#it's the noise inclusions for me;; help it's cute

[botanikos]

[theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass]

I’ll save you a seat | L.N.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris is just that kind of guy who would save you a seat <3

Warnings: fluff<3

Word count: ~1K

You're the new face at McLaren, a bit of an outsider in a world of high-speed machines and the intense camaraderie that comes with it. Shyness becomes your loyal companion as you navigate the bustling Formula 1 scene, trying to find your footing on this elite team.

Whenever there's a function, a meeting, or a casual gathering where the whole McLaren team needs to sit down and talk something out, you often find yourself standing next to the door. It's the one place where you feel most comfortable, the place that allows you to maintain a safe distance from the boisterous conversations and the daunting glances of your new colleagues.

You watch from the shadows, trying to absorb as much as you can while hoping not to draw too much attention to yourself.

But, unknown to you, someone has been watching you closely, someone who's intrigued by your quiet presence. Lando Norris, the talented and charismatic driver, has taken note of the newcomer who always seems to be on the periphery. He's decided that he wants to change that.

One day, as you enter the conference room and lean on the wall next to the door, Lando is there, making eye contact with you. You're caught off guard, and your heart races as you wonder why he's looking at you. Maybe he's not actually looking at you, so you quickly glance around, seeking the source of his attention.

"Y/n, come here, there's a free seat," Lando calls out, breaking your self-imposed isolation. His voice is friendly and inviting, and you're not sure how to react. Your heart flutters as you slowly make your way towards the empty chair beside him. Sitting down, you're enveloped in a whirlwind of emotions as the meeting begins, Lando's presence beside you comforting and disconcerting in equal measure.

And so, the cycle begins. You walk to lunch with your teammates, the bustling cafeteria filled with lively chatter and the clinking of utensils. But amid the noise, your eyes always find a pair of familiar blue ones on you, the ones belonging to Lando Norris. He spots you, gives a friendly wave to join him, and you can't help but smile.

The seat next to him is always saved for you, a silent promise of friendship and inclusion in a world that was once daunting. You exchange small talk and laughter during those moments, gradually growing closer through the little conversations you share sitting beside one another. As time goes by, you begin to feel more at ease within the McLaren family, thanks to Lando's warm gestures and kind heart.

Late one evening, after a particularly lengthy conference at the McLaren headquarters, Lando offers to drive you back home. It's a kind and unexpected gesture that catches you by surprise. As you both sit in his car, you work up the courage to ask him something that has been eating at your heart recently.

"Why do you always do that?" you inquire, your voice tinged with curiosity.

Lando glances at you, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Do what?"

"You always save me a seat," you explain, your eyes searching his for an answer. "I don't know... just because."

"Just because what?" you presses, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

"So you wouldn't stand alone next to the door, and... yeah that" Lando hesitates to tell you the second part.

"And?" you urge, voice barely above a whisper.

His heart pounds, and he take a deep breath before continuing, "And because I like having you close to me."

"Aww, that's cute," you say with a soft, genuine smile, "I like having you close too."

Lando can't help but smile back, his feelings now exposed. He's been hoping that you'd pick up on his intentions, and your response reassures him that you feel the same way. Before you know it, you've arrived outside your house.

You're parked outside your house, the dim streetlights casting a warm glow on the two of you. Lando turns to you, his eyes filled with sincerity, your last words echoing in his mind still urges his question, "Really?"

You meet his gaze with a loving smile and a heart full of affection. "Really," you affirm, placing tender kiss on his lips, a silent promise of the love and happiness that lies ahead. After the kiss, you exit the car, your heart feeling lighter than ever, and Lando watches you with a contented smile as you walk toward your home, knowing that your relationship has just taken a wonderful new turn.

"Y/n," Lando calls out as he exits the car.

"Yes, Lando?" you respond, a sense of anticipation in your voice.

You barely have time to react before he softly pushes you against the door and kisses you passionately. It's a moment of raw emotion, the culmination of the time spent growing closer and the unspoken feelings between you.

"Will you be my girlfriend when I ask you?" Lando finally manages to say between breaths, his eyes filled with hope.

"Aren't you asking right now?" you reply with a playful smirk.

"I did not spend two months devising a plan on how to get close to you," Lando chuckles, "just to ask you to be my girlfriend at your apartment door."

You tease him, "Does this mean I'll have to wait another two months for you to come up with another brilliant plan of how to ask me to be your girlfriend?"

Lando grins and leans in, "Sweetie, you best believe I've already picked out the flowers for our wedding day. You won't wait long, I promise."

With that, he seals his promise with another sweet, heartfelt kiss, and you know that this is just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

^^

A.N. very much inspired by the line from "Lover" by Taylor Swift, which reads "And at every table, I'll save you a seat".

P.s. Lando's race yesterday was so good! I was crying, laughing and rolling on the floor by the end of it! Glad to see him doing so well<3

[hazelfoureyes]

The Safeword is RadioApple (part 4)

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins

Happy SunSinday! I really hope you like this. Thank you to @sugoi-writes for treating me to the coffee that helped me power through this. I’ll need like, atleast half a day of no writing to recover the mental exhaustion 😂 I’ll be back Monday to catch-up on all the comments and inbox from the last 2 days!

Lucifer lets fate decide how he and Alastor will show their dear kitten their teamwork skills.

「warnings/promises apply to both routes: RadioApple x FemReader, threesome, Lucifer x Alastor anal, p in v, soft breeding kink, Luci calls himself Daddy, biting, choose your own adventure, heaven ain’t got shit on Luci, fingering, tentacle fucking, cuddling, creampies, cum fucking, lots of deer references partially because of @n-after-me’s latest fic, sweet words, Happy Luci」

Deer Duck Kitten

Finally. You finally had both men in a place where you could enjoy each other as a group, instead of just you getting fucked by two people at the same time. 

You had half recovered from your hangover by early afternoon, but the little slip you made earlier in the day was just causing a new headache to emerge.

When the men both questioned what exactly you had meant, you decided the best option was to take your own advice and shut the fuck up. So shut the fuck up you did, for a solid three hours, while lying in your bed face down.

New problem now. Perfect. 10/10, you suck. 

Alastor and Luci were huddled in a corner of the lobby, two arm chairs pulled together and facing away from the others.

To Alastor, you had said something unspoken until then. The only difference that he could see was his …embracing of Lucifer’s inclusion in your relationship.

Lucifer was partially blind, the stars orbiting his head shining too brightly for him to see or think properly.

“Was that normal?” Lucifer asked.

“Not for us, no.” 

Lucifer, unblinking, “It’s too soon for sure for us.”

Alastor’s static aura flickered, “Obviously.” Lucifer glared.

“She’s obviously happy we got along so…well?” 

