! This isn’t trivial so if you would please pay attention.” The marquess scolded you, his tone stern. You snapped back to reality and apologized, but truthfully, you were unaware of the topic at hand.

“Do you even know what we’re talking about.” He rubbed his temples and heaved a great sigh.

You gave him a long blank stare and refused to answer, but everyone at the table knew you had zoned off long ago.

“This is about your future,” Your mother, the queen, prompted, “more specifically, your espousal.”

“Sorry, my what?”

“Your hand in marriage, dear.” Your mother said, visibly strained and agitated.

“Oh.”

A pause.

“Wait my what?” Your jaw dropped in utter shock; this had never been discussed previously. This topic completely caught you off guard, “To…to who?”

You could feel the pressure of the court officials around you, and you felt completely unprofessional at this moment. But you couldn’t care less. Your only concern was Jeongin, he doesn’t even know you’re the princess. Much less getting married.

“Close your mouth dear, it’s very unladylike.” You mother admonished lightly, “That is what we’re discussing right now. There are quite a few suitors who are very desirable. In terms of status, riches, and history. It would do well to consider them and listen.” She put emphasis on her last word. You looked down but lifted you chin a moment later.

“I see…” You say hesitantly, starting to regain your composure, “Who are the suitors.”

You look around the table, out of the aristocracy, only the duke and the marquess are attending this meeting. The rest are officials of the court, aka, the people who help with decision making.

“Many very suitable options are being considered. Our very own duke or even the marquess’ son. That is why they are in attendance at this meeting.” Your mother explained but didn’t seem fond of the idea of you marrying them. But continued with a lighter heart, “There are princes from other kingdoms who wish to have your hand in marriage right now. At the moment, though, our top option would be the prince from the neighboring kingdom. It is almost guaranteed that he will be your fiance. I’ve heard he’s a very charming young man and close to your-”

You stood from your chair suddenly as a thought dawned on you, you haven’t kept track of the time. You cut your mother off mid-sentence, “What time is it?”

“I was speaking, y/n, I am fully aware you can behave better than this. You haven’t acted like this since you were-” You cut your fuming mother off again.

“This is urgent. What time is it?” You stayed standing.

“The meeting started at 2pm, dear, you are completely out of order. Why are you acting like this today?” You mother was frazzled at your actions. But you promptly ignored her and began walking out. You were in that meeting for quite a while and you didn’t want to keep Jeongin waiting.

Before you completely left the room, you turned around towards the bewildered faces in the room and bowed apologetically, “I’m sorry about my behavior today, but I have very urgent business to attend to.” Then you left.

Once the door closed behind you, you ran for your room. You rushed and grabbed your peasants’ clothes quickly to get dressed. Wiping the nicely done makeup on your face, stripping your elegant gown, and undoing the nice bun in your hair. Exchanging all of those comforts for a simple but flowing dress, a messy braid in your hair, and a bare face. You shoved your boots on and rushed out of the castle without being seen as your routine called for. But this time you were the one who was late. You checked the time and it was already past 3pm. You frowned as you snuck into town and blended into the crowded streets, making your way towards the bakery as quickly as you could. Now you knew how Jeongin felt when he ran late.

Once the bakery was in view, it wasn’t long until you saw Jeongin as well. Standing patiently with two rolls of bread in his hand. That elated feeling you felt this morning came back to you. Only seeing him brought happiness to you. You raised your hand up high and waved, a big smile made its way onto your face once you saw him. He smiled wide as well, showing that toothy grin you fell in love with.

When you got to him you gave him a big hug, “Thanks for waiting.”

“Well duh, you wait for me like every other week.” He wrapped his arms around you before handing you the extra roll, “Why were you late anyway?”

“I got caught up in some family business is all.” You rolled your eyes and took a bite of the bread roll, it felt warm still so you couldn’t have made him wait too long.

He nodded as he shoved the roll in his mouth as if he hadn’t been fed in weeks, like usual. Wow, you missed him in just a week. You rolled your eyes at him but smiled fondly.

“Okay so, today I have plans for us.” Jeongin began once he swallowed his mouthful.

You perked up, “Ohhh really?”

“Yep, I want to take you on a journey. To the kingdom I live in, it’s a short trip I promise.” He urged with a very animated smile was present. The lights in his eyes showed just how proud he was of this idea. “I want to show you so much, it’s beautiful there.”

“The neighboring kingdom?” You asked, slipping your hand into his. A slight discomfort settled into the bottom of your stomach. You remembered what your mother had said before you left and caused a scene. One of your supposed suitors was the prince of that kingdom, the suitor who was the top choice to be your fiance. You really doubt you’d run into any royalty there, they typically don’t wander the town streets (except you). But it just didn’t give you a good feeling, and it must’ve shown on your face. Jeongin squeezed your hand in reassurance.

“Listen, I know it’s sudden, but if it’s okay then I’ll be able to bring you back by the end of the day. Unless you wanna stay the weekend, there’s too much there to see in one day.” He said, excitement still underlying in his tone.

You were hesitant, very hesitant. There were a lot of things that could go wrong and you can’t be gone from the castle for too long. So, you thought about it for a moment, and back to that meeting table and talk of marriage. Talk of marrying a man you didn’t even know. The people there treating you as if you were a jewel to be fought over. Not even considering how you felt, constantly telling you how to act. Even your own mother, her words echoed in your head, scolding you for your actions. Thinking of all of that, it started a fire within you. You grew resentful of their treatment, and so, even if for a weekend, you were going to escape it.

You nodded up at him, your signature mischievous grin appearing. The glint in your eyes matching your cheeky smile. “Yea! Let’s go, I’ve never been there before.”

Jeongin instantly lit up, his beautiful eyes crinkling and his smile wide. He bounced a bit in eagerness, he held onto your hand firmly as he pulled you through the streets. The bounce still in his step. His happiness was contagious even, causing you to bark out a laugh and run alongside him.

“I want to show you so much in so little time,” He said, still smiling, he looked a little nervous but elated at the same time. He cursed quietly, smile still wide, “I don’t know how I’ll show you everything.”

“Slow down.” You pulled him back gently and slowed down the pace, “Step by step Innie.”

He listened as he fell into step beside you and leaned forward as he took a glance at you, hands clasped behind his back. He had a teasing grin, “Innie…? That’s new.”

You hadn’t even realized you said it, a light pink dusted your cheeks, “Ah, is that bad? Too much?”

“No, I like it.” He said amused, then thought for a moment as his nose scrunched up, “Just don’t say it in front of people.”

“Aww, would you be embarrassed.” You teased, reaching to pinch his cheek. But he just swatted your hand away.

“Of course, so.” He held a finger to his lips in a hushing motion. You only nodded, holding back a laugh.

When the two of you reached the edge of the town and passed through the gate, you discovered he had a horse. It never occurred to you that he could’ve owned a horse since you knew they were expensive for peasants to own.

“Why are you so shocked?” Jeongin asked, looking over his shoulder at you while he attended to his steed, “How else would I get here.”

You shrugged, “I assumed you took a carriage or rode with somebody else. He’s a beautiful horse though.”

He smiled proudly, “Thanks, he’s been with me since I was little.”

He helped you onto his horse and climbed on afterward himself. Now, you’ve ridden horses plenty of times, it was required as a princess. But Jeongin doesn’t know that, so you let him take the lead as you wrap your arms around his waist. Pretending to be ignorant as he explained the safest way to ride like this. You guessed that since women don’t usually ride horses for sport or drive carriages, he felt the need to fill you in. You listened patiently.

At some point during the ride, you rested your head against his back. Your arms were latched around him tightly as you leaned into him. Maybe you would get into trouble for doing this. For running away with a boy to another kingdom, even if it was only for a weekend. Perhaps you’ll get some privileges taken away. You could get scolded by your father. Maybe they’ll even send out a search party. But right now, at this moment where it was only you and Jeongin, it would all be worth it. For him, you would do anything. Thoughts of eloping flitted across your mind, but you quickly shooed those away. You didn’t want to think too far into the future right now. You smiled, content, as your eyelids grew heavy and you slipped into a light slumber.

The next thing you knew Jeongin was waking you up, loudly. He shook you gently but shouted as he gestured ecstatically towards the kingdom in front of you. “Welcome! Come on.”

He helped you down from his horse as you rubbed the grogginess out of your eyes. You yawned and stretched your arms out, taking in the beautiful town in front of you. It seemed as if you were on the edge of town, but on top of a small ledge; you were sure Jeongin stopped here to give you a good look of the town from higher ground. And Jeongin wasn’t wrong, it really was beautiful. It seemed very lively and full of bright colors and you thought it suited Jeongin very well. The town was big, bustling, and thriving. You also noticed the castle in the distance, on the whole other end of town.

“What do you think?” He rested his hands on his hips and stood beside you, his steed tied up securely behind him.

“You don’t ever disappoint Innie, it’s gorgeous.” You smile as you take in the scene before you, you bounce on the balls of your feet. “So, what do you have to show me?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” He took your hand in his and guided you towards town, “I’ll show you my favorite places here and then by the end of the day we should arrive home. Okay?”

You nodded, your lips thinned nervously but followed obediently anyway. Sudden anxiety settled in the pit of your stomach as it truly dawned on you, you were going home with him. And you were going to meet his parents and family and see this whole new side of him. You were both excited and anxious. Thoughts flooded your head, all the things that could go wrong. Meanwhile, Jeongin didn’t seem nervous in the slightest, he leads you confidently with his chin up and shoulders back. And seeing him so unnerved gave you a little boost, so you copied his actions and lifted your chin and smiled. This is just another adventure, and you’re going to make the most of it. And ignore the little seed of nervousness in you.

So, for the rest of the day, Jeongin gave you a tour of about half of the giant town. Which was impressive considering he took you to about ten different places in the span of a few hours. And those were only his favorite places, there were still much more left for you to see; well, according to him. A few of the places he showed you was the beautifully done fountain in his towns square, the theatre where he admitted he actually had a hobby in singing (which surprised you), and a building he claims is the best bakery in town. Throughout the day the two of you made your way across town. You never spent too long at each place, and it really perplexed you as to why he was rushing so much. If you didn’t know him better you would’ve chalked it up to his excitement making him rush. But something else was up and you were going to find out.

Just as you were going to question him on his strange antics, he spun around to you and announced, “One more place to go today!”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement and tugged on his sleeve before he pulled you to the next destination, “Hey, Jeongin?”

He paused and tilted his head, “What’s up?”

“I know you’re super excited to give me the tour and everything, but is something else on your mind? You seem a bit too eager, more than usual.” You questioned, concern underlying your innocent question. It was almost as if he was overcompensating for some nervousness with the over-enthusiasm.

“Ah…” He hesitated, then gave you a reassuring smile, “I guess just meeting my family, they’re good people though. I promise it’ll all work out. Okay?”

You smiled and nodded, but it really sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than you. You could tell whatever was bothering him was starting to get to him. So, you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and the two of you walked towards the next destination calmly. A much different pace than the rest of the day, so it gave you a breather and time to actually think. While Jeongin was nervous about you meeting his family, you were terrified as well. You were a princess and technically not allowed to even be acquaintances with Jeongin, much less be in a relationship. While he has yet to know this, you’d have to tell him someday. And you weren’t prepared for the guilt you’d feel from lying to him. It’s going to be hard lying to his family as well.

During your quiet walk lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Jeongin lead you to the castle. You stared up at the looming building, you weren’t surprised he would take you here. It was basically the most notable place in the entire kingdom, and since he lived in the capital, it was easy to be able to see it. It was very grand and had quite a few differences to your castle back home. At least from the outside, perhaps the interior would surprise you; but for now, just admiring the exterior with Jeongin was enough for you.

“The castle matches the town; it gives off a really…strong feel.” You smiled, although it was a bit strained. You searched for the right words to use, but it was a bit difficult considering your possible future fiancé lived in this very building. It honestly pained you to think about.

Jeongin nodded as he stared up at the castle, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His face looked oddly stern as if he was having a stare-off with the prominent building. You figured it was the family stuff getting to him.

“Hey, we should get going now, it’s starting to get dark out.” You tug on his hand as you glanced at the sun dipping into the horizon. The orange sky slowly growing dimmer as the darkness began to spread, it unsettled you a bit. Especially since Jeongin was being so quiet.

He nodded again and began leading the way. You fully expected him to lead you back to his home in town, but he didn’t. This boy was taking you around to the back of the castle, his hand clenched around yours tighter than usual.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

But he only flashed you a smile, probably meant to be reassuring but instead seemed strained. Well, that didn’t help you at all.

“Where are you going.” You insisted, pulling on his arm. But he kept walking to what seemed like the servant’s quarters of the castle, seeing as it was near the stables and probably kitchens.

“Just trust me okay? It’s a little hard to explain.” He finally answered you, “You won’t have to do anything, cause this might be a little overwhelming.”

That statement confused you immensely.

Was he a servant? Was he sneaking you in to show you around? Maybe he was a little ashamed of it. You stared at his back with a worried look as he came up to a wooden door.

“Are we allowed to do this?”

“Probably not.”

He proceeded to knock on the door, and it wasn’t the normal steady knocking either. He knocked in an irregular pattern as if to signal somebody like a secret code. You really thought he was breaking you into the goddamn king’s castle.

A moment later, and before you could comment, a lady opened the door. She was dressed in typical servants’ garb and seemed a bit older, a little motherly. She saw Jeongin and let out a relieved sigh, “Goodness, you come home a little later every week. Sometimes I wonder if you’ll ever come back one day.”

Jeongin gave the lady a shy smile, but he seemed to calm down around her, even if just a little. His shoulders relaxed and were just less tense overall. You guessed it couldn’t have been his mother, considering he was so nervous thinking about his family before. He held up his hands as if in surrender, “I know, I shouldn’t worry you. But I have a good reason this time.”

“It better be a damn good reason.”

You saw his shoulders rise and fall a little as he took a deep breath, then stepped to the side. He smiled cheekily at the lady as he spread his arms to gesture towards you, with jazz hands and all. “Ta-da!”

You could only lift your hand in an awkward wave, “Hello.”

The woman’s eyes just about popped out of her head, she gave him a look that could kill, “This isn’t a good idea. If this girl is the little girlfriend you found then this isn’t a good idea.”

Jeongin only shrugged, his cheeky grin still wide, “You can’t stop me.”

Jeongin took your hand again and pulled you through the shabby little entrance to the castle. At this point, you were seriously questioning his intentions and what he was even doing. He wouldn’t even explain why you were going inside the castle, much less sneaking in through the servant’s quarters. And the servant lady’s reaction was not good in the slightest. You were close to blowing and demanding to know what was going on. But before you could, Jeongin began talking again, just not to you.

“Mrs. Abbe” He looked at the servant lady, and gave her a pleading look, “Would you help me out, please?”

“Well I don’t really have a choice, now do I” She sighed, looking tired as she gave in to his puppy dog look. “Always a pleasure, your highness.”

You perked up at that phrase, ‘your highness’, it sounded sarcastic. But this whole day has been wild and you couldn’t tell anymore. The phrase only served to confuse you more. You looked at Jeongin for an explanation, eyebrows furrowed. Even he looked a little fidgety as he shuffled from foot to foot as he stared at you like he was gauging a reaction from you.

“Your highness?” You put a hand on your hip.

“Yes.”

“Was she being serious?”

“Yes.” He shifted his weight again.

“Why?”

“I’m the uh, I’m the prince.”

Barking out a laugh you rested a hand on his arm, “Yea, and I’m the princess!”

“Okay but I’m serious” He insisted, looking a little offended you didn’t believe him. And well, how could you? It sounded ridiculous. And you admit, even you sounded a little mocking saying you were the princess all of a sudden. But you knew for a fact, that you were truly the princess. But Jeongin? You could only believe he was trying to pull a lame joke.

“Yea, I am too.” You urged back, a serious look on your face.

“Ugh…” Jeongin looked a little distressed as he looked to the servant for help, Mrs. Abbe. “Okay, we don’t have time for this. Please, Mrs. Abbe, go take her to get dressed. And I’ll meet you in the dining hall. Okay?”

And with that, Jeongin began to leave in a rush. But before he left the room completely, he turned around to you, a worried look across his features. “Y/n, I promise everything will be okay. I know you’re really confused and maybe even a little scared right now. But seriously, you don’t have to worry.”

And with that, he was gone. Leaving you with Mrs. Abbe, who gave you an apologetic look.

“He’s been like this since he was little, dear.” She said, a little reminiscent.

“I’m just at a loss for words ma’am. A total loss for words.” You tell her frankly and throw your hands in the air, exasperated. It was a good day until you arrived at the castle, and he began acting all weird and cryptic. Then he sneaks you into the castle without explaining a single thing, leaving you with a servant you’ve never met. And he expects you to be okay?

You loved him so much, but the confused state he left you in only irritated you.

She gave you a knowing smile and rested a comforting hand on your back, in a reassuring voice she urged, “Come, let’s get you all prettied up. You’re a beautiful young lady.”

∎∎∎

You were sulky.

It’s been an hour or two since you’ve seen Jeongin and you’ve got absolutely no explaining from Mrs. Abbe. She just said it wasn’t her place to tell you while she dressed you up. But you really couldn’t be mad at the woman, she was essentially just doing her job. And wow, she had an eye for gowns. So yea, you couldn’t be mad at her.

She fitted you into a very simple yet elegant white gown, it was a perfect evening gown in your opinion. The sleeves were the right length, the skirt wasn’t too bulky, and it had just the right amount of decora. She even did your hair and make-up, which you were very satisfied with as well. Since she weaved your hair into a classic bun and applied your make-up lightly. Overall, you think she did a more suitable job than your maid back home. While yours was very good with make-up and everything, she tended to be heavy-handed, which meant a lot of make-up every day. Even her fashion choices were more extravagant than needed.

After thanking her graciously, she leads you through the castle walls to what you assumed would be the dining room. Where Jeongins supposed to meet you, apparently. You didn’t know anymore and quite frankly, you were just ready to squeeze an explanation out of him.

You were very reluctant to believe his whole prince gimmick. It was Jeongin for goodness sakes, the same kid who shoved whole rolls of bread into his gob; it was hard to believe he was a prince. Your Jeongin who you met fighting your local baker. Was he really a prince?

You arrived at the dining hall and it seemed you were the first one there, the table was all set with only four plates and sets of silverware set out. Servants and maids were standing by the walls of the room, ready to be called when needed; just like your home. There was space for you, Jeongin, and his…parents. There was an uneasiness that overcame you as Mrs. Abbe lead you to your seat, the fourth seat two down from the head of the table.

“Wait wait wait…this isn’t a joke, he wasn’t just messing around? He’s serious?” You got Mrs. Abbe’s attention, your lips felt dry all of a sudden as her lips thinned in a smile. She rested her hand on yours for a moment of comfort before leaving the dining halls quickly. You drew in a deep breath and sighed. You sat properly now, ankles cross with your hands in your lap; it was almost instinct at this point being in a castle.

You held your head down as you thought, so if Jeongin really was the prince and this wasn’t some elaborate prank, then you were going to meet his parents. Aka the king and queen.  

And if he really was the prince…then he was one of your suitors. You gasped and covered your gaping mouth with your hand. So Jeongin, the prince of the neighboring kingdom…was the suitor from the neighboring kingdom. It was too good to be true, this had to be a dream, right?

You gulped as you looked around the room, the servants kept their eyes and heads focused straight ahead, as per usual. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, it felt too real to be a dream.

There was no way he could’ve known you were the princess, he looked exasperated when you said that you were a princess. He obviously didn’t believe you. So, what was he doing bringing his ‘peasant’ girlfriend to the king and queen? If he were to be engaged to a princess, there was no way his parents would allow him to be with a mere peasant. It’s just how royalty works, sadly. But he truly believed there could be a chance, seeing as he’s trying so hard for this.