Alastor nodded.

“So let’s show her our teamwork in action! Let’s take care of her. Together.” He winked, making Alastor grimace.

“Take care of her how? Because she’s sick?” You were still hungover.

“No… take care of her.” Lucifer’s brows rose up and down, saying the words a little louder.

The air around Alastor snapped, a crackle of static returning, “I’m not deaf, I just don’t understand what secret meaning you’re hinting at.”

The normally patient and polite king’s face scrunched before he grabbed Alastor by the lapels and pulled him close, seething, “Take care of her. In bed. Sex. Fuck her.”

Alastor scowled, dark gums peaking past his lips, “We do that nearly nightly in some fashion, your majesty.”

Nose pressed to nose, forehead to forehead, “I am going to fucking kill you.”

While what they were saying wasn’t audible, Angel was adding his own narration to the video he was taking, “I’m gonna fuck you, Radio Demon.” He attempted a regal voice. “Not if I fuck you first! ha ha ha,” His best shot at a trans-Atlantic accent.

“You’re insufferable. Just speak plainly!”

Lucifer opened his mouth to reply but instead of words, a choked noise as he turned his face away. A deep blush now rising up his neck to his cheeks. A flash of a memory of Alastor’s dark eyes looking down at him over his wet body, stomach bulging with every thrust. Could he really say it out loud?

“Oh.” Alastor sat back in his chair, “She and I haven’t…” he searched for a delicate word, “Explored other avenues.”

Now who wasn’t speaking plainly?

“Well we could rearrange the order a little.” Lucifer sandwiched his hands together in hopes he could keep the details unspoken.

Alastor hummed, “Who would be in the middle, so to speak, if not my-”

“Our.” Lucifer cut him off.

A sinister snarl of a grin, “-dear.”

Lucifer put out a fist, “Did you know rock paper scissors or are you too old timey for that?”

“Loser has to hold open their gaping hole and-,” Angel jumped and nearly dropped his phone when Charlie bounced up beside him.

“Awww Dad and Al are playing games together!”

He snickered, tears forming in his eyes, “Yeah like tugga war and hide the pickle.”

“I think it’s called tug-of-war, Angel.”

Angel patted her on the head and turned to flee, “Good catch, princess. Nothin’ gets by you.”

They couldn’t decide who would knock, so both did. You weren’t ready for the conversation yet, having to explain it was just an expression and not intended to be a declaration. You and Alastor used many other words instead; my beloved, I adore you, my love. You had found comfort in the steadiness of his adoration, never a fear he would leave so you never worried much at the lack of direct ‘I love you’.

But …. Luci. You could see in his face how desperately he needed to be overshadowed with someone’s love. To be the one to eclipse all of his insecurities with a warm blanket of consistent affection? You’d die again for the opportunity. Just—- not yet. Certain words are meaningless without action. And you hadn’t done much more than cuddle and have sex. You needed to show him your love before you said anything about it. 

Another set of knocks. You whined, they didn’t deny you anything so how could you deny them? “What?”

“Kitten?” mixed with “Dear.” from outside the door.

You called them in, not watching as Luci beelined for the bed and Alastor closed and locked the door as quietly as possible to not bother you. 

“Does your head still hurt?” Lucifer slid up to your right side. You opened your eyes, turning your head to him. 

“No.”

He smiled. You felt the bed dip, Alastor settling to your left. 

“Are you feeling otherwise unwell?” Alastor asked. Rolling off your stomach to turn fully to Alastor now, surprised at the gentle conversation. You had anticipated an interrogation. 

“I’m fine now. Just don’t feel like moving much so… bed.” Luci’s hands slipped over your waist as he cuddled into your backside. You couldn’t help the smile you made. Alastor kissed your forehead, and your smile grew. Much more tender of an interaction than usual. Normal events involved you passed between the two, them taking turns with your attention when not actively having sex.

You were the little buffer between them. It always felt like they were trying to enjoy you without needing to realize the other demon existed in the room at all. 

Alastor made a show of taking his hand and sliding his fingers into Lucifer’s, resting on your waist. 

Manually breathing, you tried to keep your face neutral to not scare away the moment. 

Luci propped himself up and leaned over you. When Alastor leaned too, receiving a kiss from Luci on the lips you rolled onto your back. You’d never seen the Eiffel Tower from underneath but as you stared directly up as Lucifer kissed Alastor again, and again, you could imagine what it must be like to be under such a grand display. This was the first time you’d seen them intentionally touch each other… other than attempted murder. 

Did Lucifer win rock paper scissors? Cum here

Did Alastor win rock paper scissors? Smash this

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @slutforlucifermorningstar , @sarlaccussy , @saccharine-nectarine , @looking1016 ,@sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

[dearest-dirt]

Headcanons: Hal Jordan as a dad

Warnings: Fluff

Gender Neutral Reader

Authors Note: Hi!! I'm trying to get through stuff I've already written in the past. But, I've lost interest in DC, so this is gonna be the last set of DC headcanons (unless I get back into it in the future). As with my other head canons, I tried to make these as inclusive as possible so if you catch any mistakes, please let me know. Bestie, please reblog. I hope you enjoy my work!

Masterlist

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

Chill dad™ 

Would definitely want a few kids, especially after the first one. 

Hands-on dad, tries to be super involved with his kid’s upbringing and life. He helped out as much as he physically could with the newborns. 

Knows all his kids likes and dislikes.

Would play dress up, have tea parties, play with Barbies and dolls, nerf gun fights, video games, superheroes and villains, cops and robbers, water balloon fights, etc. Basically anything his kids want to do he’s down.

Dad jokes galore

Constantly would show the Justice League and other Lanterns pictures and videos of his kids. 

“Hey, wanna see my kid do a black flip on the trampoline?” 

“Look at my kids, aren’t they just the cutest?”

“We took the kids to the zoo, look at them feeding the giraffes.”

Supportive af!

His kids would never feel like they can’t tell him or talk to him about something. 

When his kids are infants, he’ll fly them around the house to get them to settle down. 

Cute things you constantly witness: 

Hal passed out with a baby napping on his chest

airplane noises whenever he feeds them

reading books to them with funny voices and sound effects

pretending his kids are planes and “flying” them around the room

Him being wet from bath time because he got carried away playing with the ducks and other toys

kids climbing him every time he sits down

Super affectionate dad; tells them constantly that he loves them and is proud of them. 

Hal would be firm and strict with his kids if and when he needs to be.

He wants to be the best dad that he possibly could, so at times he can be super insecure about his parenting abilities. He always turns to you when he feels like that and you always reassure him and point out how great he is. He would do the same to you whenever you feel insecure about being a good parent. 

First time he was called away for superhero business, he would be a mess. Constantly calling to make sure the baby was okay. 

“Hal, you called 10 minutes ago! The baby is fine!”

“I know but I just want to make sure.” 

But overtime and with each kid he got better at dealing with being away.

You guys would decide not to tell your kids that he's a Green Lantern until they are old enough to keep secrets (because kids tell everyone everything). But once they find out, oh boy, they would always want him to fly them around and beg him to use the ring to play games. Hal would love it! Especially if he’s their favorite superhero. 

Hal would take you guys to OA and other different planets when the kids are old enough.

Would help with homework if he’s home. Wouldn’t always get things right though.

“Dad, the answer is 43. How did you get 186?” 

“I swear this was easier when I was in school!” 

Would beg you to let him take them out on plane rides. 

“They’ll be fine, babe! I’ll take care of them! They’ll love it!” 

“Hal, they are toddlers.”

Barry, Guy, and Kyle would be the best uncles! So would the other Lanterns/League members! 

“The Flash is my favorite superhero!” 

“Uncle Guy/Kyle's the best green lantern ever.” 

“Batman’s the coolest superhero ever.” 

“No, Superman's cooler because he can shoot lasers from his eyes.” 

Hal: -_-

Loves his kids more than anything!

[keigosstarlight]

Pairing: Dabi x GN!Reader

Warnings: NSFW/18+, kidnapping, captive darling, noncon & dubcon, BJ, head pushing/guiding, mind break(?) (reader is sympathetic after a bit), praise & degradation, calling reader "pet," reader calls Dabi "Touya," burning, punishments.

Wordcount: <1000 (700+)

Summary: A.U. where Dabi kidnaps you after he's killed Endeavor.

A/N: This is the first fanfic that I've ever shared. 🫣 I also don't write a lot anymore, so I'm hoping it's decent enough. This was originally a fem reader, but I wanted to be more inclusive, so apologies if I missed anything! I read this like eight times, but shit happens. My brain is fried and I wrote this in like an hour.

You resisted when Dabi kidnapped you, but after that first night when he punished you, you decided it wasn’t worth it. He had fucked you senseless, face buried the mattress as your tears stained the sheets. The fading burn on your hip is a constant reminder how he held you despite your pleas, the stinging sensation of the flesh now numb in your memories since your brain forcibly detached. The events are fuzzy at best and completely hidden at worst.

Besides, he treats you well enough, rewarding your obedience with some new clothes that you were sure were more for his eyes than your own happiness, your own toiletries, and a cute little collar with a “T” on it. Of course, if he takes you anywhere, they have to know you belong to someone. He even gave you your own bedroom to retreat to. Sure, he barged in sometimes and invited himself to your bed, but his heat was a comfort now. When you woke up to his palm pressed to your stomach as he held you close, it was almost enough to make you forget.

Every day, you watched the news with him while they replayed his video, time and time again. You heard the details of how his father abandoned him, that his father only married his mother for what her quirk could provide - every single day. After so long of hearing about that abuse, of seeing the anger in his face every time the number one hero showed up, one day you felt you couldn’t be mad at him anymore. Despite Endeavor being dead now, it wasn’t enough to soothe that fire in his heart. You felt sympathy for his broken childhood.

You hated it, and yet, for some reason, the way he looks at you makes your heart skip today.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Touya?"

Dabi gives a teasing smirk, his gaze still glued to your body as he replies, "Because I can, sweetheart. Is there an issue?"

"No." 

You’re so confused, but you can’t deny how badly you want him. You fight the urge to move closer, but as hard as you wrestle with it, you give in, scooting inch by inch closer to him on the sofa until your hand comes to rest on his cheek. Your thighs brush together, the warmth is all so familiar.

"I've missed your touch, Touya."

Surprise flashes in his eyes at the affection, but this is what he’s wanted since he claimed you, so he's not questioning a damn thing.

"Good pet, I knew you'd like it." he praises with a smile.

He caresses your cheek as he looks at you with a lustful grin, his touch becoming more daring as he slides his other hand to your inner thigh.

"Now, I want you to make me feel good, and I think you know how."

Your breath hitches as you bite your lip anxiously, but your response is immediate.

"Yes, Touya."

The verbal obedience is enough to make his dick twitch, but when your hands come to help him undo his belt and pants, that's when he knows he’s got you right where he wants you; completely and utterly his - body, mind, and soul. There was no need for restraints, no need for force, to manipulate your body how he wanted. As much as he loved having that power over you, hearing you choke on his cock while you rested your pretty hand on his thigh instead of pushing away screaming was so much better. 

Muffled noises of your pleasure vibrate around his dick as he toys with your nipples, earning a hum of approval from your captor. Your sweet tongue swirling around the head of his cock makes his eyes roll back. He places a hand to the back of your head, gently guiding you up and down as he lets out sighs of bliss. His attention is locked on you while you take every inch of him, pubes tickling your face, his scent filling your nose as you gag for a moment before he lets you back up.

"Good fuckin' pet." He grunts, head rolled back on the couch’s back.

He fucks your mouth at a steady pace, hips thrusting upwards as your mouth slides over him. Once, twice, three times, he spurts down your throat and you swallow every drop of the salty cum with a slight cringe. Though you’re much more willing now, it doesn't make the taste any better. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, shifting on your knees as you look up at him panting softly as you catch your breath. His eyes flutter, his palm reaching to caress your cheek, a smirk coming over his face.

“So obedient, so submissive. You finally know your place.”

[callsign-joyride]

John Wayne | Chapter 1 | Rhett Abbott

Despite the mood board suggesting otherwise, my fics are size and POC inclusive.

Series masterlist | Next part

Summary: Rhett ends up in the city for a friend's wedding. You're going through a rough breakup. A meet-cute in a cafe changes both of your lives.

Every John is just the same I'm sick of their city games I crave a real wild man I'm strung out on John Wayne

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x f!reader

Content warnings: None yet

Being a journalist was fun. Tiring, but fun. Admittedly, it wasn't the best paying job. Especially for someone two years out of college, living in New York. But it was your dream job, and you ranked up fairly quickly. The summer internships and part-time jobs definitely helped you get there, but you weren't complaining. Even in the questionable apartment that you shared with someone, you were happy. 

Of course, not all good things last forever. You knew that something was off when Tyler, your boyfriend of two years, had texted you to buzz him in. 

“Hey, I'm almost done with editing. Give me a few minutes and I'm all yours,” you said as he walked in the door. The thing that was different about this situation was that he hadn't taken his shoes off by the door. It wasn't something that you or your roommate had ever stressed about, but he always took his shoes off when he came in. 

You submitted your article before closing your laptop and turning your attention toward him. The only background noise was that of the city below you. It was a particularly nice day out so you decided to work with the window slightly open. 