You came to the conclusion that both you and Jeongin were mad. A crazy little pair, you could say.

You figured it all out without even an explanation from the boy, although, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.

You heard the large white doors in the entrance open up, causing your head to perk up. You saw Jeongin walking up to you, a very nervous look on his face as the doors shut behind him. He looked at you, his lips thinned nervously as if he was expecting the worst reaction out of you.

But you were more focused on just how well he cleaned up. Being that he was the prince, he must’ve been used to the royal outfits. But you never saw him in anything better than a brown tunic and boots. So the royal blue suit with gold accents was a big shock for you. He also styled his hair a certain look better than the usual messy look. It gave him a much more mature aura, and like he wasn’t always that boy exploring the streets with you. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t blushed a little from his new look.

He came up to you quickly, taking the seat beside you and turning towards you so that his knees were facing you. He held his hands up as if to calm you down.

“Okay, y/n, I can explain I promise. I’ll explain everything now.” He said, his tone very rushed and articulated. He was acting as if you were a bomb about to burst. And honestly, if you hadn’t figured this whole situation out yourself, you would have been a very mad bomb of a girl.

You give him a blank stare for a moment before bursting out into laughter. You found it endearing he was so worried over you, but also the fact at how weird this situation was. He looked confused.

“Jeongin…” you take his hands in yours and give him a patient look, “I’m not mad.”

You see the poor boy visibly relax, but you speak before he can say something.

“I understand everything okay? I am here to meet your family, who are the king and queen. And you are the prince who fell in love with a peasant girl, who’s just trying to get their blessing. Right?” You say calmly, he probably thought it was too good to be true.

He nods frantically, very visibly relieved, “Yes, yes, that’s exactly it. Y/n you’re taking this really well. I’m actually really proud of you with how calm you are… oh, and you look beautiful by the way.” He smiled at you, a smile that reaches his eyes and stretches his cheeks. He really looks at you like you were a gem.

You laugh bashfully at his comment, and you realize he’s never seen you in any nice clothes either. It must’ve been shocking for him too.

“Thanks, baby, you look really nice.” You tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, “you clean up nicely”

“I think you’re always beautiful,” he said as if it were the most natural thing to say, he kept those big puppy dog eyes trained on you like you were the love of his life. Oh wait, that’s ‘cause you were.

“Oh, Innie. I gotta tell you.” You say urgently, knowing full well he won’t believe you but you say it anyway to see his reaction, “I’m a princess.”

“Come on, you said that joke earlier. I know it sounded ridiculous when I told you I was the prince but don’t make fun of me like that.” He pouted playfully.

“But I really am the princess”

“Well, I mean, not yet.”

“Not yet? You wanna get married?” You say, pleasantly surprised. Not expecting him to say something so serious like that. Of course, you knew of the arranged marriage, but he didn’t. This was him genuinely speaking.

Your little comment seemed to turn him bashful. His eyes widened as he realized what he implied and his cheeks reddened significantly. He moved one hand up to hide his face, his eyes peeking out from behind his fingers.

“I uh, well, I mean… future- uh…” he stammered.

“I’m just teasing” you giggled.

The two of you stayed like that, just the usual banter. It was as if nothing had changed and it was only the two of you in the room. The royalty and grand decor and comfy lifestyle didn’t change a thing about your relationship. You were you and Jeongin was Jeongin. Very glad you could still act normally around each other.

It was a few moments later when you and Jeongin were interrupted. The both of you were having a good hearty laugh when two figures waltzed into the room. And you could tell very easily they were the king and queen. They had the poise and attitude most royalties had, not to mention the attire. The comforting atmosphere quickly died the moment the door clicked open. It was suddenly very cold and tense. You and Jeongin went silent and sat up straight in your chairs. You saw Jeongin’s Adam’s apple bob, an unpleasant look on his face.

The king and queen quickly took notice of the extra guest they had sitting at their table. They say down respectfully and gave you an odd look.

“Jeongin, we were supposed to discuss some private matters with you. That’s why we requested to have dinner alone.” The queen, his mother, side-eyed you for a split second before resting her gaze on her son.

“Yes, we can discuss it now mother.” He nodded firmly.

The looks of confusion on their faces were apparent. But they both turned towards you and the king said respectfully, “Well, introduce us to your acquaintance here.”

“I, yes, of course. This is y/n.” He said, and you stood up and curtsied. But he didn’t stop there and very nervously continued, “She is my girlfriend, and I wanted to introduce her to you and get your blessings. I wish to stay with her.”

His parents looked conflicted, his father a bit angry and his mother more confused. His father spoke up, “Jeongin just earlier this week he discussed your possible engagement. This is very unexpected and improper of you, you know better. How long has this been going on without our knowledge?”

“Your father is right dear; you have a very good chance with the princess from the neighboring kingdom. If only you would take the chance to meet with her before doing such rash actions like this. Is this why you were so opposed to getting married?” His mother berated him. But she also confirmed your suspicions that Jeongin was indeed one of your suitors. It was odd to listen to them without their knowledge that you, the princess, was there in the room.

“Yes, but I believe you would really like y/n. She’s a very good girl and is so much more than she can initially seem. And I really really like her, if you would just give her a chance then-”

“What family is she from.” His father demanded.

Jeongin was stopped in his tracks and suddenly grew silent, his mouth closing and his shoulders sank a little.

“What family is she from, what is her status?” He repeated sternly.

But Jeongin couldn’t find the words to respond. His face dropped and he looked at you as if asking for help.

“I am from the neighboring kingdom” You spoke up, “…your highness.“ You added as an afterthought, not used to saying the phrase so often said to you.

“Is she a peasant, Jeongin”

No response from him. His jaw was set and he refused to respond.

“Jeongin do you expect us to allow you to wed a peasant girl over a princess? This alliance we obtain from your marriage to this princess is very beneficial to your kingdom and your people. You can’t be selfish like this.” He scolded once more. And while Jeongin was silent and unable to come up with the right words, his back stood straight and he held a stern face. And you did the same, you were calm and poised and proper. You weren’t intimidated much at all, just thinking of how to tell them that you were actually the princess. The whole situation was pure coincidence and even you couldn’t comprehend how you became so lucky.

“Jeongin if you have nothing to say I’m afraid we’ll have to ask your friend to leave.” His mother began, “I’m very sorry about this but you are aware of your duties and what you have to do. I’ve heard she has an… eccentric personality much like you. So, I highly recommend you consider your position. You must realize how foolish you’re being, bringing a mere peasant to have our blessing?” His mother questioned, purely astonished at her son’s actions.

“Your highness, if I may speak.” You spoke up politely. It would be hard to explain yourself without sounding absolutely mad, but you had to do it somehow.

“And what would you have to say? Did you put this ridiculous idea in his head?” His father accused. But you remained calm.

“No, Jeongin actually brought me here as a surprise. I didn’t realize I would be meeting the king and queen, he never even told me he was the prince until we entered the castle. I wasn’t aware of the weight of our situation. He had only been another peasant to me when I met him, and he met me at a bakery in my kingdom.” You explained as best you could, holding Jeongin’s hand comfortingly.

Jeongin leaned towards your ear, unsure of what you were saying. He whispered curiously, “Your kingdom…?”

You nodded at him, “It’s pure coincidence and luck, but unbeknownst to us, we have both been sneaking about disguised as peasants. And then we met each other and fell in love. I believe I am princess y/n who is to be considering your son’s hand in marriage. I was completely unaware Jeongin was royalty, and Jeongin was unaware that I was as well.”

The look on all of their faces was a mix of bafflement and disbelief. Jeongin especially looked at you like you were crazy.

“You know fraud and impersonation is a serious crime in this kingdom right?” His father said, staring at you intensely.

“Good thing I’m not a criminal.” You cracked a smile.

It took some time but you were finally able to convince them you were telling the truth. But it took a long time. There had to be a lot of record checking, consulting, and interrogating. But eventually, they confirmed you to be the princess. After it was all said and done the king and queen apologized for their anger towards you and you apologized for the confusion. Then they had a messenger send a letter to your kingdom to let them know that you are well and safe in their castle. It seems everyone was relieved.

The next morning you were in the royal gardens with Jeongin. You both sat in the grass taking in the sun, you were sat between his legs as he had his arms wrapped around you. He showed you a private little area where there were walls of rose bushes surrounding it so the both of you could have some space.

The two of you relaxed in silence for a while until he spoke up, “Our story sounds like a fairytale.”

“You’re right,” You mused, then began to wave them around as you did a dramatic retelling of your story, “a prince and princess from neighboring kingdoms disguise themselves as peasants. They meet each other and fall in love only to discover they’re to be married. It’s too perfect.”

He chuckled, “How did I become so lucky?”

“I ask myself the same thing Innie,” You rest your head on his chest, “By the way, why did you always sneak out?”

He shrugged and made a face, “The royal lifestyle just gets suffocating sometimes. Why did you?”

“Same here!” You sit up, “Maybe we were just made for each other.”

“That’s because we were.” He chuckles, then his eyes get a shine to them, catching the sun’s light just the right way. He shoots you a roguish smile, “How bout we sneak out to the town right now?”

You mirror his smile and nod eagerly, “That’s the best idea you’ve had all week. Let’s go.”

a/n: so this took longer than it should have tbh, it could’ve been posted last week but imma busy girl so i got an excuse

i worked hard on this and its sooo long, it was only supposed to be like 4k words but now its 9k oops

[diner-drama]

Cuddle Buddies (1/?)

"Cuddle Buddies: professional platonic cuddling therapy services for the busy modern professional" are an entirely legitimate organization serving the touch-starved. Look, it's just been a long time since Steve's been in a relationship, and a guy has needs, you know? Sometimes after a long day of being a strong, hard-nosed solicitor, weathering insults and attacks from the opposing counsel and your own coworkers, you just want to have someone stroke your hair and tell you you're good. Bucky loves his job as a professional cuddler, providing non-romantic physical touch to people that need it, and when his new client turns out to be a pint-sized spitfire with a smile to die for, that's just a bonus.

Also on ao3.

"Rumlow, if I wake up tomorrow to find out that you've thrown my client on an airplane and deported her in the middle of the night I will have your ass in front of the bar association before you can blink," barked Steve into the phone held between his ear and shoulder, trying to get his keys out of his pocket one-handed. "You really think they're going to let this slide after last time?"

He paused for a second as the person on the other end of the line made a few abortive attempts at a response, then cut him off. "I'm turning off my phone now. If you still want to talk in the morning after considering my offer you can call me then, but if you pull any of your bullshit in the meantime, I will fucking ruin you."

Steve hung up the call with a flourish and shouldered his front door open, throwing his phone into a basket on an occasional table before closing the door behind him and leaning against it, rubbing his eyes exhaustedly. Being a hard-ass human rights lawyer was all very well and good during the work day, but by the time he got home Steve was more than ready to shed his tough persona and let himself be soft.

The suit jacket was the first to go, shrugged off his slim shoulders and slipped onto a hanger. Then, his smart, shiny shoes were slipped off and replaced with warm, thick socks. He swapped his starched shirt for an old, lived-in hoodie, and his neatly pressed slacks for sweatpants. His black briefcase found a home in the spare room he used as an office, and he shut the door after it, mentally shutting away his work life. He ran his hand through his smartly-combed hair to muss it up and rolled his shoulders back, taking a few deep breaths and letting the stress of his day roll off him.

He wandered around the living room, picking up a blanket from the steamer trunk by the window, drawing the curtains, and switching on the electric fireplace which filled the space with warmth and low, flickering light. He picked up his personal phone from the coffee table and sent a quick text to Sam to let him know he made it home safely, sent a thumbs up to Darcy in response to a terrible meme she'd sent him, and briefly considered video calling Peggy before remembering that she was in a conference in Singapore.

He flopped down onto the couch and wrapped himself up tight in the blanket, enjoying its weight on his shoulders. Opening his laptop, he coughed in embarrassment when the tab that he'd opened in a fit of loneliness last night popped up. "Cuddle Buddies: professional platonic cuddling therapy services for the busy modern professional" seemed to be an entirely legitimate organization serving the touch-starved, and they had excellent reviews.

Look, it's just been a long time since Steve's been in a relationship, and a guy has needs, you know? Sometimes after a long day of being a strong, hard-nosed solicitor, weathering insults and attacks from the opposing counsel and your own coworkers, you just want to have someone stroke your hair and tell you you're good. Steve did his best to keep his work and home lives separate, but lately it was getting difficult to switch off from his worries when he was lying in bed at night, going over details from his cases while he tossed and turned on his pillows.

He scrolled through the information on the website one more time, thinking about how it might feel to invite a stranger into his home to cuddle him. Would it be uncomfortable? Would they think he was pathetic?

Putting aside the laptop for a minute, he ambled back into the kitchen to re-heat some shepherd's pie and put on the kettle for a cup of tea, climbing on a step stool to reach the mugs. His fingers and toes still a little chilly from the crisp autumn evening outside, he decided to fill up a hot water bottle, tucking it carefully into its fluffy case and holding it under his arm as he brought his dinner and drink back to the table. After a couple of bites of the pie, he pulled out a neat little wicker basket from under the table and took out his evening medications. Tapping the pills into his hand, he swallowed them with a gulp of tea and took a couple of huffs of his steroid inhaler for good measure, before getting back to his meal.

Steve may have lost the genetic lottery when it came to his height and his abysmal health, but the gods had seen fit to bless him with more than his share of sheer, bloody-minded scrappiness, which he felt more than made up for it.

Once he'd cleared the plate away and made himself a second cuppa, he opened up a book on his e-reader and held the comforting, warm weight of the hot water bottle to his chest, wondering idly, not for the first time, whether he should get a cat. He was a couple of chapters into a mediocre romance novel when he started tapping his fingers, thinking.

After a brief moment of indecision, he grabbed the laptop with renewed certainty and began to type a request into the website.

Bucky was just waving goodbye to Nat as he walked away from their session when his phone chimed, alerting him that there was a new customer inquiry that the agency wanted him to look at.

Maria: 28 yo man in Red Hook interested in trying cuddle therapy to help with work stress. Would prefer male therapist. Due to asthma, no cologne or scented products, and non-smokers only.

He smiled, and shot off a quick affirmative response. Maria often sent him their new clients - there was something about him that reassured people if they felt a little unsure about the services. Bucky was perfectly happy with his chosen profession - non-romantic physical touch was, in his opinion, essential for a happy life, and he got to provide it to people that needed it. Bucky liked to observe people and through his job he'd met a wide array of curious characters, so the work was never boring.

Also, the pay was amazing and Alpine would only eat the expensive cat food, so there was that.

He continued on his journey, enjoying the changing leaves on the trees around him and the chill in the air. Just as he was about to step onto the subway, his phone buzzed again, and after he found a seat he saw that Maria had sent him the phone number for his new client. He sent off his standard greeting straight away, eager to get his schedule firmed up.

Bucky: Hi Steve, this is Bucky from the Cuddle Buddies agency. When works for you for our first meeting? Looking forward to working with you!

Steve: Thanks for getting back to me. Saturday evening would be best for my schedule. Can I pay the $80 fee via bank transfer? -Steven Grant Rogers, Shield Solicitors

The response came immediately, and was far more businesslike than his usual interactions with clients. Still, Bucky could be businesslike. He even owned a tie.

Bucky: You sure can - the agency should send you out a contract tonight with the bank details. I can do Saturday at 7 if that suits.

Steve: Saturday at 7 sounds fine. What are the terms of the contract?

Of course, Mr. Lawyer Man wanted to know about the contract.

Bucky: It lays out what to expect in our interactions - we provide purely non-sexual services - as well as how to deal with cancellations, how we protect your privacy, and the billing structure.

Steve: Thank you. I look forward to meeting you on Saturday.

Bucky shook his head, wondering how this stuffy, formal guy was going to act during their cuddle session.

Steve didn't have the opportunity to start feeling anxious about his cuddle appointment because the negotiations with the lawyers at the ICE detention center took up every moment of his time. He was wrapping up his conversation with a client via email in his home office when his alarm chimed to let him know that he had half an hour until Bucky arrived.

After stretching his arms over his head, wincing at the tightness of his shoulders after slouching all day, he stripped out of the pajamas he was still wearing and indulged in a long, hot shower, scrubbing away his stress and emerging pink-cheeked and fluffy-haired. In his bedroom, he changed into a soft blue flannel shirt and a pair of pants that looked like slacks but felt like sweatpants, and another pair of his warm, fuzzy socks.

Pacing around his living room, his nerves ramping up, he selected a different blanket to leave ready on the couch and checked twice on his selection of teas. He had just put the kettle on to boil when the buzzer sounded.

On opening the door, he was immediately reassured to see that Bucky had a friendly, engaging grin, and was wearing a soft, knitted sweater. He held out a hand to shake and then immediately felt like an idiot, but Bucky just grasped Steve's cold hand with his warm one and squeezed it.

"Hi, you must be Steve," said Bucky with a pleasant Brooklyn drawl. Without being asked, he pulled a Cuddle Buddies ID card out of his pocket and handed it over to Steve, who checked the details on it and handed it back.

"Nice to meet you," said Steve stiffly. "Please, come on in. I'm just making a cup of mint tea, do you want one?"

"That'd be perfect, Steve. Mind if I take my shoes off?"

"Go ahead," replied Steve with a thin smile, attending to the whistling kettle.

"Thanks," said Bucky when he accepted his cup of tea. Steve couldn't help but notice that Bucky was wearing mis-matched but co-ordinating socks, one with red stars on a white background, and the other with white stars on a red background. He ushered Bucky to take a seat on the couch and sat in the armchair opposite. Bucky's posture was loose and open, but Steve was sitting bolt upright and jiggling his leg nervously. Fortunately, Bucky chose to take the lead in the conversation.

"So, I usually start first sessions with clients by talking about what your goals are for therapy," he began with a reassuring smile. "For example, some clients are looking to feel more comfortable with physical touch, some want to get over a breakup, or reduce stress, and some are just looking for companionship."

"I guess the companionship and stress things," said Steve after thinking for a moment. "My job takes a lot out of me, so I don't really have the time to pursue a relationship, but I do miss that human touch."

Bucky smiled gently, as though what Steve had said wasn't anything out of the ordinary. "What do you do?"

"I'm a lawyer, I mostly represent people who are in danger of deportation," said Steve automatically.

"That sounds rewarding," replied Bucky encouragingly.

"It is," agreed Steve, "but it's incredibly draining. I have to be so hard and tough all the time. Sometimes I think it would be nice to just be..." He tailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence.

"Soft?" supplied Bucky.

Steve smiled, feeling more comfortable despite his misgivings. "Yeah."

"Thank you for being so open with me, Steve," said Bucky, reaching over to squeeze Steve's knee. "If you don't have a particular preference for how we start, how about you join me on the couch and I put my arms around you. Does that sound good?"

Suddenly shy, Steve nodded and moved to sit next to Bucky, who immediately wrapped his big arms around Steve's shoulders and pulled Steve into his broad chest. As requested, Bucky wasn't wearing any fragrance, but he still smelled good, like fresh laundry and crisp autumn air, with an undercurrent of clean skin.

As he relaxed into Bucky's embrace, Steve tried to remember the last time he'd been held so gently. He was a regular recipient of Sam's big bear hugs and Darcy's chest-crushing squeezes, but he hadn't had a long-term romantic partner since law school, and his career didn't leave him a lot of free time to look for one.

"How does that feel?" asked Bucky in a low, soothing voice, gently rubbing at Steve's shoulder.

"Really good," breathed Steve.

"I'm glad," said Bucky gently. "How about I lie down on my back here and you snuggle up to my chest?"

Steve nodded his assent and Bucky released him slowly, and then rolled over to lie along the couch, opening up his arms so that Steve could slot himself in to rest his head on Bucky's warm chest. The knit of his sweater was soft against Steve's face, and one of Bucky's big hands came up to cup the back of Steve's head, rubbing small circles at the base of his skull with his fingertips.

"Thanks for not wearing cologne," said Steve, sounding muffled.

"Pal, I think you sneezing in my face would be worse for me than for you," laughed Bucky, the sound rumbling through his chest.

"It's not my sexiest move," agreed Steve, burrowing deeper into the soft warmth of Bucky's body.

Steve hadn't expected that conversation would carry on easily while they were cuddling - he predicted awkward silences and a feeling of general embarrassment - but they continued chatting while Bucky carded his fingers through Steve's hair, and he felt himself dropping deeper and deeper into a calm state of relaxation.

"So why'd you become a lawyer?" asked Bucky in a low voice, barely breaking into the spell he was casting over Steve.

"Ma came over here from Ireland to work as a nurse," replied Steve drowsily, "and when my pa died, she ran into some trouble with some of her immigration paperwork. There was a lawyer who worked pro bono to stop her from getting deported... the guy really changed our lives."

"So now you help other people the same way."

"I try to. How'd you get into professional cuddling?"

"After I got out of the army, I used to go for counseling sessions at the VA. Took a couple of years, but eventually I started on a course to be a counselor myself. A lot of those guys are so touch-starved, you know? My friend got the idea to start up a cuddling service and I jumped at the chance. It's been my full-time job for three years now."

Digesting this information, Steve was silent for a moment. He wouldn't have pegged Bucky as a soldier given how open and relaxed he was, but Sam didn't seem like an air force pilot, so you never knew. He cast around for a follow-up question. "Are there a lot of cuddling agencies in the world?" he settled on eventually.

"Oh yeah, it's a real growth industry. There's even a book called the Cuddle Sutra."

Steve scoffed. "You're kidding me, people write books about this stuff?"

Bucky cuffed him gently on the back of the head. "Shut up, punk. That's my profession you're besmirching."

"Are you allowed to tell your clients to shut up?" smirked Steve, never happier than when he was being a little shit.

"Only if they're being a punk," grumbled Bucky, wrapping an arm around the back of Steve's shoulders to pull him closer.

Over the course of the next forty five minutes, Steve learned more about Bucky's family, his asshole cat, his collection of semi-dead succulent plants, and his opinions on the present administration of the country. Bucky managed to wheedle Steve into talking about the bullying he faced at work, the stress of not having as many resources as he needed to help everyone he worked with - and he very nearly managed to get him to disclose his mother's recipe for shepherd's pie, and was only stopped by the threat that the ghost of Sarah Rogers would haunt him until he died.

Between the cozy warmth of Bucky's body, the soothing cadence of his voice, and the way his minty breath ghosted over Steve's forehead when he chuckled, Steve was pretty much in heaven, wrapped up in comfort. When Bucky's phone started to vibrate in his pocket, they both let out a little noise of annoyance.

"'Fraid that's my alarm. How'd you enjoy your first session?" asked Bucky, still stroking lines down Steve's back.

Steve hummed contentedly. "Worth every penny," he replied, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head.

"I'm really glad," said Bucky sincerely, squeezing his shoulder before standing up and heading towards his shoes. "Same time next week?"

"That'd be perfect. Thanks, Bucky. For everything."

"No problem," he replied with a genuine grin, fishing his phone out of his pocket. "Now I'd better call Maria before she gets the cops after me to make sure I haven't been murdered in a back alley somewhere."

"I'm glad they care so much about your safety."

"I love my job," laughed Bucky as he let himself out the front door, waving goodbye to Steve as he put the phone to his ear.

Steve spent some time smiling and waving like a goof until Bucky rounded the corner, at which point he finally shook himself awake and shut and locked his door. It was only eight PM but after a few nights of fractured sleep he was ready to follow his relaxed, sleepy feeling straight to bed.

After he pottered around the room, straightening up and putting things away, he brushed his teeth and jumped onto his big, comfortable bed, where he rolled himself up in his comforter like a burrito. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

[cilliansaccent]

Class of Temptation - CHAPTER TWO

Leave a like, reblog or comment below to show your support and love! Enjoy…

PLEASE READ:

No mention of Cillian’s true family or relatives. All names are made up.

This is a TEACHER x STUDENT fanfiction, it’s going to be kinky and very taboo!

I will write whenever the mood grabs me, so I apologise if there are long breaks between chapters :)

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Background: Tessa is a twenty-three-year-old model from a broken-up family, living in London with her best friend and starting a course on Drama and Theatre. Though, when she gets closer to the super hot Mr Murphy who is her much older teacher, there is a battle of lust and love between them. They’ll have to figure out what to do with their tight relationship as other issues begin to rise and nip at their heels…

Word Count: 2,196

!!Warnings!!: None.

Chapter Name: Mr Murphy

Brief Chapter Outline: Tessa attends Orientation week at her selected University and explores the campus and the courses and clubs it offers. She then goes to her info session for her Drama course and finds herself meeting a very handsome man... 

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A few days had passed since her birthday and today was Orientation week at the selected Uni Tessa had picked. She had picked out a casual outfit, black shorts and a champagne silk blouse with flared short sleeves. She added low cut converse shoes and pulled her hair up in a high pony-tail. 

She threw on her small backpack that had her keys, wallet, phone and a notepad in case she needed to take some notes down. Esther would meet with her by the afternoon at the uni. 

Tessa headed off, she had already posted a pic of herself on Instagram and smiled at the comments. She occasionally got some hate but she just ignored them. 

As she sat on the train, she began to contemplate. Her thoughts wandered to the card she received from her father and the conversation she had with Mila about it. Her father had been right, Mila and he had been in contact for almost three years now and seemed to be on good terms. 

Aria, on the other hand, had not taken the news so well when Mila had told her a few months back. Yet, Tess did not really care. The only thing she didn't like was that Mila gave their shit father her address to her apartment. 

Tessa had vowed that day she left she would not ever keep in contact with him or let him know her whereabouts. But so much for that. She hoped she would not see another letter again if she did she would be thoroughly mad. 

She made sure she told Mila to never give anything to their father which resulted in a heated argument and Mila hung up on her. 

Tessa sighed as she got off the train and headed up to the street above. She gave herself a moment and admired the bustling crowd of tourists and workers. Many would say London was too hectic and crazy but Tessa loved the fast-paced atmosphere of it. And the photos always looked so good when she took them. 

Sydney had been where she was birthed. She only remembered a bit of it, living along a coastline in a pretty small home. But the rest it was a blur of screaming and yelling when it came to her father and her birth mother. 

The university came into view and she headed inside as she was handed pamphlets and a bag. There was a tour guide but she wanted to do this on her own, find her own way around. There was a lot of people, many younger girls and boys with their families. It made her sad that she had to do this without some parent beside her, no smiling father or a proud mother. 

Tessa trudged on, checking out the many other courses the uni offered and talked to the people. More hand-outs she took before she found where she could check out the clubs they offered. She made sure to sign up for the art club, a chilled afternoon once a week where a group gathered and just drew and talked. 

She then went to the orchestra club and introduced herself to the large group. They seemed super keen that she would be joining them and managed to get their social handles. She laughed when they were shocked to see she was an elite model and they were gushing, especially the girls. 

After that, Tessa went to listen in on some other courses that spiked her interest and took notes down. Then off she went to her drama talk. 

People were walking out of the lecture room as she came in, it seemed to be finished. 

"Oh, did I miss it?" She frowned as she spotted a man bent down and retrieving something from his bag. 

The man turned as he straightened himself. He was dressed in skinny black jeans, a green shirt with a low cut V neck and a casual suit jacket in which he was just taking off. 

"You did. But no worries, there will be another in fifteen minutes. Care to hang around." He said in his Irish accent, a sweet smile graced that sharp cut face. 

Tessa was mesmerised by how clear his blue eyes were, "Oh, uh, okay. Sorry." She laughed nervously as she awkwardly sat down. 

"You don't need to sit that far, come on. Come upfront." He waved her over, taking a sip of his water bottle. 

Tessa hesitated but got up as she made her way over to the front. 

"I'm Cillian Murphy," He said, holding his hand out to her. 

"U-Uh... I'm Tessa." She took his hand. It was strong and firm once she sat down, his flashy watch curled around a veined wrist.  

"Nice to meet you, Tessa. So you've picked Drama and Theatre, hm?" He took a seat in front of her. He had a thick head of hair which was parted at the side and seemed to curl over his forehead. She also noticed the freckles that dusted his buttoned nose and pale cheeks. 

But most importantly she was shocked to actually meet the famous man, "Yeah. I have. I want to go, um, into a different pathway." She nodded. 

"Oh? Have you studied before?" He sat back, arms loosely folded over his chest. His gentle smile never fading. 

"No. Never." She shook her head. 

"You work then? You seem very well dressed." He mused. 

"I'm a model. I work for various fashion brands." She felt her nerves kick in, she wasn't the type to just accept compliments from people she didn't know. It made her feel weird. 

Cillian seemed to see the discomfort in her and sighed, "Sorry. I don't mean to come across as overbearing or too straightforward. But a model, hey? That's alright." He said in a more gentler tone. 

"Mhm. I love it, it's fun. But I want more so drama has been something I've always wanted to do. So I finally took that chance." Tessa replied not really meeting his gaze. 

"Good, good. Well, I'll be teaching the class, I got good experience so you'll be learning from the best." He winked at her as he stood, "I gotta go freshen myself up. Rest here and we'll get the info session started soon." He said before he left her alone in the room. 

Tessa eased back in the chair as her shoulders finally relaxed. That was super intense but it might just be her racing nerves. It was busy today and a lot going on. 

Especially with a man, she would not ever dream of meeting. She had seen him in a couple of films and he was exceptionally great. She would hope to be just as good as he but first thing first was that she had to overcome her fear of... well, acting in front of people. 

Modelling was kind of different. All she had to do was strut down the catwalk in her outfit, pose and walk off. She wasn't in the spotlight for a long time, only briefly for photos. Or when it came to photoshoots she was surrounded by people she knew and wasn't afraid of showing her body off or being up against a man or a woman. 

Tessa would not let her fear of strangers overwhelm her. She had to deal with this before, a little more different but she would do this. She had to. The only way to make a better life for herself. 

People began to filter in and it was soon pretty full. Cillian had returned and clapped his hands together, "Well, it looks like a full house so I can start." He said and got right into it. 

He took them through the structure of the course, what to expect, what materials were needed. There was a project to be done by the end of the first year, to work as a whole class and create a play and perform it. 

This would be interesting, she thought, writing down her notes. Three years worth. It was very daunting. 

Though she really enjoyed Cillian's passion, he spoke from the heart and seemed like a really cool man. She looked forward to the class if he was going to be like this. 

"I do hope to see some you guys in class, thank you for coming. Catch ya later." He smiled and people stood up and filed out. 

"So you thinking of enrolling?" Cillian brought his attention back to Tessa who had a page full of notes. 

"I already am. Just wanted to come in and listen to make sure I picked the course I want to do." She looked up and met those gorgeous eyes. He had put on his brown and black spotted glasses. He really did look like the drama type of teacher. 

"Oh yeah? You don't got any questions?" He asked. 

"Uhm... You mentioned a big project to be done by the end of the first year. What is that like?" She asked it was the only thing that worried her. 

"Well, it's a task the board have made to bring out teamwork in a group. Usually, when you are working on a piece, you are working with many other people. So we want to see how well you interact with others off stage and on stage as well." He explained. 

"Oh, okay. I see. And I'm guessing we will get notified of the exam as well?" She asked. 

"Yeah. Of course," He nodded, "Closer to the end of each term you will be notified." 

"Sorry for the silly questions. I-I just want to know." She said, holding her back close as if it may protect her. 

"No question is silly. Ask as many as you want." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Any more?" 

"None, thank you." She let out a soft sigh. 

"Alright. Well, I'll see you when the semester starts. Nice meeting you, Miss Tessa." He held out his hand and she took it and shook. 

"Nice meeting you too, Mr Murphy." She blushed a little. 

"Just Cillian, please." He said with a soft laugh. 

"Okay, Cillian. See you now." She said and turned to head out of the room. 

She spent the rest of her morning attending other information sessions of other classes and took a small tour with a group around campus. 

Esther called her up to tell Tessa she was here so on she went to the main gates to find her best friend all dolled up. 

"Hey!" Esther smiled and they embraced. 

"Hi, how was the shoot?" Tessa asked her. 

"Really good. I got to keep some of the lingerie that was used." She giggled. "Wearing it right now." She wiggled her eyebrows at her. 

"Oh," Tessa gave her a hip bump, "Lucky you." 

"Let's go eat! You gotta talk to me about today." Esther said as they headed to a Thai restaurant. 

Once they sat, checked the menu and ordered, Esther had her full attention on Tessa. "So, how was it?" 

"It was good. The campus is so nice! So green, there's like a giant park next to it. I went to some info sessions on other classes to see what they were like. But, oh my god." Tessa said in an excited tone, "You would not believe who is my drama teacher." 

Esther raised her brow, "Who?" She was confused. 

"You know that hot actor, that one played in Batman as the evil guy scarecrow? Inception? And that new movie, Anna?" Tessa said. 

Esther's eyes widened, "No fucking way." She said. 

"Yes fucking way! It's him, Cillian Murphy." Tessa said with equal excitement. 

"Holy fuck! Oh my god. Oh. My. God." Esther was shaking with such enthusiasm. "That is gonna be so awesome. Does he look like how he looks in the movie?" Esther leaned forward. 

"Oh fuck he does. He wears glasses too. Unbelievable. At first, I didn't really like, put it together but when he spoke I knew instantly who he was. He was so kind to, but I was still so nervous." Tessa smiled a little. 

"So he'll be teaching the class. What's the class like?" Esther continued. 

"Three years and at the end of the first year we gotta have a play ready to showcase." Tessa shuddered. "That's really intense." 

"Oh, it sounds like it. But you're gonna ace it! I know you will." Esther reached over and took her hands. 

"Yeah?" Tessa looked up and met her pretty eyes. 

"Yeah. I believe in you." Esther kissed her hands and pulled back as their food came. "I've always believed in you from the moment we met. I know you can do this." 

Tessa blushed, "Thank you, Esther. Means a lot." She said before they ate and chatted about Esther's shoot. After they ate they headed back to central London where the agency was and continued on with some other shoots they had to do for the rest of the afternoon that went well into the evening. 

Tessa was glad to be back home and spend the night cuddled up with Esther watching a TV Show. The two girls fell asleep like that wrapped in a light blanket. 

[sophrosinn]

the (un)lucky ones

story description:

“the story’s great, but I think it would be better if the story ended like this”

Affronted at the audacity of the comment, she furiously replies, “then write your own story, asshole!”

word count: 2,048

a/n: happiest solar anniversary to one of my best girls @vanaera! thank you for being the bestest friend a girl could ever ask for. this short story, which is loosely based irl, serves as my gift to you. i hope you’ll like it! 

shout-out to @senfleurs for being the best gal and helping me out with this. she even stepped up and edited this omg, and i cannot stress how much I’m thankful, lol especially she made sure that I get to finish this on time

—

3.

In retrospect, she knows better than to let some dumb comment, especially from someone on the Internet, rile her up this much. Even her followers tell her as much: it’s unwarranted, insensitive even. One of her followers, hippopopo tries to take it a step further, justifying by saying, verbatim: It’s her story anyway!!! So only she knows how the story should end best, okay! 😤😠💢

(in actuality, she has qualms about that, mostly because she had read some books which she thought didn’t end well. but that would take time to unpack and this story isn’t about that, no. she’s flattered at the support, nonetheless.)

And yet, there she is at 8 in the morning, her fingers furiously gliding across her keyboard as she writes a spite-filled story in response. Oftentimes, her muse for writing comes from movies she watched with her family, or from songs she heard on Korean dramas, or those meet-cute scenarios she gushed about with her best friends. This time, however, spite’s her main gal.

She finishes at 10. Later at 4 in the afternoon, she posts it. About an hour later, she doesn’t even try to contain the smirk lighting up her face when a familiar notification pops up.

—

1.

The story starts with an inconspicuous like from a user named agust-d five months ago. Back then, she thought nothing of it. A day later, agust-d comments on a story from her drabble series. Since then, every day without fail, agust-d leaves a small token of their appreciation for her works; brief, concise comments such as, “nice job on the flower descriptions,” or “i liked it.” 

Belatedly, she wonders if agust-d is a person of few words, because why else would they leave comments with only six words or less, even on her works with over 30k words? Don’t get her wrong, of course she’s eternally grateful for all the support she receives from her affectionate dears. But sometimes, especially on days her self-confidence plummets and she’s in need of reassurance, she ponders if all her efforts are for naught. (of course not, never, she gently reminds herself.)

And each day, she resists the growing urge to reply: don’t you have anything more to say!!! (but alas, she isn’t a rude person—unless provoked—she can’t so she settles with letting her mind wander.)

Three months of this and she finally caves in. With her interest piqued, she browses through agust-d’s posts. After two hours, she learns that agust-d goes by suga online. Coincidentally, Suga is a male student at the same university she’s currently attending. For a moment, she briefly considers a possibility—what are the chances that they’ve met, have fallen into step alongside each other, have passed by him in the large hallways, or have shared her table with him at the library during exam season? The possibility of knowing someone without actually knowing them? 

(that’s the funny thing about the online world, she supposes. you may know all that matters about someone: their likes, dislikes, kinks, fears, and horrid taste in music, absolutely everything except that one thing that matters the most: their names.)

Suga, she eventually learns, is not a man of few words. In truth, he’s got a few words too many to say about a diverse range of controversial topics. In his words, his passion burns bright and clear, but for her, he doesn’t shine any brighter than when he talks about music. It shows in his blog, which consists of a myriad of album reviews across different genres (fascinating, she notes, their music interests align as well).

Occasionally, he posts his renditions of some popular rap music, and as sporadic as this happens, she admits that his covers are her favorite part of his blog. And naturally, she refuses to acknowledge that it has everything to do with her fascination with deep, raspy voices, which, (un)fortunately for her, Suga undoubtedly has.

After some serious debating with herself, she decides to not follow him back. But she makes sure to check his profile every other day for no real reason, really, her soul wallowing in denial. In her defense, when did anyone need a reason to stalk someone?

And so, it begins, her fascination with this stranger on the other side of the screen. Never in her whole life did she imagine herself harboring a (teeny-tiny, infinitesimal) crush towards someone on the Internet. Certainly, she knows there’s always a one-in-a-thousand chance that it happens in real life, it’s just that out of all the 7 billion people in the world, she wasn’t expecting herself to be the (un)lucky one.

—

2.

The fateful day begins like any other. She wakes up to a brand new day, at 7 am, and like clockwork, she begins to stretch atop her pink yoga mat. Halfway through her workout, her phone pings with a new notification. Immediately, her phone screen lights up: agust-d has left a comment on your work!

Her traitorous heart skips a beat in the utmost display of betrayal. It’s Suga!

Ever since she scrolled through his blog two months ago, she has been exchanging messages with Suga. Her covert mission to surreptitiously listen to his song covers ends miserably when she accidentally double-clicks on a post he made two years ago. A string of expletives followed as she stared agonizingly at the post. She attempts to remove her blunder, but soon accepts defeat as it doesn’t even take a full minute until she receives a message notification from Suga. The internal debate resumes as her finger clumsily hovers on the computer mouse and she hesitantly clicks. From thereon, the rest, as they say, is history.