“I think we need to break up,” he said. It felt like time stopped. 

“Okay. Why?” You sniffled and reached for the box of tissues that were on the coffee table. There was a lump in your throat and you knew that this wasn't going to end well. 

“You’ve been so busy lately and I feel like you're kind of blowing me off. My birthday was two weeks ago and all I got from you was a text and a card.”

“With a gift card to that place in SoHo that you like so much. Two weeks ago, I had to be in D.C. for an interview. I think you might be forgetting that I have a job that, God forbid, doesn't require me to sit behind a desk for eight hours straight. I planned on taking you to that restaurant, by the way. Since I got this job, you have known that it occasionally requires travel. So you don't get to act like I'm ‘blowing you off’ when you know exactly what I do for a living. I also told you that I was going to D.C., and I know I told you because I copy and pasted that text and sent it to Rebecca-,”

“Rebecca who's in Iceland right now.”

“I don't think it matters where she is. If you're breaking up with me because I have a great job, then you can leave. I'm not going to be in a relationship with someone who isn't supportive of me and then tries to act like I'm the problem. I’ll let you know when you can pick up your stuff.”

All Tyler did in response was nod his head and leave silently. Once the door to the apartment shut, you locked it before pouring yourself a glass of wine and going to your room with your laptop. You didn't really start to cry until you called Danielle and told her about it. 

“Tomorrow is one of your work-from-home days, right?” She asked. 

“Yeah,” you managed to say through the sobs. 

“Consider going to that little cafe and doing your work there. The change of scenery might help you feel better.”

“Okay. Well now that I feel like I’ve cried what is essentially my body weight in tears, I think I'm gonna go to bed. Or at least try to.”

Danielle let out a quiet chuckle before you exchanged goodbyes and hung up the phone. You ended up taking her advice, and it helped get your mind off of things. 

It became your new “thing”, actually. It wasn't like being at the apartment on your work-from-home days was boring, but you enjoyed the environment at the cafe. Rebecca came back from Iceland about a week and a half after the breakup, and you waited a day or two before actually telling her what happened.

“That’s so ridiculous. His place isn’t even that far away! I’m so sorry. If he wanted to make it work, he would. He’s probably just jealous that you’re writing for The Times and not living in your parent’s basement.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the statement. She was right. Finding affordable housing in the city was difficult, but Tyler had a well-paying job. Maybe not well enough to live completely on his own, but well enough to move out. You had once thought about asking if he wanted to move in with you and Rebecca, but that was clearly not an option anymore.

“You don’t happen to have to work on Saturday, do you?” You asked.

“No, why?”

“I need him to come and get his stuff but I either can’t be here or I can’t be here alone when he comes by. I haven’t talked to him, but it’s not like I really want to, either.”

“I’d be happy to give him his stuff. That and then some. I kinda want to slash his tires if I’m honest.”

“That’s… Completely fair. A little irrational, but fair,” you said.

The following day was particularly gloomy. The rain had been on and off all night, with a few particularly loud rumbles of thunder waking you up. You walked into the cafe and ordered your usual before sitting down and getting to work. There were a few articles to edit and a bunch of emails to respond to. Emails that, had your boss been any different, would’ve been pointless meetings with a bunch of interns around the coffee machines. Even though you always sat facing the door, it was hard to make you lose focus. Until two guys in flannels and cowboy hats walked in. At first, you thought that you had somehow managed to drink way too much caffeine. The texts that you sent to Danielle and Rebecca didn’t help, either. Neither of them believed you until you snuck a picture of them waiting in line to order.

“Excuse me, miss? Uh, can I ask you a quick question?” One of them asked. You nodded your head and put your phone face down on the table.

“Yeah, sure,” you said.

“I’m here with my brother and we uh, we’ve never been here before. Can I ask what you’re drinking? I’m Rhett, by the way.”

You could tell that he was from out of state. None of the New York guys that you had met were ever this nice, even if it was to ask what your drink was. 

“Well, Rhett, it’s a chai latte with a shot of raspberry. I gotta warn you, though. If you don’t like sweet things, you won’t like this. It’s also not as caffeinated as coffee. Where are you from if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh, I’m from a small town in Wyoming. You’ve probably never heard of it, and please don’t laugh, but it’s called Wabang. I know.”

“That’s really funny. What brings you to New York?”

“One of my friends is getting married at the end of the week.”

“Oh, nice! Hey, I would love to sit and chat but it looks like your brother is getting antsy over there. Um, I can give you my number if you want?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Rhett handed you his phone and you quickly typed in your name and number. Your phone chimed while you got back to work. It was a text from Rhett to make sure that you had his number. You were surprised when he and his brother started walking over to your table with their drinks in hand.

“This seat taken?” He asked.

“No,” you said with a chuckle. Both of them sat in front of you and Rhett introduced you to his brother, Perry. 

“So, what did you get to drink?” You asked Rhett. 

“Uh, the chai with the raspberry. You have great taste, this is really good.”

“I’m glad that you like it. When’s the wedding?”

“Friday. We leave on Sunday, though.”

You smiled and nodded your head. This might be a bad idea. Actually, probably one of the worst ideas. His brother is right there! You’ve known him for twenty minutes! This could be an episode of Criminal Minds just waiting to happen.

“Would you maybe want to hang out on Saturday?” You asked. Rhett’s eyes widened and he quickly exchanged glances with Perry.

“Uh, yeah, sure. We’re gonna have to go in a few minutes but I’ll text you.”

You tried to suppress a giggle as you continued to talk to Rhett and Perry, and you couldn’t stop smiling. Once they left, you ordered a few pastries before getting your stuff and going back to your apartment. The day instantly felt brighter, and you were able to get the rest of your work done on the couch. Rebecca came home while you were watching an early season of Grey’s Anatomy, and you paused it before getting up and squealing.

“I’m guessing you talked to at least one of the cafe cowboys,” she said.

“Yes! His name is Rhett and he’s really cute. His brother was the other cowboy and he seemed nice, but I might’ve done something stupid.”

“Oh God, what did you do?”

“I kind of asked him out. We’re gonna get something figured out for Saturday, but I’m not even sure if it’s really a date. His brother was right there and it wouldn’t surprise me if he had a girlfriend in Wyoming.”

“Oh, so he’s a cowboy cowboy. Danielle and I thought that he was just some random guy in a costume.”

You laughed before heading to your room to plug in your phone and laptop. When you weren’t doing something important, you were texting Rhett. It was kind of surprising to you, considering that you had just met and you hadn’t really texted anyone for this long. You probably would’ve stayed up all night texting him if it wasn’t for the fact that you had to be in the office early the next morning.