She ends up following his account the day after.

Although, if she were being truthful, all they’ve been sending back and forth are pleasantries. Suga seems hellbent on keeping the conversations polite and distant. She doesn’t understand, it’s not like she’s flirting with him! All she just wants is a compelling conversation with someone (because the Lord knows how much she needs an intellectual to talk to; and suga seems like an intellectual, if his posts are anything to go by).

She unlocks her phone and throws herself onto her bed. Normally, her lips quirk up automatically in response to seeing his name pop on her notifications, but it is not the case for this time. Instead, a frown mars her forehead as she reads his comment.

agust-d: the story’s great, but I think it would be better if the story ended like this

For a moment, she can’t believe her eyes. She blinks a few more times in the hope that her eyes were just playing tricks on her. Nada, it remains the same. 

If there’s one thing to know about her, it’s that she meticulously plans out every detail in her stories. She even spends weeks to outline a draft, and even then, it must be decent enough before she puts it in writing. Publishing her works online, for all the world to see, still intimidates her even after all this time. Not knowing how people will respond to her works frightens her, but what is life without a little fear?

In addition, she’s receptive to constructive criticisms, but criticisms that come from those she looks up to? It’s a bitter pill to swallow sometimes. Suga—he’s become one of those people, and seeing his comment really hurt. She turns her phone off and does her chores for the time being. The moment she logs back in, she is taken aback by the multitude of comments expressing the same sentiment. 

bubbleboy: “Yeah, I agree, I think it would be best if the story ended in this manner.” 

She can’t help but feel the bubble of anger gradually rising. Another even started with, 

orange-gloss: “No offense, but the ending being suggested by others is kinda good.” 

The audacity and the entitlement in this comment! Asking her to not be offended when it is within her right to take offense is absolutely laughable. Furthermore, who are you to even tell me how I should react? 

When she reaches the 20th comment, she explodes. The next two hours find her furiously typing out a decent response disguised as a story, albeit with passive-aggressiveness, addressed to all of the comments, but primarily to the one left by Suga. She talks to the rude commenters with the sweet addition of a phrasing 101 lesson. In her contained rage, she ends with the note: remember, it doesn’t hurt to be nice, and if you have qualms about how I ended my own story, do me and yourself a favor and write your own story!

She makes up her mind to take some time off her blog for a while. But after a familiar notification pops up at 5 PM, she resists the urge to run away and instead, opts to open the messages he sent.

agust-d: i’ll admit, the way I said it was rude

agust-d: but I stand with what I said

agust-d: you should consider the possibility as well

seen

(In hindsight, she realizes that, for once, Suga’s comment surpasses 25 words.)

—

4. 

After the whole debacle with the barrage of rude comments and her consequent outburst, everything has never been the same. Understandably, some of her fans have left since then, but the majority stayed with her and for that, she’s eternally grateful. Although she still publishes her stories and interacts with her followers, a certain emptiness fills her at times. 

A part of her thinks it has a lot to do with Suga, who she doesn’t talk to anymore. She… doesn’t know how to respond to him after her outburst. In a span of a moment, she manages to both defend her honor and drag agust-d through the mud, which was never her intention to begin with. Okay, well, maybe just a little bit. But she’s hurt, so it only makes sense to retaliate.

If only she could easily strike back in her current situation. 

Unbeknownst to her, someone with the handle void-mayo tags her on a malicious post the night before, calling her out for being fake. Apparently, she’s a ‘copycat writer wanna-be with no real ideas of her own.’

She only discovers it when her followers start sending her messages of reassurance and appreciation. Of course, she checks the post at once, reading carefully and taking in everything that was written. (Shit, at least I have a better username, she muses). And not for the first time, she feels hurt, uneasy, and anxious at the same time. Void-mayo is already an established writer, with years of exposure under her belt and a large army of rabid fans at her disposal. Meanwhile, she’s just started her writing blog. And although she’s diligent, thorough, and ensures that each of her stories has its own personality and flavor, most of void-mayo’s fans wouldn’t care. She can’t risk losing her credibility over a baseless accusation such as this! 

And with that, she feels anger bubbling from the pit of her stomach. She doesn’t get the purpose behind the destructive post. She gets humiliated, her reputation tarnished, and worse just because she had written a similar scene with an ice cream . It certainly doesn’t help that others are quick to join in calling her names and ‘cancelling her’ without even bothering to check the facts. 

And as she contemplates on how to proceed with such a delicate situation, her dashboard refreshes. At the top, she notices that agust-d reblogs void-mayo’s post with the addition of his response and for once, the word count exceeds 100.

—

5. 

In a roundabout way of saying sorry and expressing her gratitude, she proceeds to write the ending Suga requested. And illuminated by the dim light of her laptop screen, she can begrudgingly admit that he does have a point; his version of the ending does make sense.

—

fin.

—

omake

agust-d: so am i forgiven yet?

you: i don’t know

you: maybe you’ll have to make it up to me

you: and get me some coffee first?

you: 😉

—

a/n pt. 2: happiest birthday to you again! i’m so grateful to have met you in this lifetime. truly, like you’re the best. even if your internet connection’s always shitty, you always find ways to join our chats and discord parties. just thank you, for all the countless laughs that i’ve had with (and because of) you, for the counsel with my writing, and for the stories and advice you’ve willingly shared with us. here’s to our three years of friendship and counting! i love you so much! enjoy this day and stay safe! 

p.s. keep rocking and keep writing! we’ll always be here with you! muah! ❤️❤️❤️

p.p.s. hihi 🦆🍄

[pervasivescariness]

[ Catching Up ]

[ This is a small scene @ivaan-ffxiv and I did a bit ago that I wanted to share because it is super cute. ;w; It’s a bit longer than what I usually post, so I put it under a cut~ Thank you for reading <3 ]

"He really has taken a liking to you, you know. That is a pretty special thing.”

The late afternoon sun glittered off the rolling waves as Ivaan's voice pulled Bee's attention from the distant shore below. She looked over her shoulder as he and Mossfoot crested the hill, first to Mossfoot, then to Ivaan with a smile.

“I’m just happy that he’s at least stopped trying to preen me all the time.” she laughed, turning back to face her companion, crossing her arms as the two joined her upon the hill.

“He might have consigned your curls to being a lost cause.” The gentle breeze picked up to rustle the long blades of grass which surrounded them as Ivaan lead the chocobo over to where Bee stood.

“How terribly rude. What does a bird know of fashion?" she tossed her head indignantly in response, curls tumbling over her shoulder and across her back, "No matter, as long as it is enough to keep his beak out of my hair…”

Bee watched as the chocobo in question ignored her, choosing instead to find a comfortable place among the greenery to rest. Following suit, Bee settled in herself, curling among the swaying grass and flowers which carpeted the cliffside. Ivaan soon followed suit, taking up a place adjacent to the miqo'te, eyes still on Mossfoot.

"I think he does have his moments of vanity. I have caught him picking up feathers he has dropped, and tucking them back into his tail.”

“Does he now?” Bee eyed the bird with a smirk, “So then perhaps he does understand, but his opinions are just wrong.”

“You do know that you are trying to insult a chocobo, yes?”

“Yes, and?”

“And that he cannot understand you? Because he is a chocobo?”

“And just how do you know he can’t understand me exactly?" Bee turned her attention back to the bird, eyeing him suspiciously, "I have a sneaking suspicion that he understands perfectly well. ”

“Are you suggesting chocobo understand common, but choose not to resp-” Bee's enthusiastic and eager nods were enough to halt Ivaan mid-sentence. Easing back with a smile, he sighed, " You really haven’t changed, have you…”

“Have you any proof to the contrary?” Bee challenged with the rise of an eyebrow and a lash of her tail.

“Well, he has never spoken to me…”

“Perhaps he has and you merely weren’t paying attention?”

“How about it?” Ivaan looked up at the courser, who merely looked back at him with a cheerful whistle.

“Perhaps he simply doesn’t feel he needs to speak?” Bee gave the bird a thoughtful look and a slow flick of her tail.

“Mmm...we have a good enough rapport that I usually do not need to even give a verbal command. I do not even wear spurs.”

“Then what need of a common tongue does he have?”

“None then, I suppose…”

“And in a way, it proves he does understand...you at least.” Bee beamed at Ivaan, sitting up straight and giving him a victorious wiggle of her ear. “Which means I am correct.” Her focus snapped to the red-plumed chocobo resting across from them as she pointed dramatically at him, crying out, “And he knows what he is doing!”

“Then perhaps you should be nicer to him. He does have a short temper.” Ivaan retorted.

Shock crossed her face as she whipped her head back to Ivaan, a picture of innocence, “What do you mean? I am perfectly nice to him!”

“You were just saying he had no fashion sense not a minute ago.”

“That’s not being mean, that’s merely stating facts.” Bee crossed her arms once more, nodding once for emphasis.

“Would you not be offended, were I to tell you the same?”

“That’s wholly different!” she protested, “You’ve no reason to tell me that, as it simply isn’t true.”

“Say you met somebody on a bad laundry day, where you had to make do with a less than stellar ensemble, and somebody said something questioning your taste. You would be offended.”

She scoffed, “Ivaan, I have never had a bad laundry day. I can make any outfit stellar. It simply wouldn’t happen!”

“That is the trouble right there! You need to prepare mentally for any scenario, no matter how unlikely.”

At this, Bee broke into laughter, “There you go again! Always so serious!”

“It has kept me alive.” He shrugged, matter of fact.

“Is that what you do when you get all quiet and thoughtful then? Sit there and prepare for any and all scenarios?” Bee teased him with a playful grin.

He nodded, the teasing going right over his head. “It is always safe to assume that I have already formulated a plan to kill everyone in the room, as well as plotted every means of egress.” The miqo'te stared at him flatly as he added, “Be polite. Be efficient. Have a plan to kill everyone you meet.”

“How dreadful! You’re not very fun at parties, are you?”

“I do not find myself attending them often. Besides, they make for a good place to stage an ambush.”

Again, another laugh from the woman as she shook her head, "Can one even truly prepare themselves for any scenario?”

Ivaan paused to think her question over, “I suppose not...but the more you can prepare for, the harder you are to take by surprise.” Leaning forward, Ivaan rest his forearms on his knees, "For example, during my time clearing the Crystal Tower, we had a researcher with us who specialized in voidsent. So adamant they were that they knew everything there was to know about imps, succubi, demons and the like, that when one of them reacted in a way that he did not anticipate...Well, he was dead before we could intervene.”

“I feel that is perhaps different, Ivaan. You speak of battle! It is always wise to consider every scenario going into dangerous situations, I will agree with you there. However! Not everything is a danger! There is a vast difference between not being prepared to handle a rude stranger and tangling with a bunch of voidsent.” She looked upon the hyur with an exasperated look.

"A rude stranger may have a knife behind their back, or friends waiting nearby. I have learned countless times the value of being ready for anything."

"So you go into every interaction expecting a knife? Where does that leave you exactly? How would you ever enjoy anything if you are always preparing for the worst of it?"

"Yes. And I am alive, to continue my work. That is all that matters."

Bee stared at him in disappointment, the only sound between them the crash of distant waves upon the shore and the quiet rustle of grass which surrounded them. Then, very quietly she asked, "Are you even enjoying yourself now?"

There was a pause. Ivaan regarded her with a concerned look, taking on a slightly softer, conciliatory tone when he spoke again. "...I am. Granted, I am keeping my eyes and ears peeled for anything approaching, but yes. I am genuinely enjoying this time with you."

Bee shook her head in defeat, “You really ought to learn to relax, Ivaan. You'd enjoy yourself more if you weren't so wound up over what could happen." She offered him a reassuring smile, "Besides, not much ever happens here, so there's really nothing to worry about. You can afford to relax, just for a little bit."

"...Not much used to happen in the Twelveswood, remember?" Ivaan sighed, looking out over the darkening horizon for a time. "...What did you have in mind?"

Bee motioned toward him and sighed to Mossfoot, with that same exasperated tone, "And again!" The chocobo tilted his head at Bee with a questioning whistle. Knowing that she'd get no further in her argument, she turned her attention back to the surrounding meadows. "I thought it might just be nice to take some time among the flowers, is all. Like we used to."

"Like we used to, huh..." Ivaan looked about at the various wildflowers carpeting the meadow. He leaned forward, regarding one carefully before reaching out and plucking it from the earth. And another... and another... The stem of each was carefully twisted into that of the one picked before it. A look of concentration fell over Ivaan's features, a distant memory fluttering through his thoughts.

Bee watched him pluck the nearby flowers from the soil, a small smile forcing the serious slant of her lips to leave once more. "I was always fond of those trips out to the meadow." Her focus fell from his thoughtful face to his hands as he twist the stems together. "The grass was always so much more lush and vibrant than here. And there were so many types of flowers!" Before long, Bee was beginning to pluck her own handfuls of flowers, mimicking Ivaan's movements.

"I remember telling you all about the different ones... Their names, little tricks you could do with them, like holding a buttercup under your chin." The smallest of smiles began to tug at Ivaan's lips, delicately weaving the thin stems of green together. Occasionally he would look at her out of the corner of his eye, roughly judging the size of the crown against her head.

"You remember, I would mix the names up sometimes...call one by the other..." Bee glanced up, taking note of the slightest of smiles forming on his face, which only broadened her own. "I didn't know so many different flowers even existed until that summer, you know." She dropped her eyes back to the small pile of flowers in her own lap as she saw his gaze shift towards her, busying herself with lining them upon her lap by size.

"You would tell me that I would probably get the names of all the fish your dad would catch mixed up too, when I teased you about it. I was always so excited for the summer to come... I would count the days. It was the highlight of the year, even more so than All Saint's, or Starlight..." He paused, looking up at her from his work. "I am sorry... That I never came looking for you, after... After everything happened. I was convinced I was going to hear of your deaths. I could not take that..."

Bee's movements stopped, the stem of a flower pinched delicately between her fingers, his words stealing the growing smile from her face. There was a brief silence before Bee resumed twisting stems together, a single slow curl of her tail to indicate her thought. "I...can't really blame you for that." Bee at last looked up at him, "After...everything that you'd gone through...well I suppose I might've done the same, really." She relaxed her tail, curling it back about herself. "I'm not angry with you for it. Not really."

"Part of me feels justified, but the other..." he trails off, taking the completed crown of flowers and placing it delicately atop her head. Bee tilt her head forward slightly, ears flattening so that he could slip the ring of flowers over them easily. "Part of me wonders if I would have been better off, finding you early on. If I had, maybe I would not be so... so..." He fell silent, not sure how to describe what he was getting at. His golden hues met hers, hoping she could understand what he was getting at.

That soft smile brushed her lips momentarily as she put the final twists in the stems of her own ring of flowers. "...serious?" She finished his sentence, a more playful grin spreading across her face now as she moved closer to him. Her arms were not so long as his, after all.

"So...stoic?" Once settled in, she leaned in to place her own crown of flowers upon his head, adjusting it so it sat correctly, pausing to tilt her head slightly.

"So...well...you?"

"Yeah..." He smiled in spite of himself, bowing his head forward for her to place the flowers upon it. "So me..." It was a small, sad smile, admitting the dim view he took of himself.

"For what it's worth..." She pulled away from him at last, once more placing her hands in her lap as she looked him over, "I hardly mind. I think you've turned out well enough....all things considered.”

The sun sank into the sea behind them as they exchanged quiet smiles, crowned with rings of colorful wildflowers; an image mirroring happier times.

[number9robotic]

Untitled Cyberpunk Magical Girl Project characterization prompt response:

Original prompt by @gallusrostromegalus​!

OC Recap (left to right):

Suzi: Dance student, part-time magical girl/virtual celebrity, half-stoic, half-upbeat depending on the mood.

Kim: Botanist, semi-retired veteran magical girl and mentor, awkward “cool” mom with baggage.

Crash: Delinquent spirit, first magical girl, currently hyperactive virtual ghost, born troublemaker.

Nano: Rebellious slave class member in hiding, uses magical girl powers for personal investigations, comically deadpan.

HD: Gifted rich girl/conspiracy theorist unknowingly chosen to be a magical girl, quiet but eccentric personality.

A. On a scale of “is occasionally forced to bathe” to “Instagram model with sponsors to hoe for” how involved is your OC’s Skincare routine?

Suzi: She’s a teenage girl, so a bit. Even disregarding her online presence, she’s in the know of cosmetics just to look good to friends.

Kim: Very basic hydration and cleanliness, only gets special treatment if something’s actively acting up.

Crash: Currently doesn’t care due to being a virtual ghost. Didn’t care much in her physical life either except for concerts.

Nano: Very basic cleanliness; she’s very out of the loop of many things, optimal skincare included.

HD: Focused a lot. Part of it is casual access to high-brand cosmetics, part of it is natural obsession with cleanliness.

B. What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/ when and how they eat) and how did they get that way?

Suzi: Has a pretty varied middle-class palate, likes even mix of savory and sweet. Very fond of fish and rice (sushi of course) and sugary drinks (boba, lemon tea).

Kim: Very light diet. Just needs something only mildly flavorful like tea or natto rice she can easily have at work, sometimes forgets to eat in general.

Crash: Likes cheap/instant ramen and other fast foods; grew up on the stuff and hates the taste of “real” food. She also likes things spicy.

Nano: Currently expanding taste buds due to lifetime being served nutrient goop. Likes sweets, but only has them on occasion because they cause headaches (taiyaki’s pretty good).

HD: Regularly gets to enjoy high-quality “real” foods, but very frequently jumps to easier-to-access comfort foods like strawberry milk or curry rice.

C. What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?

Suzi: When the train arrives earlier than scheduled, so she misses it and has to wait for the next.

Kim: Zoning out while steeping tea and realizing it’s cold after forgetting about it.

Crash: Anti-aliasing, and the inability to turn it off. NOOOO SMOOTHENIIIIIIING

Nano: Her senior chef’s taste in music. She recently got a job as his apprentice, and she can’t stand the pirate rock he blares in the kitchen. She hates the accents.

HD: Lacking the right word to articulate an emotion or idea she wants to express and being unable to look it up.

D. What’s your OC’s response to being asked for money by a homeless person?

Suzi: “Some other day.”

Kim: (quietly looks to her phone)

Crash: “Nah fam, not today.”

Nano: (completely ignores them)

HD: (quietly looks the other way)

E. Does your OC get lost easily? What do they do when they do get lost?

Suzi: Checks the skytrain routes and maps at the stations.

Kim: Knows her path from home to work enough to never get lost.

Crash: “Thanks, GPS!”

Nano: Checks street signs and looks for maps at skytrain stations.

HD: In order: check maps, call guardians for directions, ask strangers.

F. What would STOP your OC from Doing The Right Thing in a tense situation?

Suzi: If she’s in physical danger without her powers. She don’t punch above her weight.

Kim: If she has no personal stakes in the matter. She doesn’t like escalating conflict, she’s already tired as is.

Crash: If it’s a strictly physical conflict where she’s unable to interact.

Nano: If it’s none of her business. She’s in hiding; attention is bad.

HD: If she doesn’t have powers for it. She’s not even in her teens, fam

G. Realistically, could your OC (in their normal circumstances- i.e. at their own house/battlecamp/spaceship etc.) keep a small child alive for a week if they had to?  A Dog?  A Houseplant? A rock with a  smiley face painted on?

Suzi: She underestimates her ability to accommodate someone/something. She’d start off nervous, but she’d probably pull through.

Kim: Pretty well. She wants to ensure others are safe, she’s just very awkward at it.

Crash: Even in life, she was a mess, so probably not.

Nano: She’s only just learning to take care of herself among the surface world, give her some time.

HD: She’s like 12! She might take care of a plant just fine tho

H. If your OC had to take the S.A.T. tomorrow with one night to prep, how would they do?  both emotionally and academically.

Suzi: Print out practice tests, head to a cafe, get some boba, and hunker down.

Kim: Work at home, take a shower, prepare some tea, scented candles, and some ambient records.

Crash: Wait for Kim to take her to her apartment and force her to do the same thing.

Nano: Internet biiiiiinge. Get the taiyaki ready.

HD: In her room going over various books with some music playing, and probably with a tab open for streaming.

I. What would cause your OC to chose to do something petty/pointlessly cruel?

Suzi: If she’s good friends with the target and another friend dared her to, and/or if she stands to get free food from it.

Kim: If she’s REALLY had enough of you but doesn’t have it in her to tell it to your face.

Crash: If she thinks it’d be funny. It isn’t always funny, but when it is, it is.

Nano: If she’s really angry at you and thinks she can get away with it without notice.

HD: If she’s feeling especially exhausted and has briefly given up on being nice to you.

J. On a scale of “Complete and Justified nervous breakdown” to “Conquer The Entire Galaxy and become an Immortal God-Emperor”, how well would your OC handle being abducted by Aliens?

Suzi: “Oh shit.”

Kim: “Is this a spaceship?”

Crash: “Kickass!”

Nano: “Are you from The Corporatocracy?”

HD: “I was right!?”

K. What song is 100% guaranteed to get your OC beyond turnt and will be sung loudly and embarrassingly, either in public or the shower?

Suzi: “Crazy Crazy” by Yasutaka Nakata.

Kim: “Sad Machine” by Porter Robinson.

Crash: “Whole New World” by SOPHIE.

Nano: She’s not the singing type, but “Giving Bad People Good Ideas” by Death Grips gets it done.

HD: “Feel Good Inc.” by Gorillaz.

L. What perfectly-normal-to-them-thing does your OC do that confuses/pisses off/terrifies their neighbors?

Suzi: Dances to loud mixes in her room.

Kim: Very frequently lights candles or incense in her apartment.

Crash: She used to practice a lot of vocalizations, ie scream a whole lot.

Nano: Have virtually no furniture aside from a bed and table for her laptop.

HD: Own an entire floor of an apartment building.

O. How often does your OC “zone out” or do things on autopilot and how severe have the problems that have arisen from that been?

Suzi: Often, but basically only during boring times where nothing is happening, including stuff that could potentially cause problems.

Kim: Almost never when at work, but frequently gets contemplative when at home.

Crash: As a virtual entity, she’s very active and almost never blanks out. In physicality, CONSTANTLY.

Nano: She doesn’t exactly zone out so much as she gets locked into one sensation/action and is unused to the need to adjust on her own.

HD: She can get twitchy at the worst of times, her mind going on extended tangents if there isn’t a lot of stimuli.

P. How strong or weak is your OC’s Impulse control? What’s the worst thing that happened because of their Impulsivity or inability to be so?

Suzi: Generally gives things careful consideration, but if a prospect is extremely exciting, she may need a reminder to step back a bit.

Kim: Very mellow and not one to making particularly decisive decisions, unless it’s regarding someone’s safety, where she’s very firm.

Crash: Very impatient and prone to making bad decisions without thinking through them. Ever since becoming a ghost, she’s a little more careful for Kim’s sake, but still needs a lot of work.

Nano: Very methodical and calculative, but feels the need to make fast decisions if she decides she has no time to be careful.

HD: Very patient and careful, almost glacial in terms of getting her onto another mindset.

Q. How does your OC sabotage themselves? 

Suzi: She’s forming a double-life as a civilian and as a Magica for excitement, but she isn’t fully realizing the consequences of it or what she must do in the future, potentially barreling into danger for a brief thrill.

Kim: She simultaneously wants to have a normal life away from supernatural shenanigans but is irreparably locked into it with her relationship with Crash, ironically denying herself closure by wanting nothing to do with her trauma.

Crash: Constantly seeks to rebel introduce excitement to the world, but is often dishonest about her own motivations, resulting in an inability to think through her plans or the consequences of her actions, some very deadly for herself.

Nano: Her extremely methodical and calculative approach to everything leads her to make an enemy out of everyone. Her inability to trust anyone to not screw up leaves her pretty ineffectual in her goals.

HD: She’s extremely smart and critical, but constantly traps herself in loops of obsessive paranoia, often isolating herself from anyone else to support her or give her better grounding.

S. How Dehydrated is your OC right now? Are they going to fix this?

Suzi: Keep a reusable water bottle for water, occasionally gets ice tea/coffee if she feels like treating herself.

Kim: Keeps a thermos of hot water/tea.

Crash: Currently NA, previously just gets water from the tap.

Nano: Usually gets her fresh cups at work, enjoys municipal tap water at home. Blame Crash.

HD: Fills a cold water mug from a filtered fridge.

T. What’s your OC smell like?  no, not that “Vanilla and Anxiety” evocative stuff, realistically.  Body odor? what have they been touching all day? When was their last shower? Did they put on any kind of artificial scent?

Suzi: Takes regular care of her hygiene and attends clean facilities, often showers with a peach fragrance that sticks with her daily.

Kim: Smells sanitized and like a dentist’s office when traveling from work, smells like tea and “herbal” everywhere else.

Crash: Like electrons. In life, she showered, but always smelled like a combo of light sweat and coffee.

Nano: Often times faintly like dirt, sometimes with a literal fish-y stench from work.

HD: Very presentable, often has the aroma of strawberry and bread.

[empty-aesthetic-princess]

Happier (Subaru Fanfiction)

A/N: Subaru’s birthday is September 14th so I thought I’d write a little story about my bodyguard baby to celebrate <3 it might have a part two. It might not. *shrugs*

I smoothed out my dress and adjusted my curls in the mirror for what was probably the hundredth time. Ugh, why was I so nervous? I had pretty much gotten used the fancy benefits and state dinners that I’d recently had to attend as the prime minister’s daughter by now, but this one was different. For once, it wasn’t the thought of interacting with complete strangers that was making my shoulders tense. It was the thought of interacting with him and not acting like a giddy little school girl. My fingers trembled slightly as I applied another layer of lipstick. I took a deep breath to calm myself as I stared at my reflection, unrecognizable in the floor-length gold dress and professionally-done makeup. Ever since I realized that I was developing a crush on Subaru, his mere presence put me on edge. My heart beat faster anytime he was near me and found myself tripping up on my words a lot. I just hoped to God it wasn’t noticeable. 

I hadn’t seen him today, since he had been doing security checks inside and around the perimeter of the hotel where the banquet honoring my father was being held. I knew he usually had something snarky to say about the clothes I usually picked out but lately I’d been taking his criticism constructively and I think I actually found a dress that he wouldn’t have any complaints about. The shimmery material fell effortlessly down my body and hugged each of my curves perfectly. I even went to a salon earlier and had them apply my makeup and do my hair in big curls swept over to one side. I looked like an old Hollywood starlet and I couldn’t help but smile imaging Subaru’s reaction. It would be nice to see him speechless for once.

“_______? Are you almost ready? The party is about to st-”, Kaiji’s voice rang out from the other side of the door, but he stopped talking as soon as he laid eyes on me. His gaze swept the length of my body and his mouth was slack-jawed in awe. 

“Kaiji? You okay?”, I giggled. I guess it was nice to see him speechless, too. 

“You look...amazing. That dress is incredible. You look incredible. Just...wow”, Kaiji stammered, blushing furiously as I grinned at his comments. 

“Thanks,” I said, looking back at my reflection one last time. “You look pretty good, too. You clean up nicely”, I added. The blush on Kaiji’s cheeks redden even more as he nervously adjusted his bowtie. I still couldn’t get over how much Kaiji had changed since we were younger. He wasn’t that little kid who constantly picked on me anymore. I still saw glimpses of that boy occasionally but this new mature, responsible side of Kaiji was a striking difference. Admittedly, he was a lot more handsome now but I knew I could never have feelings for him. I saw him more as a big brother, but the way he was reacting to my compliments was making me worried that he didn’t see me in the same way. I inwardly scoffed at the thought. There’s no way he liked me like that. It was probably just my current appearance that was making him so nervous. After all, I had grown up as well. I wasn’t the little girl he remembered, I was the prime minister’s daughter. 

“We better get downstairs,” Kaiji said, clearing his throat and doing his best to compose himself. I smiled at him and gave him a nod. Kaiji offered me his arm and led me out of my hotel room. I tried my best to keep my thoughts from wandering back to Subaru to no avail. For the first time since I’d met him, I was actually excited to see him. I smiled slightly at the thought as Kaiji and I entered the elevator. 

We reached the main lobby and joined the long line of politicians, dignitaries, and businessmen who were entering the hotel ballroom. As soon as we entered the ornately decorated space, Sora’s voice cut over the orchestra that was playing. 

“Whoa! ______ looks like a princess!” I heard Sora’s frantic footsteps running toward me before I actually spotted him, but just then Katsuragi’s booming voice echoed in both Sora and Kaiji’s earpieces, sending their hands flying to their heads in protest to their boss’s shouting. 

“SORA! Do not hug the prime minister’s daughter!”

“Aw, man!”, Sora pouted as he came to an abrupt halt in front of me. 

“I wish there were different channels on these things, so we all didn’t have to get yelled at”, Kaiji grumbled by my side.

“I can always come yell at you in person if you’d prefer”, Katsuragi said sternly behind us, making both of the bodyguards jump. Sora and Kaiji murmured their apologies to Katsuragi and I laughed quietly at the scene before me.

“Miss ________, you look absolutely beautiful”, Katsuragi said after he finished berating the boys. I blushed slightly at his unexpected comment and I smiled politely in return.

“Thank you, Katsuragi. When is my father making his speech?”, I asked him. 

“In about 10 minutes. Mizuki is with him now and they’ll be coming down shortly. I’m going to make some last minute perimeter checks”, Katsuragi said, walking away.

“I expect you two troublemakers to be doing the same!”, he added, into their earpieces this time. Sora and Kaiji whined at the sudden noise, both of them grumbling their complaints at once.

“Why do I always get put in the same category with you?” Kaiji muttered as Sora whispered defeatedly, “Just one hug and all my dreams would come true. I don’t ask for much.” 

I smiled at both of them and rolled my eyes. They’re totally the opposite of professional when my life isn’t in danger, I swear.

“Are you gonna be okay?”, Kaiji asked me as he and Sora started to leave to do their security checks. My eyes absently swept over the crowded ballroom and immediately locked gazes with Subaru. He was dressed in an all-black tuxedo, looking so handsome that I had to remind myself to breathe. I saw him draw in a sharp intake of breath and the shock was evident on his face, and the two champagne flutes he held in his hands trembled slightly. Yes, that was definitely the reaction I was hoping for. 

“Y-Yeah, I’ll be okay”, I said, reluctantly looking away from Subaru to answer Kaiji’s question. He smiled and patted me lightly on the back, then joined Sora out in the lobby. 

I turned back around to look at Subaru and to my surprise, he was still rooted in place with his mouth open and eyes wide. I slowly made my way over to him, careful not to trip over my long gown and trying to take as many deep breaths as possible to stop my heart from hammering inside my chest. My eyes never left his as I walked over and as I neared him, his grip on one of the flutes loosened slightly and it began to slip out of his hand. Subaru quickly exhibited his ridiculously fast reflexes and caught the glass effortlessly.

“Nice catch”, I giggled. I don’t think I’d ever seen him so distracted before. He smiled, dare I say shyly at me, and his eyes traveled slowly down my body as he fully took in my appearance. 

“Nice dress”, he murmured appreciatively. “Looks like you’ve been paying attention to my notes”.

“They’re more like lectures, but sure.” I said, earning a chuckle from Subaru. 

“Fair enough.” His eyes refused to leave my body and I felt a blush rising to my cheeks. I don’t know if it was his perfectly tailored suit or his cologne or just him in general, but it was like I was entranced just looking at his face. He looked up to meet my eyes once more and my breath caught in my throat. 

The look he was giving me right now...holy shit. I’d never seen his gaze so intense before and against my better judgement, I felt myself leaning into his body. He looked so unbelievably hot right now and I wanted nothing more than to just grab his face and kiss him. As if on cue, his gaze moved down to my lips. Was he thinking the same thing? In that moment, I forgot that I was standing in a huge ballroom full of important people. All I could see was Subaru and all he could see was me, and for a brief moment that was all that mattered to me in the entire world. 

“You look really beautiful, _______” he said, his voice deep and sexy. I bit my lip in response, not even realizing I had done so, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Subaru. His gaze darkened slightly at the sight of it, and a thought popped unexpectedly into my head.

Was he...attracted to me? 

“Thank you”, I said quietly. “You look really handsome yourself”. I took a risk then, reaching out slowly and gently running my hand down the lapel of his tuxedo, not breaking eye contact with him. He raised an eyebrow for a split-second at my boldness but a wide, sexy grin slowly formed on his face. I couldn’t tell what his exact thoughts were but I knew they couldn’t have been far off from my own.

“So, is one of those for me?”, I asked, leaning in closer to him and lightly tapping one of the champagne flutes. Suddenly the flirtatious look on his face completely disappeared and he furrowed his brow. I was about to ask him what was wrong, but then a voice called his name from behind me and my heart dropped straight through the floor. 

“There you are, honey. I was getting thirsty”. 

I turned around to see a gorgeous woman dressed in a slinky black gown with a plunging neckline, dark brown hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and a shiny diamond ring on her finger. 

“______, this is my fiancee Jessica”, Subaru said and his voice was twinged with a hint of disappointment. Jessica eyed me haughtily as she strolled past me to take one of the champagne flutes and place herself territorially into Subaru’s arms. I don’t ever think I’d felt so embarrassed before. I hadn’t realized he would bring his fiancee tonight, or that she’d be so god damn attractive. I knew I was an idiot for falling for an engaged man but for a fleeting moment, I let myself indulge in a fantasy, a beautiful dream that would never come true. 

“It’s nice to meet you”, I managed to say to her, desperately fighting back the tears that were threatening to ruin my makeup. Jessica smirked at me, probably because she had witnessed our exchange and knew that Subaru was hers and not mine. She had every right to gloat in her position. 

Subaru’s eyes met mine and he opened his mouth to say something, but the beep from his earpiece brought him back to bodyguard mode.

“______, your father is about to make his speech. I’ll walk you over to the stage”, Subaru said, his professional tone holding no trace of his earlier flirtation. He stepped out of Jessica’s embrace to lead me forward, placing a hand on the small on my back and his touch felt like an electric shock. My stomach was twisting in knots and I knew I just needed to be far, far away from here. Far, far away from him. 

“No, it’s okay. I can make it up there on my own”, I said quickly, jerking away from his touch. Subaru’s expression looked pained but I had to look away. I couldn’t handle his handsome face looking at me like that.

“It’s my job to protect you”, he murmured to me. 

“Yeah, you and 4 other people”, I laughed bitterly. I spotted Kaiji across the room then and silently begged him to come save me. He seemed to understand my face immediately as he hastily made his way across the ballroom towards me. 

“______,” Subaru whispered and I forced myself to look at him. His beautiful brown eyes looked conflicted as he stepped closer to me. My earlier urge to kiss him returned strong and unbidden and I felt myself getting caught under his spell again. I bit my lip once more, this time to stop my tears that were starting to blur my vision and Subaru’s hand reached up to caress my cheek.

I closed my eyes but felt no contact. I opened them up again and found Jessica back in Subaru’s embrace. She had intercepted his arm and placed it around her waist instead, much to Subaru’s displeasure. The sight was nauseating, but Kaiji arrived at my side just in the nick of time. He assessed the situation, looking at all of our faces in turn, before he linked arms with me. 

“Let’s go, ______. Your father is waiting.” I nodded at his blunt tone, gathering all the strength I had left in my body.

“Excuse us”, I muttered politely. I caught a glimpse of Subaru’s face for a brief moment but I quickly turned away from the couple and walked away with Kaiji in tow, not looking back once. 

A/N: I miss MSB. Like, a lot. Subaru was the first one of my Voltage guys that I got to marry so he holds a special place in my heart. So, happy early birthday to my first husband! *giggles at my own lame joke*

[sharknadoslutt]

In The Name of Science - Part 1

Prompt: Dr. Dellum Asajoh is practicing medicine on Coruscant while she studies to unlock the secrets behind controlling the aging process. The planet is now crawling with the very product of accelerated aging, Clone Troopers. Having become obsessed with understanding their biology Dell comes up with a master plan. What better way to get their DNA for her studies than to seduce one of the unsuspecting troopers herself? 

Pairing: Captain Rex X OFC

Warnings: Mild sexual content, mentions of alcohol, and other adult themes.

Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4

A/N: I’m sorry if the first chapter is a bit boring but it’s very much so a set-up chapter. Chapter two and three are straight up smut stories so that’ll be fun! Let me know if you want me to tag you in future chapters :)

The hustle of the booming city roared around Dellum as she stayed hidden in a side alley, her green eyes observing the unsuspecting pedestrians passing by. With a racing heart she pressed her back against the cold wall, darkness covering her completely. Mere minutes felt like hours as she waited for someone specific. Well, sort of specific anyways…

The woman had a plan that was more or less harmless. She just needed some DNA samples from a clone trooper. Any clone would do. Why? Well in the name of medical science! Science that could potential save hundreds of lives throughout the galaxy. 

Of course a blood sample would be preferable but that really wasn’t a realistic goal. So she’d have to settle with a bit of hair, some skin cells, and a semen sample. Clone troopers may have been produced by advanced science but even a clone was still just a man at heart and Dell was well aware of how men looked at her.

She made sure to dress a little more suggestive than she normally would, even for a party out in the city. Her curves were presented boldly through a tight fitting sleeveless one piece which was stitched with a shimmering silver thread. This shined brilliantly compared to the dark grey hue of the leather suit. Her royal blue cloak was made of a glistening silk and draped over her shoulders. The fabric was held together by a silver metal clasp laying inches above the neck of her suit. This left a generous window of skin and presented her cleavage neatly for all to see.

Most civilians who didn’t have day to day interactions with the military didn’t really know a whole lot about the clone troopers, including what they looked like beneath the armor. There were silly theories among the public that they were actually just a new generation of super battle droids and not really men at all. Considering how they were never really seen in public without their armor, it wasn’t the craziest rumor that rolled through the galaxy. In reality it was just speculation born from ignorance. Dell too had been none the wiser until a few weeks ago.

She was Doctor at the Grand Republic Medical Facility on Coruscant. With it being a military facility frequented by visiting Senators, and the occasional Jedi, Dell had surely witnessed her fair share of interesting sights.  

A few weeks ago a Jedi knight and his clone squadron had been quarantined at their facility after being exposed to deadly disease on a backwater planet during a humanitarian mission. Most Doctors had curiously visited the group when they first arrived, surprised to see a bunch of men... Clone men, instead of droids.

With proper precautions and a hazmat suit, Dell had been the one to treat the team. During medical treatment she had built a fine rapport with the team and had eventually gathered the courage to inquire about how exactly they had came to be. 

The clones didn’t really offer a whole lot of information, Dell assumed it to be confidential, but what they did mention interested her tremendously. Especially how they aged twice as fast as a normal man. 

Despite searching multiple databases and digital libraries she wasn’t able to find any information whatsoever relevant to the clone troopers. So, determined to find out more she had to take matters into her own hands. 

The Troopers under her care had been infected with a deadly virus so their DNA was certainly out of the question. However one of the men had mentioned there was a Cantina that catered to Clones on the East side of the city called 79′s.