It was one of the rare nights since the breakup that you were actually able to get to sleep peacefully.

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @rosesvioletshardy

[lucky-clover-gazette]

domestic bisque

fluff | 3381 words | vidow cottage au

Vio and Shadow make soup, and there's no plot. They literally just have a cozy evening together. Good for them!

They sit together for a while, watching the snow fall, silent and content. The smell of simmering soup fills the den and Pinecone continues to purr like a motor.

Shadow tucks a strand of hair behind Vio’s ear. “Love you.”

Vio leans in—not for a kiss, but simply to meet Shadow’s forehead with his own. “Love you too.”  

read it on ao3 or under the cut, with author's notes:

Author's Note: The title is a soup pun. Appreciate it.

So funny story, this used to be a much longer and more melodramatic fic that I shelved all the way back in November of 2022. It’s been sitting incomplete since then, so I finally decided to take all the fluffy soup parts and play into that, while cutting out the angst. So if this feels a little awkward and disjointed, well… that’s because it is. But still, I think it’s very sweet, and I hope you enjoy :)

It’s perfect soup weather in the woods outside Castle Town.

Snowy, but not overly so, chilling the cottage just enough to justify use of the fireplace. Shadow busies himself in the kitchen, clearing the counter of Pinecone’s canned food and spare bags of tea, and begins to unpack freshly-purchased ingredients. He smiles at the sound of Vio’s footsteps as he enters from the den.

“Found it?” Shadow asks, taking a bunch of celery stalks over to the sink for washing.

“Yes,” Vio says. “I would appreciate it if we avoided getting anything on it.”

Shadow examines the leather-bound volume from afar, well-worn from at least a century of use. He’d make fun of Vio’s concern, but he also understands how important this historical volume is—it’s one of the previous Hero’s few remaining belongings, chock-full of handwritten insight from the man himself. Vio had begged Zelda to lend it to him, and she’d only handed it over after they both promised to return it in good condition. It was a warranted measure, honestly, since the majority of Shadow and Vio’s furniture was stolen from Hyrule Castle… and that’s not even mentioning their evil root beer stash in the cellar.

It had been Shadow’s idea to make the soup, after Vio offhandedly mentioned its inclusion in the Hero’s journal entry. Most of the ingredients are still common in modern Hyrule, except for the Reekfish—luckily, according to the Hero, the soup is better off without it. And with a name like ‘Reekfish,’ Shadow is inclined to believe him.

“Do you think Pinecone will get curious with all the ingredients laying out?” Vio asks, eyeing the massive pumpkin and wheel of cheese visually similar to the horns of Ordon goats.

Shadow glances into the den at their cat, a three-legged tortie watching the snow fall through a frosted window. “Pinecone,” he calls to her, watching her ear twitch in recognition, “are you going to make trouble while we cook?”

She doesn’t answer. Shadow shrugs.

“Did you know that the Hero could talk to cats?” Vio asks Shadow, resting his elbows on the counter.

“No,” Shadow says, “but that’s very cool.”

“Once we’re done cooking, I’d like to show you some of the passages,” Vio says, avoiding eye contact. “I mean, if that’s something you’d be interested in.”

Shadow smiles. “Of course I’m interested. Looking forward to it.”

“That’s… yeah, me too. Hey, can you make fun of me now?”

Shadow crosses the kitchen and plants a kiss on Vio’s forehead. “You’re cute.”

“That is specifically the opposite of what I requested. Also, you are cute too. Obviously.”

Shadow returns to the counter with a smile and grabs a knife from the wooden block. “I’m dicing the veggies and mincing the garlic, right?”

Referencing the recipe, Vio nods. “What can I do to help?”

Shadow withdraws another knife, this one serrated and twice as long. “Feel like butchering a pumpkin?”

─────────────────

They launch into their parallel tasks in contented silence, the only noise coming from Vio as he struggles to cut into the large Ordon pumpkin. Shadow slides the diced celery into a glass bowl and takes a break to assist Vio, who has switched from the kitchen knife to his Four Sword.

“Here,” Shadow says, “I’ll hold it steady while you cut it in half, right by the stem. Then you just have to scoop out the seeds with a spoon, slice it into pieces, and roast them in the oven so they soften. Once they’re done, you should be able to squish them into a puree with a fork.”

Vio narrows his eyes. “How do you know so much about this?”

“Vendor at the market talked my ear off about it. She was sweet.”

Shadow really had appreciated the Ordonian woman’s advice, as well as the fact that she’d treated him like a normal person. It’s been a little more than six months since Shadow’s reign of terror over Hyrule, and a lot of people in Castle Town still hold a grudge. Okay, maybe not a lot, but townspeople rarely go out of their way to engage in small talk.

“I’ll preheat the oven,” Shadow says as Vio begins to gut the pumpkin. He turns the dial and returns to his counter, making short work of the remaining ingredients.

“Pinecone, no!”

Shadow whips his head around as Vio begs their cat to get off the counter, his hands covered with orange pumpkin guts. “Shadow, can you please stop laughing and pick her up?”

Shadow retrieves Pinecone with a chuckle, kissing her forehead and returning her to the stool by the den window. She curls up and Shadow has the strong urge to sink his face into her soft fur.

“Pumpkin’s going into the oven,” Vio calls from the kitchen. “I’ll clean up the mess before we continue.”

“Sounds good,” Shadow says, giving Pinecone another peck (there is no limit to forehead kisses in this household). He consults the journal, placed far from the carnage, and commits their next steps to memory.

“We can start the soup while the pumpkin roasts,” he says to Vio, who furiously scrubs his hands in the sink. He has his hair up again, in that lame purple scrunchie, a few stray bangs falling into his face. Shadow feels the urge to tuck them behind his pointed ears, but there are more pressing matters at hand.

─────────────────

When Shadow and Vio first moved into the abandoned cottage, their friends had insisted on a small housewarming party. Some of their gifts are useful on a daily basis, such as Red’s hand-knitted blanket and Zelda’s fountain pens, while others are bound to a more specific purpose. A great example is a yet-to-be-used artisanal casserole dish from Green, which is shaped and painted to resemble a pumpkin.

Shadow removes the heavy vessel from a shelf and gently places it on the counter. “I wonder,” he says, “if somehow the Hero of Twilight’s spirit influenced Green to choose this gift. Since he apparently had a thing for pumpkin soup.”

Vio joins Shadow’s side, sizing up the dish. “Interestingly enough, he’s not the only one. Records indicate that several versions of the Hero have encountered pumpkin soup during their adventures.”

“You’re kidding.”

“The Hero of Winds grew up on Outset Island, where the locals made pumpkin soup that healed his injuries. Some sources even say his own grandmother created the recipe.”

“I see. And have there been any other heroic pumpkin soup encounters of note?”

“Yes,” Vio enthuses, “with the first reincarnation of Link, actually. He lived in the sky and flew on a huge bird. In order to save his version of Zelda, he had to deliver pumpkin soup to a whale inside a thunderhead.”

“Very normal,” Shadow remarks, one eyebrow raised.

Vio smirks. “About as normal as a magic sword turning the Hero into four distinct individuals, one of whom fell madly in love with the original Hero’s evil shadow.”

“You know that makes you sound like the weirdo in that situation, right?”

“Like you weren’t hitting on me from the start.”

─────────────────

Shadow busies himself with the soup, placing the casserole dish on the stovetop and grabbing a stick of butter from the fridge. He slices off two tablespoons and melts them against the warming vessel, then empties the glass bowls of prepped celery, carrots, and onions into the dish. They sizzle on contact.

“Wooden spoon, please,” he calls to Vio, who promptly places the instrument in his outstretched hand. He uses it to saute the veggies while Vio removes the sheet pan of softened pumpkin from the oven, pureeing it just as Shadow had described. Shadow tosses in the garlic as Vio begins to clean their prep dishes.

“Wanna pop open some vegetable broth?” Shadow asks once he hears the sink turn off. He receives no response and turns his head to see Vio kneeling by Pinecone in the den. Shadow opens the carton of broth on his own and pours it into the dish, taking care not to let it splash in his face.

“Soup has to simmer for ten minutes,” Shadow calls to Vio, bringing the Hero’s journal into the den. He plops down on the floor, because wherever Pinecone decides to be is more often than not where they end up. He nudges Vio and drops the book in his lap. “Show me something interesting.”

Vio gives Pinecone one last full-body pet and nods. “Very well. How much do you know about the Hero of Twilight?”

Shadow shrugs. “Nothing more than what you’ve told me.”

“And what have I told you, exactly?”

“He talked to cats, didn’t use the Four Sword, killed another version of Ganon but missed out on fun times with Vaati.”

Vio scoffs. “Yeah, well, he got Zant.”

“That’s a cool name. What was his deal?”

Vio begins to flip through pages, narrowing his eyes as he scans the text. “Ah-ha!” he exclaims, and it’s so unbelievably dorky that Shadow kind of wants to kiss him on the mouth. “He talks about Zant here,” Vio says, angling the page so Shadow can read.

A note on Zant, usurper king of the Twili tribe: For the majority of my journey, I believed him to be the greatest threat to Hyrule, the final enemy I would need to defeat. But Zant had only served as a proxy for Ganon, who allowed him passage through a dark mirror to wreak havoc on the world of the light.

Shadow makes a sour face. “Wonder what that’s like.”

“Keep reading,” Vio says with a small smile.

Imagine my surprise when Zant became frantic and unhinged in battle, the opposite of the imposing figure I had once believed him to be. Perhaps his initial stature had been an act, disguising the instability and insecurity within.

Stranger still, Zant somehow managed to linger despite a very graphic death. It’s almost as if his spirit couldn’t die, not truly, until he thwarted his former master. Princess Zelda and I defeated Ganondorf, fulfilling Hylia’s Triforce prophecy—but somehow, Zant struck the killing blow. He banished Ganon from the world of light by violently severing the connection between them.

“Huh,” Shadow remarks, his voice now proud. “Wonder what that’s like.”

─────────────────

Eventually, Vio appears to remember something important. “Has it been ten minutes, for the soup?”

“Just about,” Shadow says, getting to his feet. “Be right back.”

Shadow returns to the kitchen and adds the pumpkin puree, along with a dash of cinnamon, to the simmering mixture. The beige broth becomes a warm amber before his eyes, already starting to bubble with the new ingredients.

“That smells fantastic,” Vio says, peering over Shadow’s shoulder. He wraps his arms around Shadow’s waist, and sandwiched between a simmering pumpkin soup and his favorite person in the world, Shadow feels truly blessed. And then he cringes, because they’re supposed to be creatures of darkness, so why would he default to such a disgustingly wholesome adjective as ‘blessed?’

“About fifteen more minutes,” Shadow says, and Vio hums. “You could have stayed in the den, you know.”

“Missed you. And I want to help clean, you’re doing all the hard work here.”

“Well, I’m not going to argue with that.”

They finish the remaining dishes together, Vio washing while Shadow dries and puts items away. The soup fills their tiny kitchen with the aroma of pumpkin and warm cinnamon spice.

Shadow returns to the stove, stirs the soup with a wooden spoon, and covers it again. “Let’s keep it simmering a little longer.”

Vio nods and leads Shadow back into the den. He retrieves the journal and plops down on the couch, where Pinecone seems to have been waiting for his arrival. She immediately curls up in his lap and Shadow isn’t jealous at all, definitely not, because that would be ridiculous and he is not ridiculous.

“What are you waiting for?” Vio asks, stroking Pinecone idly. “Get comfy.”

“Didn’t think that word was in your vocabulary,” Shadow quips, settling beside the pair and resting his head on Vio’s shoulder. He breathes in the familiar scent of lavender shampoo, and wonders if Vio has just the one purple scrunchie, or if he rotates identical purple scrunchies every few days…

“Looks like you’re thinking hard about something,” Vio observes, reaching an arm around Shadow’s waist.

“Nope, not me.”

─────────────────

“And that’s it,” Vio says, closing the journal. “For tonight, anyway. I think I’ve had just about enough.”

Shadow nods. “Sucks about the mirror, and what happened with Midna. They seemed to really get along. Do you think they ever saw each other again?”

“Probably not,” Vio admits. “Not everyone is willing to perform dark rituals to recover a loved one from a different realm.”

“Lame.”

─────────────────

They sit together for a while, watching the snow fall, silent and content. The smell of simmering soup fills the den, and Pinecone continues to purr like a motor.

Shadow tucks a strand of hair behind Vio’s ear. “Love you.”

Vio leans in—not for a kiss, but simply to meet Shadow’s forehead with his own. “Love you too.”  

And then Shadow pulls away.

“Soup,” he reminds Vio, standing up. “Bring the recipe, I think it’s cheese time.”

Vio is sleepy, beyond relaxed, and it’s adorable. “You’re cheese time.”

Shadow raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“I have no idea why I said that.”

Shadow chuckles and returns to the kitchen, releasing steam when he removes the casserole dish lid. “Looks good,” he reports. “Now, tell me all about cheese time.”

Vio cringes. “Please shut up about cheese time.”

“No.”

“Actually,” Vio says as he scans the page, “it’s not even… time for cheese… yet.”

“Tease.”

─────────────────

“Do we have a blender?” Vio asks, already opening up kitchen cabinets. “Or a food processor?”