After that learning that, Dell knew what she had to do, and that’s what brought her here this very night. She stood in a side alley just a few blocks away from the Cantina and waited for an unsuspecting trooper to pass by. There were a few times where they walked in groups.

It felt like hours before a lone clone passed the alley. He wore black combat pants and a long sleeved black shirt. For the most part this is what the clones under her care at the hospital sported, and from what she gathered it’s what they may have worn on their down time. Dell planned to stage a situation where it seemed she hadn’t known the man to be a clone, and from there get him back to her apartment. 

Taking a deep breath Dell stepped forward toward the street before forcing her body to stumble onto the pavement. She whimpered out in pain, actually managing to land in such a way that hurt her a bit. Dell had always had a flare for the dramatic but nothing could top the cry of genuine pain.

“A-Are you alright, miss?!” The man inquired, genuine concern in his voice. 

“Oh I’m just fine!” Looking up at the tall man with glittering green eyes Dell sat up. As she adjusted herself the edges of her cloak pulled past her shoulders to display her bulging cleavage. “I’m sorry about that! These blasted shoes keep making me fall.”

The man was wide eyed and obviously taken aback by the sudden actions that had taken place. Despite this he kindly approached to assist Dell back to her feet. She had expected this much.  

With the clone now before her she had a chance to look him over. Obviously he was identical to the patients under her care back at the Hospital, but still somehow different. He had striking blond hair to set him apart from his clone brothers and Dell couldn’t help but to notice how nice the shade went with his soft brown eyes. There was no denying that these men all had a handsome structure. Tall, strong broad shoulders, and a thick chizzled face. Tonight surely wouldn’t be too bad an experience.

“No need to be sorry..” His chocolate brown eyes avoided her own as he held out a hand, offering to pull her up. He spoke confidently but his flushed cheeks revealed just how nervous he was. “I’m just glad you are okay.”

She gladly took his hand and he pulled her back up to her feet, after which she carefully stumbled forward into his chest.. She did so in such a way that had each of her hands placed over his pecks.

The clone tensed up and chuckled awkwardly, he obviously hadn’t the slightest clue how to react to this situation. Dell let out a small laugh before stepping back, peering up in the blonds eyes.  

“Thank you for the helping hand.” The dark haired woman took a step back, still smiling up at him.

The man stammered for a brief moment, as if at a loss of words. “Just be more careful, Miss. You could have really hurt yourself.” He finally said.

“I dont normally hang out in dark alleys like this, I promise.” Dell chortled, trying to pry some interaction out of him. “I thought I heard a tooka cat trapped in one of the waste bins.” She pointed back down the side alley. “I was right as it turns out… Once I lifted the lid the little guy ran right past me and back down the alley.”

“That was kind of you.” He commented, his voice seemingly more at ease now that Dellum had given him some space. “A lot of people would have just kept walking.”

“You mean most people in Galactic city.” She half laughed. “People on this planet need to learn that a little act of kindness goes a long way. Anyways-” She reached her hand out, ready to shake his. “I’m Dellum by the way, but most people call me Dell.”

Nodding in acknowledgement the man straightened his posture before reciprocating the hand shake. “I’m Rex.” He smiled softly at her, trying to be friendly.

“Rex.” She repeated and gave his hand a playful squeeze before letting it go. “Nice to meet you, Rex. I haven’t really seen you around before-” As she spoke the dark haired girl stepped back on her right foot, executing the next part of her plan. “-are you new in thes-”

As planned the heel of her shoe snapped in half, making her fall back onto her butt. Letting out a small cry in staged surprise she put on a wide eyed expression.

“Careful there!” The clone known as Rex cried out and knelled down on the sidewalk beside her, seemingly very concerned. “You just have an knack for falling, huh?” He chuckled a bit, still avoiding eye contact as he scanned her body to make sure she was fine.

“You’re just in the right place at the right time, I guess.” As she spoke Dell reached over to grab the part of her heel that had broken off. Holding it up she looked at Rex, noting his concerned expression. “I guess this is what the galaxy does to a woman just trying to help the little city animals.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t think of it like that.” He chuckled. “What do they say after all, bad things happen to good people?” 

“That’s a bold assumption for a person you just met in the street.” Dell teased, smirking mischievously. “I could be a spice smuggler for all you know. With a body count higher than you could even trace.”

Rex cleared his throat and tried his best not to show just how nervous he was about all this playful banter. If he didn’t know better he’d say this girl was flirting with him. He was all for military protocol and shooting clankers but interacting with civies was something he had very little experience in, especially beautiful women in such provacative outfits. 

“You’re not... I just have a good sense about people, you seem like a good gal.”

“That’s awful sweet, Rex.” Dell spoke softly as she peered into his eyes.

A quick moment passed where the two strangers crossed eyes and remained in a comfortable silence. There was a strange feeling of quiescence that just felt natural. Rex snapped back into reality rather quickly however and scrambled to help Dellum back to her feet, realizing she was still sitting on the dirty city floor. 

Once she was back to standing, Dell thanked him once more.  Struggling to keep her balance she sighed. With one broken shoe and a large pump on the other, it was hard to stand up straight. She may have done all this to herself but every struggle was genuine. 

“I swear I’m not normally this uncoordinated.” Dell assured him, running her fingers through her wavy dark hair. “You probably think I’m drunk but.. I swear I haven’t even had one sip.” She noticed how his eyes fell to her exposed chest so she placed a hand on her hip, purposely pulling her cloak to the side to expose her curves. “I’ve never been one to wear heels like this. I only just purchased these today and now that I’ve taken a stroll around, well, I might as well have just given my credits straight to the Hutts .. saved myself the hassle.”

Rex actually found himself laughing at her comment, enjoying her humor. “I’m sure I wouldn’t have been any better, things look like a pain in the neck.”

Dell smiled at him and this time it was genuine. The blond seemed very kind and in another life perhaps they could have enjoyed a few rounds together at the bar only to fall into bed together naturally. But in today's reality she had plans to execute and only needed him for one night... 

“I can’t thank you enough for helping me off my ass… twice.” She shrugged. “But I’ll let you get on your way, I need to head back home.” 

Taking a step forward she wobbled but stayed on her feet. She continued to walk down the street, pretending to struggle more than she actually was. “You have a good night, Rex!”

“You sure you’ll be alright?” The clone asked after a second, obviously concerned by her lack of balance.

“Yeah, I dont live to far to go.” She pretended to stumble only to catch herself mid-fall. Her wobbling her arms put on a the illusion of a real balancing act. She took another few steps forward and grew concered when Rex didn’t say anything else. Until he did, that is..

“Well, if you dont live to far, then please allow me to escort you home.” He offered.

Bingo.

“No, you dont have too do that!” She protested, however this is exactly what she had wanted. 

“Oh, but I insist. I’d spend the rest of my night assuming that you fell down face first on the pavement.” He gestured down the street to a shady cantina. “And as I’m sure you know some faces in this city are not as friendly as mine.”

Dellum paused for a moment to give off the idea that she was genuinely still considering refusing his offer. “Well you're quite the gentleman, aren’t you, Rex?” She finally mused, flashing him a brilliant smile only to earn one back in return. 

“No, I-I wouldn’t say that!” He rubbed the back of his head bashfully, chuckling a bit. “Just like you said, a little act of kindness goes a long way, right?”

Amused, Dell nodded and pointed down the street. “My apartment is about a fifteen minute walk past the market. If your truly up for it.”

“Certainly ma’am.” He extended his arm for her to link onto, a way to give her balance during their walk. When she locked her arm with his Rex couldn’t help but to blush a deep shade of red, not used to touching another person in such a situation.

And so the two strangers walked arm in arm through the rough streets of Coruscant, making light conversation that came very naturally. Their pace was slow, due to Dell’s shoe situation, but neither of them minded very much.

Rex was under the impression that Dell was just a normal woman who hadnt known what he really was. It wasn’t abnormal, there were plenty of civies who didn’t recognize a trooper without his armor. It was kind of nice to feel like a regular man for once. A normal man walking a beautiful woman home. No ‘Yes sir’ or exhausting military formalities… just a taste of normalcy, something Rex knew he would never have. It was nice to pretend. 

Dell lived in a building on the higher-end side of town and Rex noticed the prestigious qualities right away. He had to wonder exactly what Dell did as a means to afford this. As they arrived in the lobby of her building she removed her shoes.

“Now that we’re off of the disgusting city streets I can go the rest of the way bare foot.” She held both shoes with her hand as the door to the elevator opened. “Do you want to come upstairs for a drink?” She chimed, a subtle playfulness to her voice. “I have some Corellian brandy that’s just no fun to drink alone.”

Rex felt as if his stomach had fallen out of his body, rolled out into the street, and been trampled by a parade of Wookies. She was inviting him upstairs, to her apartment? To her personal living space? Him? Rex and his clone brothers may not have a lot of experience with intricate social situations like this but he was no fool, he knew what she intended by inviting him up. 

The moment of silence which passed as the man processed what she had asked of him alarmed Dell, giving her a sense of doubt to her master plan. So she took up the sex appeal a notch, desperate to keep things on schedule. 

“I-If not I understand.” She paused for a brief moment, running a hand through her curly chorchol hair so that it wafted down the side of her face. She then reached out and gave Rex’s shoulder a suggestive squeeze. “But I’ve just enjoyed your company so much an-”

“I-I enjoyed yours too!” He blurted out, immediately feeling embarrassed and flustered. He was on high alert, as awake and cautious as he would be on any battlefield. But he wasn’t at war today.. now was he? For the first time he let his brown eyes shamelessly wonder to the girls exposed skin, he unforgivingly stared at her cleavage. He could feel his cock twitch in excitement and he knew his face probably glowed beyond red.

He’d never seen a naked woman for himself. Of course all of the clones knew what sex was, it was a part of the social learning process back on Kamino. There had been a few clones that he knew of (Fives included) that claimed to have actually gone all the way with another person. As far as socializing with civies went there were strict rules about what one could and could not do. There were technically no rules that explicitly stated sexual intercourse was off-limits, only that having a committed relationship or fathering children was prohibited. 

“So..?” Dell chirped quietly, licking her lips as she stepped into the elevator, motioning for the man to follow. It was only then had Rex realized just how long he had been in quiet thought.

“I’d love too.” He finally said, trying his best to sound as smooth as possible. The clone followed her before the doors closed. For once the man was at a lost, not having the slightest clue as to what he should expect. 

I tagged some people I thought may be interested! @deepseacritter @pretty-fly-for-a-jedi @rex-ol-boy @arandompuffin @littlemisscancer @floral-and-fine 

[toxoiddiamond]

T H E B A S I C S Given Name: Elijah Anthony Mitchell Nicknames: Eli Age: 17, nearly 18 Birthday: December 7th Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius Birthplace: Seattle, Washington Current Location: Chicago, Illinois Speaks: English and Russian, both fluently. Education: He ran away the summer before his junior year, so I guess that technically makes him a dropout. He plans on getting his GED at some point though, and hopes to go to college in the future. Occupation: Unemployed~ he’s had little short-term jobs here and there since leaving home, but hasn’t held down a consistent job. There have been times where he’s been desperate enough to sell himself for money, but those times were few and far between, and he considers that to be a last resort. Vehicle: None. He walks almost everywhere, and takes public transportation for anything long distance. Worldly Possessions: A super beat-up backpack, a few changes of clothes, a couple of books, and some basic necessities. Pet: None, but he absolutely adores animals. And has occasionally given scraps of food to stray animals he’s come across. And has maybe missed a bus on one occasion because he was playing with a stray cat he found and didn’t realize his bus was leaving. He would love to have a pet once he’s in a stable living situation.

A P P E A R A N C E Height: 5’9”, but he is still growing~ Hair: Dark brown, fairly short. Fluffy and soft-looking, not expertly cut because he often trims his own hair. Facial Hair: It grows in slowly and is a little patchy, so he tries to shave as often as he can. Eye Colour: Blue-gray, very striking, especially in certain lighting. Skin Tone: He is very, very white. Clothing: His clothes are pretty worn out at this point—little holes here and there, some tears and rips in his jeans, and everything he owns is slightly faded. Ideally, he would want to dress in a somewhat hipster-y style; not totally hipster, but he likes that general look and would probably dress like that if he had the money to get new clothes. Distinguishing Marks: A long, thin cut on the right side of his shoulder/chest from getting attacked/mugged. He probably should have gotten stitches for it, but couldn’t afford to go to the ER, so he just did his best to superglue it shut. It’s definitely going to leave a nasty scar, though. Face Claim: Sebastian Stan Alternative Universe: Age Difference AU/Mob AU

H E A L T H Physical Health: Meeeh. I mean, considering the fact that he’s been essentially living on the street for a couple of years, it’s not bad. But he goes hungry way more often than he should, and being constantly exposed to the elements has not been the healthiest thing for him. Not to mention the risks he’s taken by agreeing to sex with strangers (luckily, he didn’t contract any diseases). So, basically, he’s not gonna die or anything. But he could be healthier. Mental Health: Again. Considering that he’s been living on the street for a couple of years, it’s really not bad. He hasn’t lost his mind or anything, and although he’s not exactly an optimist, he’s still managed to keep a surprisingly good outlook on things as he bounces around from place to place. He has a lot of plans for the future, things that he wants to do in his life, and that’s what’s kept him going. However, he is extremely lonely, and really craves any sort of positive human interaction.

H I S T O R Y Job History: He has never had a job before. He would really like to have a job—having a steady source of income sounds like a dream come true to him—but it’s been difficult for him to find anything. Ideally in the future, he’d love to work in a coffee shop or a bookstore, something simple and repetitive that wouldn’t be too stressful, while he puts himself through school. His ultimate goal is to become a high school English/Literature teacher. Fondest Memories: Lots of memories involving being with his family. Especially the family trip they used to take every summer. He still has a couple of family pictures with him, though he doesn’t look at them too often. Worst Experiences: His parents dying. His first sexual experience, which was completely consensual, but not at all good. He was also recently mugged, which really fucked him up.

C O M M U N I C A T I O N Speech Pace/Style: Elijah generally is soft-spoken. Very shy and quiet, he has a tendency to stutter and stumble over his words, especially if he’s nervous or anxious (which is most of the time). He often takes a bit longer to respond than other people, as if he is carefully choosing his words or mulling the situation over in his mind. Accent: Plain old American accent~ Usual Curse Words: All of them. He isn’t shy with the curse words.

P E R S O N A L I T Y, M I N D S E T, A N D B E L I E F S Personality Type: INFJ Sense of Humor: He has a tendency to be a little on the serious side, but he doesn’t like that about himself, and wants to learn to lighten up. His sense of humor is still pretty good, even if he’s not very funny himself, and it isn’t too hard to get him to laugh/smile. Sometimes when he laughs, it almost seems like he’s surprised that he’s laughing. Habits: Rubbing the back of his neck when he gets nervous. Biting his lip. Running his fingers over things with interesting textures, like countertops, walls, etc. Covers his face with his hands/arm when he laughs really hard. Fears/Phobias: Heights really freak him out, and being in high places gives him serious vertigo. He’s afraid of the dark, but would never admit to it. He also has some abandonment issues, which isn’t so much a legitimate fear, but just something he worries over. Strengths: Although he would prefer stability and sameness to some extent in his life, he is surprisingly good at adapting to new situations. Change scares him, but he also knows that it’s necessary at times, especially given the nomadic lifestyle he currently leads, and so he’s learned to deal with it. In the same vein, while he would much prefer not to be alone constantly, he’s good at being independent and not relying on others to give him advice or tell him what to do. Having been on his own for a couple of years now, he’s had to learn to fend for himself. Elijah is a very soft-hearted, genuinely kind person. He takes pleasure in making people feel comfortable around him, and likes to do nice things for people. This sometimes leads to him being taken advantage of, and has gotten him into trouble in the past. He has a lot of empathy, both for people and for animals, and hates to see anyone in pain. Flaws: He can be extremely stubborn at times. If he believes he is right about something, he will hang on to that belief, sometimes even in the face of direct proof that he is wrong. Elijah is sometimes too independent for his own good, and often refuses to accept help, even if he needs it. He wants to be able to do everything on his own, wants to prove that he is a capable person and can take care of himself, but the truth is that he needs to be taken care of sometimes, and he has a hard time with that. He also tends to live in his head too much, and doesn’t have the easiest time sharing his feelings. His instinct, when he’s depressed or anxious or anything, is to withdraw from everyone and isolate himself, which isn’t the healthiest thing. He just doesn’t want to burden others with his issues, especially if he thinks they can’t help anyway. Self-Esteem: He’s really hard on himself a lot of the time. He gets frustrated/angry with himself if he feels like he’s done something wrong, and he’s not very confident in himself, always questioning himself and second-guessing his decisions. Religion: Atheist, but he’s not super hardcore about it.

R A N D O M Sleeping Position: He sleeps on his back most of the time, and stays very alert at all times, waking up at even the slightest sound. If he was somewhere he felt more safe/comfortable, he would sleep on his side curled up in a ball. Boxers or Briefs?: He has a couple pairs of each. Day or Night?: Day—he feels much safer during the daytime. Top or Bottom?: He would prefer to bottom. But given the fact that his sexual experiences have all been awful, his partner would have to be willing to take things very slow with him. Partying or Relaxing?: He hasn’t done much of either in a long time. He would always pick relaxing, though.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S Closest Friend: He had a couple of friends back home, but he hasn’t been in contact with them since he left. He has no one in his life right now, and although he’s a bit of a loner anyway, he is in desperate need of someone he can trust/be close to. Relationship History: He had a girlfriend for about a week during his freshman year of high school—long enough for him to realize that there was no way he was into girls. Besides that, he hasn’t had any relationships. Sexual Partners: Unfortunately, none of his sexual experiences (three in total) have been pleasant for him. They’ve all been with men who paid him for sexual favors, and Elijah hated every second of it. That said, he doesn’t regret any of those encounters, because the money he got from them meant he was able to eat, or to get a bed in a hostel for a while, and he thinks that was probably worth it. Thoughts About Sex: Although his experiences have not been great, he still likes the idea of sex, and wants to try it with someone who actually, you know, cares about him. It still makes him nervous, though, and he’ll likely need a lot of patience and understanding before he’s ready.

P A R E N T S Name(s): Sawyer and Evelyn Mitchell Age(s): His mother died in a car accident at the age of 35, and his father died of cancer at the age of 41. Occupation(s): His father owned a successful bar/restaurant in Seattle. His mother was a stay-at-home mom, and she took a lot of pride in that. Quality of Relationship With Their Children: Eli was always extremely close with his mother, and was devastated when she died. He was never as close with his father, especially after his mom’s death, but they did love each other. Eli misses both of them a ton, but hasn’t allowed himself any time to really mourn since his father passed away, preferring to shove those feelings to the back of his mind and not deal with it. Living/Deceased: Both deceased, unfortunately.

D A I L Y L I F E Living Arrangements: Elijah ran away from home shortly after his father’s death, to avoid being put into the foster care system, or—even worse—sent to live with his closest relatives, who would most certainly have sent him to a straight camp. He’s been homeless since then, jumping from place to place, sometimes sleeping on the streets, other times in shelters or hostels. He’s mostly just biding his time until his eighteenth birthday, when he plans to find himself a job and an apartment and start getting his life together.

[msbigredmachine]

The Mechanic - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

An impromptu trip to a service station leads to an encounter with a sexy mechanic. Her car isn’t the only thing he works on. Roman Reigns/OC.

Comments will be greatly appreciated!

"No, no! Not now, goddamn it!" Anya smacked her hand on the dashboard, which was showing her bad news. The check engine light had come on out of nowhere, and before she knew it her car had stuttered into a complete standstill on the side of the road. "Great, just great," she griped. 