Shadow cocks his head. “Did they, back then?”

“That’s what he wrote. Oh, here!”

Vio removes their blender from the cabinet and places it onto the counter. Shadow shakes his head.

“Bad idea. Hot liquid will make the lid stick. Use the immersion blender instead.”

Vio narrows his eyes. “What is that?”

Shadow removes the handheld wand from a drawer and raises it in the air for emphasis. There are blades at the end, and when Shadow presses a button they come to life.

“Not all of us have swords,” Shadow quips as he plunges it into the pot of soup, turning it into a smooth orange bisque. Some of the mixture splashes onto his face, right by his mouth, and he allows himself a taste.

“Hylia,” he mutters, tossing the immersion blender into the sink. Shadow opens the fridge and retrieves their final ingredient, turning to Vio with a wolfish grin. “Cheese time.”

─────────────────

As the soup simmers over low heat, Shadow stirs in the soft cheese and melts a dusting of brown sugar into the bisque.

“You can do the salt and pepper,” Shadow tells Vio, grabbing him by the waist and positioning him in front of the stove.

Vio nods uncertainly as Shadow forces the shakers into his hands. “This much?” he asks, seasoning the soup with great hesitation.

“Looks good to me,” Shadow says, resting his head on Vio’s shoulder. “Smells good, too.”

“Yeah. I can’t wait to try it.”

Shadow dislodges himself from his boyfriend and grabs two bowls and spoons from the cabinet. He brings them over and repositions Vio, reaching across the range for a ladle and beginning to serve the Hero of Twilight’s beloved pumpkin soup. He garnishes the two bowls with the remaining goat cheese and places the lid on the casserole dish—he’ll package up the rest later, maybe even deliver it to Green and Zelda as a thank-you.

“Couch or table?” Shadow asks, although he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer.

“Couch, please.”

─────────────────

It’s precarious with the soup bowls, but they manage to arrange themselves nicely on the couch. Pinecone has resumed watching the snow fall by the window, and for once they prefer that she keeps her distance. Vio and Shadow both sit upright as they dig in, and… wow. Shadow had sampled the soup before, but this? With the cheese and everything? It’s fantastic. 

“What do you think?” Shadow asks Vio, whose spoon currently lingers in his mouth. Vio nods intently with a decadent noise of approval.

“It’s perfect,” he says. “Legendary, even.”

“Glad to hear we did the recipe justice, from the mouth of the Hero himself. Well, a few reincarnations removed, but you know what I mean.”

Vio sighs. “I think he’d be happy. Seeing us, like this. I don’t know, maybe that’s just what I want to believe, but—”

“I think it’s a wonderful thing to believe,” Shadow says, placing his bowl down on the coffee table. Maybe his soup will get cold, but the idea of holding Vio in this moment is too tempting to pass up. 

Vio leans into Shadow’s arms and hums. “This is so nice. Thank you for getting the ingredients, and doing most of the work.”

Shadow grins and kisses Vio’s forehead (seriously, it never gets old). “How about you do the dishes and we’ll call it even.”

Vio rolls his eyes but nods. “I should have seen that coming. You’re so evil.”

“The evilest. What atrocity will I commit next?”

Vio’s gaze meets his, and the blonde puts down his soup. Shadow recognizes the expression immediately—slightly lowered eyelids, a mischievous grin. Internally, Shadow has taken to calling it Vio’s Throne Eyes. Because, y’know, reasons.

“I’d love to find out,” Vio nearly purrs, and Shadow pretends to be annoyed.

“You’re just trying to get out of doing the dishes.”

Vio frowns, his eyes darting towards the kitchen. “You know what? You’re right. I think I’ll go do them now.”

He begins to move but Shadow’s grip only tightens. “Wait, don’t—”

Vio grins, and Shadow blushes. “You were saying?”

“You’re the worst,” Shadow chuckles, rubbing his hands over Vio’s back. In the absence of a soup bowl, Vio climbs onto his lap. Shadow kicks the coffee table slightly aside, displacing a bit of soup onto the wooden surface.

On his way to a forehead bonk (or kiss, dealer’s choice), Vio pauses, glancing over Shadow’s shoulder. “Hold on.”

“Um. Are you still joking, or…?”

Vio shakes his head. “Garlic and onion, in the soup. Pinecone could get sick.”

Shadow desperately scans their surroundings for anything that could keep them where they are. They could put the journal over one of the bowls, kind of like an impromptu lid… but if it got damaged Zelda would probably banish them, especially if said damage occurred while they were making out.

Vio sighs and removes himself from Shadow’s lap, picking up both bowls from the table with an apologetic smile. “Be right back,” he says, and Shadow does not move a muscle.

“Make sure the pot’s covered, too,” Shadow calls out, and Vio cradles both bowls with one arm to raise a thumbs-up.

In his partner’s absence, Shadow turns to Pinecone, still peacefully watching the snow fall. “You have no idea what we do for you,” he mutters fondly. The cat’s ear twitches.

─────────────────

From the kitchen, Shadow hears running water and the clink of dishware. Despite his protests, Vio is still doing what Shadow had asked.

Shadow considers picking up the journal in Vio’s absence, but decides against it. He would never say this out loud, but he doesn’t really care about the Hero of Twilight’s life. He understands why Vio does, though, and supports that interest wholeheartedly—he’s been told about Vio’s long nights in Hyrule Castle, researching resurrection rituals with only the company of the Hero’s writings.

And maybe, wherever he is now, the Hero has witnessed Vio repair the mirror and recall Shadow from his dark realm. Shadow knows their situations aren’t identical—namely, Midna chose to separate herself from the Hero due to royal responsibility (boring), while Shadow had broken his own mirror in a self-sacrificial middle-finger to the concept of darkness itself (badass).

But, still. The parallels are there. And Shadow doesn’t see the harm in Vio indulging them, as long as it makes him happy. But Shadow’s not here to dwell on the past—he’s here to eat pumpkin soup, and to kiss his boyfriend.

And you know what?

He is all out of pumpkin soup.

Author's Note: Someday I will actually let them make out in a fic. I’ve written it before, but it always comes out quippy and awkward and painfully self-aware. Which, hey—at least I’m consistent. I am considering an optional side-scene to an upcoming fic where they actually do, in fact, get to make out on the page, so please let me know if that’s something you actually want to see. 

Thanks for reading, and if you’re going to play Tears of the Kingdom in a few days like me, have so much fun!