Her 2005 Chevy Impala always seemed to have one issue or the other. In the past year, the alternator had given up, then the air-conditioning had died on her, and now it was obviously the engine’s turn. The car was just a goddamn mess, and her former quack of a mechanic hadn’t helped matters either. But berating him was not going to solve her current dilemma. She still had a couple more errands to run, and she was yet to get her grocery shopping done. But now, the car wouldn't crank anymore, and worse, it was a Sunday. She didn’t know many service stations that were open on Sundays.

Anya’s only saving grace this late morning was that the car had died about four blocks away from a service station. Remembering that, she made a decision then and there, and she grabbed her purse, climbed out of the car and headed down the other direction towards the shop. She was so glad she started going to church again. The good Lord had obviously answered her prayers to get her out of this mess.

The service station looked deserted, with the small customer service desk and waiting room both empty. No customers were waiting around, and there didn't appear to be anyone working there. The garage bays were all open, but the sign on the front door read ‘Closed’. Anya sighed tiredly. She was so screwed. She’d walked all this way down, in her heels and her sundress, for nothing. How the heck was she getting home today? And what was she going to do with her car? 

 A deep voice sounded seemingly out of nowhere, interrupting her gloomy thoughts. "Can I help you, Miss?"

Startled, Anya spun towards the service bay, and on seeing the owner of the voice, her jaw slackened. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming. The man standing in front of Anya looked like a GQ model. Tall as hell, light-skinned with long dark hair, large, muscular arms, and the most beautiful face she had ever seen. His white t-shirt was thin and smeared with grease along with his arms and one side of his face, and his jeans were worn and streaked as well, but the only served to make him look sexier than he already clearly was.

Holy shit.  

"Miss?" he said, startling Anya from her trance. His eyes bored through hers, and a knowing smile had formed on his face. She could tell right away that he was used to women staring at him, and he was clearly enjoying the attention. Anya wanted to smack herself for being so obvious. She didn’t mean to stare, but man… "Oh, I'm sorry," she tried to recover, focusing on his eyes so her own wouldn’t wander down his body again. "My car’s engine just died a couple of blocks from here. You work here, right? Please tell me you’re open today."  

The tall glass of water nodded with a smile. "You’re in luck, Miss. We’re open for the next three hours or so. I can go get the wrecker around back so we can pick up your car. Wanna come along for the ride?"  

“Sure!” Anya blurted out, and then cringed inwardly for sounding so eager. If he noticed, he ignored it, merely laughing and leading her around to the back of the station to the tow truck. As he helped her climb in, she said, “You’re a life saver. I had no idea how I was gonna get my car home.”  

“Like I said, you’re in luck,” the hottie said, “We actually don’t open on Sundays. I was just there to catch up on some work.” He glanced over in her direction for a brief moment. “I’m Roman, by the way.”

Roman. Quite apropos, as he looked a hella lot like the Roman gods of that era. “Anya. Nice to meet you,” she replied.

“Anya. That’s a beautiful name,” he complimented her with a dazzling smile, and Anya felt herself get warm all over. They got to her car, and she watched him load it onto the wrecker, observing how his muscles rippled the whole time as he worked. Once they got back to the station, he off-loaded the car into the nearest service bay. He opened the front door, popped the hood, and then went to the front of the car, looking under the hood to evaluate the problem. Anya stood by, staring at his fine, firm-looking ass as he bent over the front of the car.  

"Well, it looks like the car got a little overheated,” Roman assessed, his eyes still on the engine. “But it don’t look too badly damaged. I can get the car fixed in about an hour, two tops," he added, lifting his head to look at her. “Is that alright?”

Anya sighed with relief. “Of course. Oh thank God. That’s good news for sure.”

"Glad to hear,” said Roman. “Would you like a drink while you wait? Juice? Soda? Water? It’ll be on the house," he offered.

“Thanks, but I’m good. I just really wanna get this car issue sorted out as quick as possible.”

Roman smiled. “I understand. You probably got somewhere to be, maybe a date or something.”

Anya shook her head. “No, no date,” she clarified, feeling her face warm slightly. “Haven’t had one of those in a while.”

“Wow, that’s a surprise. I expected a beautiful woman like yourself would have guys tripping over themselves to get to know you.” His comment caught her completely off guard, and the look he gave her as he eyed her from head to toe sent a tingle down her spine, all the way down to the spot between her legs that had been smoldering ever since she first laid eyes on him. Would it be so forward if she told him she wanted to get to know him, in a far less appropriate, far more intimate way than he suggested? She chose to keep her mouth shut, only offering him a sweet smile in response.

The silence began to grow awkward, and Roman cleared his throat. “So, uh, how about you take a seat in our waiting room while I get started?” 

“Sounds good.”

Neither moved. The two continued to gaze at each other, and Anya felt a warm sensation in the pit of her stomach as she sensed the tension building between them. He would be doing much more than fixing her car if she didn't get out of here and let him do his job. She made her way to the waiting room and sat down, playing with her phone while her car was being repaired. From her vantage point, she could see Roman working. He seemed like he knew what he was doing, so she didn’t worry too much about her car. She would also occasionally look over at the man himself. She wasn’t in a relationship, so she had free reign to stare all she wanted. She didn’t think he was taken either, at least he didn’t give off that kind of vibe. He was so damn gorgeous though. His muscles, his hair, the big hands…she liked big hands. A lot. She guessed he was Polynesian, judging from his exotic features and the style of the tattoo that adorned his right arm. His t-shirt rode up a little, giving her a glimpse of the black briefs covering up that ass, and she imagined how firm they would feel in her hands. Feeling flushed, she shook away the naughty thoughts and concentrated on her phone.

After an hour had passed with no update on the progress of her car, she decided to go and check in on the mechanic. “Hey, how’s it going?”

Roman turned around, his eyes briefly flickering down to her legs as she approached him. “I think I’m done, actually,” he stated, ducking from under the hood and grabbing a clean napkin on the worktable next to him. “Wanna take a look?”

He watched Anya step forward to take a look inside the hood, placing herself at the center of the engine, and he felt himself get hard as he admired the view. The position left her bent at the waist, causing the hem of her short sundress to inch higher and further expose off her bare legs, which looked fantastic in those heels. He’d only met her a couple of hours earlier, but he’d felt the electricity crackle between them from the jump and it still simmered now. Anya was gorgeous, sexy, with a delectable body that made him want to unleash his inner beast and do unspeakable things to her. He couldn’t deny that he wanted her, and he sensed from their interaction that the feeling was mutual. 

"I’m not sure what I’m looking at, to be honest. I’m terrible with cars," Anya was saying, still looking inside the hood. She had deliberately positioned herself this way, with her back to him and bent over, for Roman’s benefit. She could feel the warm morning breeze against the backs of her legs, and she could feel his eyes locked on her. Her ass was pretty much in his face, basically giving him an all access pass to her goodies. She secretly hoped that he would take the hint and take advantage.  

Then she felt it. His large, warm hand curling over her hip. Anya closed her eyes, drinking in the feeling of the stranger's touch. It lingered in the silence of the moment, as if asking for permission to go further. When she gave no objection, his hand gently slid over her belly, while his other hand made its way up her dress simultaneously. She gasped as his body pressed against hers from behind, and the first thing she felt was his erection, alert and pressing persistently against her backside. The hand in her dress made slow, deliberate circles over her thigh, and she found herself silently begging for his hands to be more daring, to touch her more intimately than he was allowing himself to. She grabbed the top of the hood with one hand as he wedged his thigh between her legs and pressed himself more earnestly against her. His breath was warm on her neck, and Anya gasped again as his mouth met the base of her throat, his tongue darting out to lick the patch of skin there. 

“Tell me to stop, Anya,” Roman growled low, lips dangerously close to hers, and she shivered in his arms. His mouth then shifted to her ear as his hand continued its voyage of her inner thigh. "Tell me to stop, and I'll back off, let you pay for the repairs and leave my shop. But if you don't, I'm gonna fuck you right here on your car, and I won’t stop until you’re coming so hard you’ll be seeing stars."

Anya gave a breathy moan as she rolled her ass into his crotch, craving every inch of what she felt there. "Oh, Roman…Don't you dare stop."

She heard his low moan, felt his lips brush over her neck one more time. Placing his fingers underneath her chin, he guided her face up to his, scooping her lips in a carnal, searing kiss that almost brought her to her knees. Fuck, he tasted so good, a delicious mix of mint and man that she would never forget. She wasn’t sure how long their passionate kissing went on for, but it wasn’t long enough.  Then, without warning, he dropped to his knees behind her. Both his hands were up her dress now, sliding along her upper thighs and over her hips. Anya tried to remain silent, her eyes squeezing shut as he continued to caress her, but when his large palms swept over the curve of her ass and brushed over her heated core, she let out a whimper of pleasure. 

“Shut the hood and lean forwards,” Roman ordered, waiting for Anya to comply. Satisfied that he had her under his complete control, he began kneading the rounded globes of her ass, exploring the softness of her flesh, which was a rather sensual contrast to his workman hands. She shifted her weight back enough to spread her legs slightly, giving more access for his assault on her body. She felt him push her dress up to her back, felt his hot breath on her skin, his lips pressed briefly on her ass as his fingers crept even closer to her most intimate spot. Roman then hooked his index finger around the tiny fabric of her lace panties, pulling it aside, and without warning, he shoved a finger into her wetness, sending shockwaves through her.

"Ahhhh," was all that came out of Anya’s mouth. She pushed her hips back against his hand, helping him guide his fingers inside her . Still on his knees, Roman used his fingers to rub up and down the length of her slit, coating the digits with her wetness. Anya cried out as he then plunged deeper into her depths. She braced her hands on the hood of her car as she rolled her hips over and over, riding his fingers. Just as she was approaching ecstasy, nearing the edge of complete euphoria, Roman pulled his fingers out of her, leaving her hollow and empty.

“What the fuck,” she panted, glaring with frustration at him over her shoulder as he stood up, a smirk on his face that Anya would have considered obnoxious if she didn’t find him so fucking sexy.

Roman locked eyes with her as he licked each of his fingers. “Don’t worry baby, we ain’t done.” He pulled off his shirt and flung it aside, and Anya’s mouth watered at the sight of him. His tattoo climbed up his arm all the way past his shoulders and over his pectoral muscle. She helped him get rid of her dress, and she blushed at the look in his eyes as they raked over her body. He moved forwards until she was sat on the hood, and he reached up to caress her breasts through her bra. He dipped his head to kiss her again, teasing her with his tongue as he explored her taste. Anya groaned as he molded and kneaded her breasts, and she returned the favor by unbuttoning his jeans and promptly sliding her hand inside. She stroked his dick through the briefs, giving him a firm squeeze and pumping him. Roman groaned at her touch, and he pushed her hands away and scooped her up, setting her on the hood of her car.

Anya leaned back on her elbows as she watched him yank down his jeans and boxers at the same time, standing before her in all his naked glory. He had a body she'd only fantasized about, including the thick shaft that stood erect and ready for her. She wanted to touch him so bad, taste him, to slide her tongue over that big dick, to push that throbbing erection into her mouth and down her throat. Her eyes lifted to his, seeing in his brown irises every bit of the desire and hunger that she was feeling.

Roman let his fingers curl through the lace panties she was wearing, and she happily tilted her hips for him to pull them off her. He blindly tossed the underwear over his shoulder as she spread her legs wider, exposing her glistening, swollen flesh to his hungry eyes. Shit. She was so wet, so appetizing. All he wanted to do was lower his mouth onto those swollen pussy lips, to lick and eat her until her eyes rolled back, but right now, it was more important to be inside her than anything else.

Her dark, dazed eyes met his as he leaned over her, one hand on either side of her, flat on the hood. She reached out and pressed her hands to his chest and abs, licking her lips hungrily as she caressed him. She groaned as he dipped his head to kiss her shoulder, feeling his hand wind behind her back to unclip her bra. Throwing it aside, he cupped both her breasts in his hands, ducking down to suckle on one nipple, then the other. Anya's hands slid into his long, silky hair as he feasted on her breasts. His dick brushed her thigh as he leaned over her and she felt a shudder in her loins. She needed him inside her so badly. Her head falling back, she moaned and squirmed under him, making his erection slide up and down the inside of her thigh, pleasuring her just as much as his mouth on her breasts. 

Roman finally lifted his head, loving the way her nipples puckered from his sucking. His dick ached for her and he was finding it more difficult to hold himself. He gave her left nipple a quick bite that had her gasping. "Spread your legs a little wider," he told her, his tone matching the way his body pulsed with need. He stepped up between her legs, a big hand already on his cock, stroking himself as he aimed for her swollen slit. “You ready for me, baby?”

"Yes..." she answered, watching intently as his head pressed into her pussy, and she threw her head back as she felt the first stretch of her muscles around his thickness. "Oh fuck, Roman..." Her moan trailed off as he slowly pushed himself into her, stretching, filling, overwhelming her. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Her legs curled around his waist, and his calloused palms were on her ass, lifting her against him so he could push deeper, penetrate her to the hilt. It was like she was made just for him, the way she accommodated every inch of his length, the way she throbbed around him, the heat and pleasure that submerged him and made him quiver for more. Her pussy wrapped so tightly around him he wasn't sure he could breathe. The sensation of her inner muscles rippling against his thickness was incredible, and he hadn’t even started fucking her yet. Growling under his breath, he drew his cock back and thrust into her. Hard. Noting the way the pleasure flooded her features, he did it again, and again, until he’d established a sweet, sensual rhythm. Each stroke had her gasping for breath, her full lips parted open and causing pleasure to flood through him. It wasn’t long before he picked up the pace. “Damn, your pussy’s fuckin’ drippin’, baby,” Roman commented, pushing up on her as he thrust harder into her. “So fuckin’ tight too. Fuck.” 

A gasping Anya wrapped her hands around his biceps and tried to keep her eyes on him, but she couldn’t, not with the delicious precision with which he hit her sweet spot. Even as she moaned, he leaned forwards and bore down on her, his hands locked over her shoulders, holding her still while he hammered white-hot pleasure into her body. He would pause to roll his hips, burying his dick inside her, then he would accelerate again, battering her pussy with the force of his thrusts, and she cried out again and again. “Yes, yes Roman, fuck me,” she moaned, her hands dragging down his back to clutch his ass. It felt as firm as she imagined it to be, and she scraped her fingernails over the taut skin, enjoying the way the muscles clenched and unclenched beneath her palms with every thrust of his hips.

Grunting, Roman shifted her legs up to his shoulders. Sharp breaths escaped them both as he fucked her with reckless abandon on the hood of her car. All he wanted was more, more of her body, more of her warm, soaked pussy, and he was determined to get it all.

“Fuck, I’m comin’ baby,” Anya whined, her legs starting to tremble as her pussy clamped around his dick. “Fuck, I’ma come all over this dick.”

“Yes, baby girl. Come on my dick,” Roman rasped, grabbing her legs from his shoulders and spreading them far apart as he kept up his relentless tempo. He groaned as the blood surged to his groin and he swelled inside her. He looked on with triumph as Anya’s eyes widened, and suddenly she screamed, her body arching, her legs shaking as she came apart around him. He sensed his own orgasm impending even when her inner muscles started to relax, and he couldn’t control himself when it did. He moaned loudly as his balls clenched and his dick throbbed and pulsed inside her. He fell on top of her, pinning her to her car as he emptied into her. Anya shuddered when he went limp on top of her, her hands stroking his back, her other fingers curling in his hair. When he was finally able to catch his breath, Roman shifted back, both of them moaning as his drained dick slid out of her. He held himself up on his arms as he observed her, taking in her flushed, satisfied face, her kiss-swollen lips and disheveled hair. She looked damn beautiful, and it was a sight he didn’t mind seeing every day. "You alright, darlin?" he drawled. 

Anya returned the smile, licking her lips as her pussy still pulsed from the incredible pleasure. "I’m good. Very good," she murmured, "Hell of a service you just rendered. Does it come with the repairs?" she asked with a wink.  

Chuckling, Roman picked his briefs and his jeans off the floor and put them back on. "Nope, it’s part of a very exclusive package. One that you, baby girl, are free to enjoy whenever you want." It was his turn to wink.

Anya giggled at his reply. “I’m gonna hold you to that,” she said, sitting up as Roman handed her dress to her. She reached for her discarded underwear but he grabbed them before she did and held them up in the air. “Um, those are mine,” she told him, her eyebrow raised.

To her surprise, Roman shook his head and tucked the tiny scrap of lingerie into his back pocket. “Not anymore, baby,” he growled, “You want ‘em back, you know where to find ‘em.”

“Hmm. Sounds like a future invite, handsome.” She hoped this was the case.

“I guess it is.” He shrugged, and his deep voice sounded casual, but his smoldering gaze held more intent than his words did.

Anya couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. Luckily, she didn’t live too far away from the service station, so she would have no problem finding him again. “We’ll see.” She pressed a kiss to his mouth, running her tongue beneath his top lip. Then, she slid off the car and sank to her knees, her gaze filled with mischief as she pulled his jeans back down. "Now, let’s see about paying for my car, shall we?"

THE END.

TAGGING:

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[feynites]

♜ for stronk muscle warrior lavellan getting a massage from solas! (In cannon or the mit au???)

Life for the Dalish isn’t always what people imagine it to be, she knows.

Clans, after all, have children, and elderly, and sick, and disabled people - just like communities everywhere do. There are holidays. Rest days. When times are good, and hunting grounds are plentiful, and foraging is rich - when there’s trade to be had, even, with other clans, or with friendlier human settlements - she would venture to say that it’s a much more pleasant life than that of a peasant farmer, who works field after field and sees most of their gains vanish in taxes and tithes to their local lord. 

Dalish do not have lords. When things are hoarded, it’s because they’re being stored away for the clan’s future. 

But. That doesn’t mean it’s a life without considerable strain, especially for those who are strong enough to bear it. She’s no stranger to gruelling days. And nights. Working from sunup ‘til sundown. The Inquisition is more mercurial in its demands than the clan. She’s more apt to get back to camp, or to Skyhold, only to find that she has to turn around and march right back out again. And if there’s one thing she’s learned to hate about Ferelden and Orlais alike, it’s mud.

Especially in Ferelden. Thick, clinging, stinking mud that cakes on and sinks in, that makes roads into swamps, and turns considerable areas of terrain into sinkholes and traps. Scout Harding tells her that the mud worsened, after the Blight. A lot of forest had to be burned down, and plant life cleared out, to try and stop the spread of blighted flora and fauna. Even after the darkspawn had been driven out. With no trees to shield huge segments of soil from rainfall, or roots to block off flooding rivers, mudslides became a much more common hazard of northern Ferelden. It’s one reason why she tries to avoid any treks out to Denerim, wherever possible. 

Mud makes for hard work on the road, especially when it strikes where least expected. They’re a week out from Skyhold when a nug dashes across the road, and spooks the horse pulling their supply cart; and the animal bolts, and between one thing and another, the cart and most of its supplies end up stuck in a veritable river of roadside mud.

As Inquisitor, she’s gathered, she’d be within her rights to just let the troops and some of her party handle it. And this time, she’s almost tempted to.

But she dismounts, anyway, because she’s strong and unlike some of the troops in their party, she managed to sleep through the windstorm last night. There are biting insects, and the mud is - to be honest - probably full of horseshit, too, and all of it sucks and stinks and fights their best efforts to get the cart out. Even Solas’ attempt at levitating the thing only lifts it up just enough for them to start hauling the back wheels free, before he has to relent to the tenacity of the earth. 

It takes them three hours to get the cart unstuck, and to load up all the crates full of keep supplies that fell off of it. Nothing broke, at least; the mud made for a soft landing point, she will grant it that much. Then they have to resume their trip, with the insects following along. They have no hope of bathing, so the only thing for it is to let the mud dry - itching and hot - and then scrape it off.

An hour after that, they find out that their Inquisition banner got left behind in the muck when a group of bandits decide that they look for easy targets. Tired, covered in enough muck to dull even the brightest shine of armour, and clearly loaded down with goods.

It’s not a pleasant fight.

She’ll leave it at that.

In the end, the delays pile up, and they don’t make it to their set rendezvous point in time. She sends a few scouts ahead, to let the group they were supposed to meet with know about the delay, and the rest of them set up camp with the only piece of good fortune being that they manage to find a decent-sized stream before they do. Fit enough for some of them to finish getting the worst of the mud off of them, although the water is ice cold, and it’s still tough work; scrubbing skin and armour, standing in the riverbed, with the wind whipping around and the water freezing her ankles.

She feels like one entire bruise by they time she settles in front of the roaring fire which, she thinks, looks most definitely magical.

“Thank you,” she tells Solas. 

He inclines his head.

“You over-exerted yourself,” he notes, settling next to her at the fire.

She supposes it’s a little obvious, now. Even cold as she still is, she hadn’t had the energy to pull on much more than her spare tunic and an untied pair of breeches, before slumping in front of the fire.

“I wouldn’t have, if I’d known we’d be fighting suicidal bandits very shortly after pulling everything out of the mud,” she assures him. She knows her limits. Life just seems very set on testing them, of late.

“Going into the water was unwise,” Solas proceeds to opine, and she glances sideways at him.

“Trying to sleep while every crease of me felt caked with shit would have been worse,” she assures him. “I know what you mean, though. I’m going to be stiff in the morning.”

She stares into the fire, resigned to her fate; and then the sound of something clinking, slightly, draws her attention.

Solas settles an unfamiliar tin onto the ground next to her knee.

“I may be able to help, if you are willing,” he says.

She raises an eyebrow.

“With a spell?”

He chuckles, just a little.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a salve and a backrub,” he admits.

For a brief moment, then, all she can do is envision Solas’ hands on her skin. His very lovely, very fine hands, which seem to have been pleasantly warmed by the fire, and which put decidedly warm thoughts into her, too. She clears her throat, and in an effort to keep from making a fool out of herself, picks up the tin he placed next to her. The contents look creamy, and smell a little odd. But not unpleasant. She thinks she’s seen some of Cullen’s troops using something similar, though it’s not much like Deshanna’s concoctions.

She glances at Solas, and hands the tin back to him.

“That would be very kind,” she says.

He inclines his head.

“I confess, I feel a moderate amount of guilt for not wading in with you,” he tells her, as he shifts around towards her back. She swallows, and tries not to think too many inappropriate thoughts, as she slides the back of her tunic up.

“You shouldn’t,” she tells him. “You wouldn’t have been much help if you were standing knee-deep in it and couldn’t actually move enough to cast a spell.”

“I am fit enough. I could have helped in other ways, if I had chosen to,” Solas tells her. She hears him rub his hands together, and smells the salve; and lets out a slight breath when he touches her. His hands are, as expected, warm, and the salve warms easily, too. Solas’ touch is very deft, and he seems to know what he’s doing as he pinpoints the most strained spots along her shoulders and spine, and begins to work them over.

“Magic is helpful,” she assures him, a little more breathlessly than she means to.

“It is,” he agrees. “And I do not have your musculature, that is for certain. You are very... well-built.”

She raises an eyebrow - that he can’t see - and a snort of amusement escapes her.

“Flattery?” she asks, and then gasps as his thumbs find a knot, and press it in just the right way to make it ache tellingly.

“Once again, I am only declaring verifiable facts,” he assures her. “Though if you find my facts flattering, I will not object.” His thumbs roll over the knot, digits smoothly working it out, until she feels a rush of relief that tingles all the way up to her neck.

“And if I begin to find you charming?” she wonders.

His hands pause, just for a moment.

“I would hardly object to that, either, I suppose,” he permits, though his tone changes. Getting a little more deliberate, maybe.

She lets out a breath.

It’s a lie anyway, of course. She’s found him charming for quite some time now. The ship has sailed, as it were. The aravels are on the trail. Solas continues to rub at her back, moving along up to her shoulders. She can’t bite back the occasional groan of appreciation, as he manages to ease aches she hadn’t been wholly aware of, and untangle muscles that loosen whole other ones in the process. Eventually he even ventures his touch to her arms, running his palms across her aching biceps, and shifting in place a little as she begins to sag.

She imagines what it would be like if he did this for her legs, too, but she stops that train of thought quickly enough. Massages are tiring work for the masseur, and his day has been long, too, and she won’t presume upon him anyway. This is nice enough; and it will keep her limber enough for tomorrow, as well.

Still, she can’t quite resist the urge to capture one of his hands, when he finally pulls back.

“Thank you,” she says, curling her fingers around his own.

Solas stares at her for a moment, his gaze unreadable. And then he inclines his head.

“It was no trouble,” he assures her. Courteous, and nothing more. This kind of interaction wasn’t uncommon among her clan, for that matter. It’s just practical not to let the people whose strength you’re relying on run themselves ragged, or risk needless injuries.

She should just leave it at face value, she supposes. For the kindness that it is, and not for the other kind of warmth that his touch has inspired in her. And that’s what she’ll do.

That’s what she does.

She finds it takes a moment of effort to relinquish his hand back to him, even so.

[voxvulgi]

3. 4. 7. 8. 10. 12. 13. 21. 24. 26. 27. 29. 33. -warrioroflondonbelow

Super detailed questions about your OCs

@warrioroflondonbelow

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

Hailey thinks she had a pretty good childhood. She grew up with people who loved her and tolerated her loudness and excessive energy. She grew up supported and well-fed and cared for, and that’s really all that matters. Fond memories include sibling fights and Father’s/Mother’s Days (that’s verse dependent) and things as little as Disney movies and happy meal toys. Her fondest memories include surprising Kate/Sean (again, verse dependant) for her/his birthday. A bad memory could be a time her classmate told her she wasn’t invited to his birthday even though she shared her cookies/biscuits with him every day and came to think they were friends.

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

In both of her main verses, Hailey grew up with only one parent. In the Supernatural verse, her mother Kate was a nurse who had to support her children on her own, which meant she wasn’t around often for quality time. But when she was, Hailey loved to spend time with her in any simple day. She didn’t feel very close to her, however, and confided better in her brother Adam. A good memory with Kate was when she had a day off and took Hailey dress shopping for her coworker’s wedding. A bad memory is when Kate had an all time low and opened up to Hailey about her insecurities and Hailey’s dad. It wouldn’t have been too bad, but Hailey was about 12 at the time, so.

In her other verse, that’s quite the opposite. She’s much closer to her father Sean than her brother Brent. She trusts him and depends on him ridiculously, openly shares her thoughts and actions with him, and still asks him if she could go out/have someone over even though she started college. He’s her favourite person in the world, and she’d give anything to keep him happy. His support and love are a huge part of why she turned out so bubbly and positive. A good memory is almost any memory, really, but one of her favourites is when he dressed up as Maurice (Belle’s dad) to go trick-or-treating with her one Halloween when she was dressed as Belle (Beauty and the Beast). A bad memory…is really hard to think of. It could be one of the nights when he came home from work utterly exhausted and refused to let her take care of him (ex: Make him a meal). Really, the saddest moments between Hailey and Sean are when one of them is radiating negativity and not willing to share or interact with the other.

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

Hailey’s main focus as a child was her family. There were nice kids in her class, and she made friends with them, but she couldn’t make them as close as her brother and parent and didn’t think they could love her as much, either. So she didn’t keep any of them into adulthood, but all the friends she makes and pulls into her heart as an adult are here to stay.

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

In the Supernatural verse, she couldn’t get a pet even though she wanted one. In her other verse, she and Brent would occasionally take in stray cats and care for them. She’s always wanted to get a dog, but Brent is a cat person, so.

In some verses where she lives alone as an adult, she has a cat. Dogs feel more like a family pet to her, and she probably wouldn’t get one unless she at least gets a roommate – which she hadn’t so far.

And yes, Hailey absolutely loves animals. She likes to pet and feed them or simply watch them go about their day. (For example, sometimes she forces Emmanuel ( @dangerous-smoll ) to take her to the part after rain so she could watch the snails. What a dork.)

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/etc?

Hailey likes children, and it’s mutual. She has this child-like spirit in her, so it’s pretty easy to spend a good time with kids. Her energy and random imagination contribute to that. She doesn’t have any children in any verses, though, and is actually unsure if she wants them. What she knows is that, at least for now, she doesn’t because Hailey doesn’t believe she’s ready. Being a friend to children is so different from being a mother, especially before they reach their teenage years. But she does make a good godmother/aunt/babysitter. She babysat a lot during high school. It mostly worked out for her because she loves to play with children and exhaust their energy before declaring bedtime. There were mean kids, though, and they were the worst. Some would only get meaner the nicer Hailey tried to be.

12. What is their favourite food?

Hailey loves loves loves loves loves loves loves junk food. Her favourite is any mix she finds herself making (ex: popcorn with salty worms?? Ice cream and french fries? YES PLEASE.) She loves pancakes and to make pancakes. She also loves Chinese food with tons of veggies.

13. What is their least favourite food?

Remember when I said she loves junk? Well, she actually hates fried chicken/nuggest/cheap hot dogs. Hailey loves to cook, and she might as well be making good meat if she’s gonna be eating any. Fried meats feel gross on her lips and heavy in her stomach.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

Hailey is the most patient person you’ll know. Even when someone disrespects or mistreats her, she’ll continue to be good to them although such behaviour causes her to become distant. When she finally snaps, you must know that the person who caused it had done something really, really bad. She doesn’t look very threatening, but she does yell and withdraws any positive attitude and deeds. If you really piss her off, she’ll stop interacting with you unless absolutely necessary, but she wouldn’t ever hurt you.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

Hailey is an early bird. Sometimes she sleeps late, but she always wakes up early because she loves the morning and has made a habit of making breakfast for her family. When she does stay up late, she gets quieter and weirder as the night goes on. She doesn’t snore, and she likes soft mattresses she could nearly sink into. It reminds her of swimming.

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

Hailey displays happiness in various ways. She could be singing and jumping on the bed, skipping around the house while doing work (ex. Reading an article for an assignment), and she especially displays her good mood by singing and dancing as she makes breakfast. When people are around, she’d rush over to them and give them energetic displays of affection (ex. tight hugs, cheek-pinching, serenading.)

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

Two things can make Hailey really sad. The first thing is if someone she cares about is truly hurt. The second is open, rudely stated rejection (ex. a stranger telling her to “fuck off”) or someone yelling at her out of frustration/anger. She doesn’t cry often because she takes it upon herself to be the most positive person she knows, but when she does cry, she does it alone or in front of someone very close to her. When Hailey is sad, she either tries to hide it with a smile or is eerily quiet. (This answer is, of course, situation-dependant. There’s always exceptions.)

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?

Depends on the fear. If it’s something like the fear of umbrellas, she might tease you about it if you’re close enough. If it’s social anxiety, stage fright, etc, she wouldn’t make light of it and insist on supporting you. If the fear is a person, Hailey will be overprotective as hell.

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

Hailey’s style has two moods: garbage and fabulous. When she’s feeling garbage, she’ll be lying around in sweats and wearing comfy granny panties and sometimes no bra. If she’s feeling fabulous, even without occasion, she’d put together and outfit and could go as far as wearing matching lingerie for no reason.

[sumukhcomedy]

Two Years Without a Drink: How “Rapid Rewards” Almost Became “Rapid Decline”

I recently “celebrated” two years since I stopped drinking alcohol. I took a 30 beers per week habit and shut it down to 0 immediately in late April of 2015. I didn't go to AA. I just poured as much self-control as I could into it. I just did it for my well-being, didn't talk about it all that much, and spoke to the small number of meaningful people in my life that I could turn to when I needed to about it. I suppose I should be proud.

Many times when people reach these types of goals and want to write about them they share how much of an amazing achievement it is and how much better they feel. They deserve to. It is an accomplishment and their addiction and their issues were likely far worse than mine ever were. If you Google it, there are a plethora of different essays written by people about “what they learned” as a result of stopping drinking or getting sober for various periods of time. Again, this is great if that's how they feel and what they want to share.

In my case, I do feel like I should share something to mark this anniversary but my relationship with this is also very odd and unlike what a person expects when they think of someone stopping drinking. I still have the occasional non-alcoholic beer. I still am around alcohol constantly because of comedy and because of the friends that I have and because of, well, society and its relationship with alcohol.

While I am proud, I'm also disappointed. And it's because now 2 years in I can tell you that the desire for alcohol hasn't fully gone away and I've accepted it may never will. I wanted to believe that I wasn't that deep into it but with upwards of 30 beers per week for more than 9 years, I really was. And it sucks. It sucks that I haven't lost that desire at times. It sucks that I force myself to not have a drink again knowing the direction it could take me. While 95% of the time, it feels like one of the greatest decisions of my life and I know that it is what is best for me, there is that 5% of me that absolutely hates that I can't have a drink and that I can't fall into that coping mechanism again and that I can't seek that beautiful rollercoaster of joy and self-destruction.

So, I'll share a story. It's a story of how an envelope with pieces of paper in it had the potential to destroy me again and that there was a part of me that really wanted that.

I travel a lot because of comedy and my job and my personal life. I fly a lot with Southwest Airlines and, as a result, they are kind enough to send free drink coupons in the mail to their Rapid Rewards members. It's a nice gesture if you love drinking but a nightmare if you're me. I have 8 free drink coupons and I've allowed myself to be obsessed by them at times.

A part of my problem with drinking also came with my own personal value. Some of that value comes in drinking. Similar to what I had written before about junk food, if it's provided for free, it's hard to not enjoy it and not feel like I'm wasting an offer. Then, especially within comedy, when two little red drink tickets are the reward I receive for doing a show in L.A. it's hard to not feel like I'm tossing away the value of my work. Combine this with an already long history with drinking and it's yet more pieces of paper quantifying my existence. 

In these two years that I haven't consumed alcohol, I've fantasized about drinking a lot. Some days I try to believe that I could return to drinking and pour the self-control that I have into moderation. But very little about my interaction with alcohol and its appeal grew to be about moderation for me. It was about getting messed up and escaping and now the escape is more about the thought of drinking than actually drinking. I'll have dreams where I'll be at a bar and order a beer. Then in the dream I just stare at the beer. I don't actually drink it. So even in the dream I have enough awareness to have self-control but not enough to not blow my money for just a look at what I can't have.

Such a dream passed into reality with the Southwest Airlines drink coupons. I kept thinking about how easy it could be. Who would know? I don't know anyone on a flight. I could simply hand the coupon to the flight attendant, say, “Dos Equis, please” and be drinking again. I could get away with it without my family or friends ever knowing. I could just be a person again who has a drink on a flight. I could finally feel like I was normal again. I could finally get that release. On any of my Southwest flights, I'd keep the drink coupons in my laptop bag. I allowed myself to be obsessed by them. I allowed myself to be comforted by them. For some reason, just knowing they were there and that at any moment I could just do it felt great. It felt just like me in a dream staring at a tall beautiful draft of beer at a bar.

About a month ago, I was going through a particularly rough personal period. I've become used to these happening on occasion in my life. It only lasts a day or two and no one else is ever particularly aware of it. These were the times that triggered me in the past to drink the hardest. I coped with the worst by escaping it with the drink. At the same time, I was going to be boarding a flight. So, here it was. It was the perfect time to cash in those drink coupons and throw it all away. I had to text my close friend to give me some words of encouragement to not do that and she did.

But, still, I'm alone and on a flight and loneliness and my mental battles are a lot of what made me want to drink. I spent the first portion of the flight just staring straight ahead and mulling if I was going to do it. I picked up the in-flight magazine and just stared at the drink selections even though I'd been obsessing about a Dos Equis again in my Southwest Airlines fantasies. The girl sitting next to me on the flight would have thought I was insane had she not been asleep listening to music. Finally, the flight attendant came by and asked my drink order and I said, “ginger ale.” I got through it but there's still a certain different type of misery to not being able to have that beer, that freedom, and that potential destruction. Within a day, everything was fine and was back to my normal process in life and without a real interest to drink. But this is the element to the two years that I never expected: that life would bring so many different little challenges to not drink and how difficult and irritating it would actually be to face those challenges and defeat them.

               I used to be “The Most Interesting Man in the World.” 

Being around drinking is, at times, frustrating. I have to deal with it because I do comedy and drinking surrounds comedy. Drinking is a part of the business model of comedy and our society from the happy hours of my job to general interaction when meeting someone new. I can remember so many of these brief frustrating moments. There was the comedy show where I had to pose with the other comedians around a Tito's vodka bottle. There are the tons of drunk people I've had to interact with at parties or at bars after shows while I sat there sober and wondering why I had to deal with them. There are the crowd members who jokingly or disturbingly say they'll buy me a shot even after I've told them I stopped drinking. There are also the tons of jokes that I have to hear by people about drinking whether it be hilarious drinking stories or jokes along the lines of “My kids make me want to drink.” My mental reaction to this drinking humor can range from laughing at the jokes to thinking “Fuck you. You decided to have kids. Just be a good parent” depending upon the mood I'm in. That's what happens when there's a certain glorification of alcohol within society but you've removed yourself from that glorification. I can laugh when I can relate and be lighthearted about the memories associated with alcoholic stupidity but it's hard for me to laugh when it makes me remember that there were many nights that alcohol was killing me and I wanted it to kill me.

I try my best to look at the bigger picture and I chose to stop drinking because it had gotten out of hand to me personally and didn't reflect who I was anymore. I wanted to be me and lead by example and to do that I determined that alcohol could no longer be a part of my life. I genuinely feel happier and bring more joy into comedy and into life than I ever have before. But the habits of the past and the desire to oppose that joy are things that simply won't go away. So, constantly, I have to remind myself of the bigger picture even if so many times the smaller, quicker, selfish, in-the-moment picture of a drink seems so appealing.

I could write another “what I learned” essay like so many that exist on the Internet but there’s nothing to me about it that there was to “learn.” It’s pretty logical that not drinking alcohol is better for you than abusing it. It’s more so that my focus in life just changed. When I drank, I accepted that life was miserable and depressing. It still is to some extent but each day I wake up and try to be happy and try to bring joy to myself and to others. My mind just could not handle alcohol anymore. There are a lot of my colleagues in comedy or friends or even just strangers I’ve encountered who are depressed and perhaps they should remove alcohol from their lives as well. A depressant can’t possibly help one’s depression. But that’s their choice and I’m not about to push my beliefs on them. But, all I’ll say is every day I try to be happy and every day has felt more rewarding as a result. It’s also felt great to not have a hangover for two years. 

That gets me back to the real reward: Southwest free drink coupons! Realizing their hold over me, I tried to sell them on eBay but eBay doesn’t allow the selling of gift cards or coupons unless a person is a frequent seller. It was almost as if eBay wanted me to keep torturing myself as well. But, in some weird way now, I feel comfortable in embracing the drink coupons. They are now there more as a reminder to not use them than they are for me to actually use them and slip back into my old habits. I could give them to people that I sit next to on flights or just let them expire in a different act of selfishness than drinking.

The desire to drink may never go away. It can even come from something as simple as a little piece of paper that was given to me with the best of intentions. But I take even those smallest and insignificant triggers as a challenge. I could have taken a “Rapid Reward” and easily turned it into a rapid decline. Instead, I use it as a reminder that the true reward is not rapid. The true reward is the much longer and more patient journey to happiness and peace.