[gauntletqueen]

Despite fear of asking something you probably already explained, do you have any insights as to the creation of queen the fennec? Such as why a fennec or the inclusion of dusty etc? Other than a love of Sonic that part seems pretty self explanatory

That's okay even if I had! Which I have on stream, so a written account is still useful! Buckle up I am going to write too much, as usual

Why a Sonic character? I wanted a Sonic OC model because there's a lot of official Sonic games, Sonic fan games and Sonic-inspired games that I want to cover, since as you say I love the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise!

Why a fennec fox? I knew that if I were to ever make a furry or mammal-eared alt, it'd be a fennec! Foxes are a staple in my family, and I feel they fit me quite well. They make lots of silly noises and show their excitement very physically. They're generally fun and cute but charismatic as well (though I'm probably more fun n cute than I am charismatic) However! Red foxes are fairly solitary, which is NOT like me, i looove my friends I looove spending time with my friends and family!!! SO I went with Fennec Fox instead! They share most of the traits I listed BUT live in groups :>

Why Dusty? I like to make all the hypothetical boss fights of the alts be based on specific types of boss fights you can encounter in real games. The idea I had for Fennec was that it'd be a duo you fight at the same time! At first she would just have a special badnik accompanying her, but I realised it'd be a fun subversion if a small animal piloted the robot rather than serve as its energy source. From then on I pretty much instantly decided that the animal would be based on Dusty, a real pet rabbit I used to have and whom I loved dearly. Giving Fennec and him such a close friendship felt like a wonderful way to honor my favorite pet :> He was a holland lop, with big droopy ears, brown fur and black markings, which are traits directly translated to the 3D model version of him! He was also incredibly fearless so it works well!

Queen the Fennec's design In the narrative of her game, Queen the Fennec and Dusty willingly aligned themselves with Eggman, which is different from all my other Vtuber models so far, who all either act from a sense of right, or are unbiased. As such, I wanted her to look a little more antagonistic. She wears a black dress, her gauntlets are made by Eggman and have an appropriate coloration that's not as Fun And Quirky as, say Gauntlet Queen's pink and white gauntlets. Her eyes are also a bit sinister (though not to the point of looking truly evil.) Also, she has a cool scar above her right eye! This helps cement her as an Edgy, Dangerous Rival Character which is a Sonic series staple. it's also because I have a scar above my right eye in real life, all the queens are caricatures of me after all :> I offset all this Dark and Moody stuff by making her a pathetic little mew mew though so it's okay 👍

[childrenslitbookreviews]

The Family Book

Title 14: The Family Book

Genre: Children’s Picture Book, Banned Book

Target Age Group: 2-4 years

Summary:

The Family book says how some families are alike - they love hugs and celebrating each other. It also says how some families are alike - some have one parent and others have two mothers. But all families are valid in this book.

Justification: 

I was looking for a banned children’s book and this surprised me because I have it on my bookmobile and hadn’t even considered that someone could take umbrage with it. I decided to check it out for myself to perform and impromptu book challenge review. 

Evaluation:

First, this book seems like it was banned because of one page that says that some families have two moms or two dads. This innocuous statement may be something that a person may find objectionable, but nothing so crazy as to merit banning from public libraries or school libraries. There is nothing false or untrue about the statement, nor is there any illustration one could reasonably deem inappropriate.

Second, the illustrations are very cute and simple. With bold outlines, the drawings look like they could have been drawn in Microsoft Paint. I believe that the strong contrast between primary colors that are used has been found to be helpful for young readers to distinguish between characters. Similar to Mo Willems’ Elephant and Piggie series, there are no backgrounds, shadows, or textures drawn. This is also helpful for young readers to focus on the characters and distinguish them from the single color background colors on each page.

Third, the message behind the book is very inclusive and wholesome. All families are valid. What defines a family in the book, what all families have in common, according to the book, is that they love hugs, mourn lost loved ones, celebrate special days together, and they can help each other be strong. I love the message that everything else besides love is extraneous to being a family - color, proximity, looks, diet, noise, cleanliness, and more.

References:

Parr, T. (2003). The Family Book. (T. Parr, Illus.). Hachette Book Group. 

[sugars-fluffy-escapes]

A Giggle-Filled Wash Day

Peter3 x Black!reader

SFW; complete and utter fluff, romantic and cute

Words: 2507

Summary: Peter loves watching Y/N do their hair, and dedicated lots of time to learning about what their hair care routine entails. One morning, Y/N lets him help them on wash day, and finds themself dealing with a mischievous (but very helpful) tickle monster of a boyfriend

Warnings: Just a whole lot of adorable tickle monster Peter Parker and some silly flirting

DISCLAIMER: Not every person with natural hair has the same wash day routine (I'm still very much figuring out mine) But I wanted to make a fic that as many Black readers in the t-word community as possible could enjoy. (Also, just in general for all my fics, if I write about reader blushing, it's written without color description (like pink or red etc. You'll see it described in other ways that are more inclusive) Your crown is yours, rock it however you want to, lovelies!

Note: "F/S" in this fic stands for favorite song

Y/N stirred in their sleep, a small groan leaving their lips as their legs curled closer to their body. The faint noise of their own name reached their ears, but they didn't wake up just yet. A soft sigh was emitted by their boyfriend, who then sat back and chuckled, his mind alight with an idea. Ever so slowly, Peter moved closer, the bed sinking down a bit more beside his sleeping significant other.

"Wake up, buuug~" He sang softly, hovering his hand mischievously over their torso. When they remained as deep in slumber as they already were, Peter began lightly poking at their belly, grinning over Y/N's lips curling into a sleepy smile in an instant. He continued poking them, and soon enough, they were giggling, eyes still closed. "Buuuuuug."

Still no response aside from the sleepy giggles.

"Alright. Guess we're going all in with the wake up tickles."

He leaned over them and began to spider his fingers up both of their sides. Y/N's eyes fluttered open with a squeal. "WAHAHAAA! Peheheheheterrrr! Whahahat thehehehe hehehellll!?"

"Wakey wakey~!" Peter was beaming as his partner looked up at him, the corners of their eyes wrinkled with mirth. He was completely and utterly in love; and the meanest tickler ever. "This is a wake up message from your tickle monster alarm clock!"

"Wehehell IhIhI'm prehehehessing thehehe snoohooze buhuhUHUTTONNNNNN! PEHEHEHETER PAHAHARKERRRRRRR!"

The early morning rays of the sun were rather fitting in such a giggle-filled moment. All of the little dust particles seemed to be dancing in the warm beams. Y/N shrieked when Peter massaged circles into their hips with his thumbs. "Uh oh~ The tickle monster alarm clock doesn't have a snooze button~"

"DohoHON'T dohoho the vohohoiiiice! Noho!" It never failed to give Y/N butterflies when Peter spoke cutely with pouty lips. They were making no attempt to stop their boyfriend's playful ambush, however.

"Oh I'm gonna do the voice~"

With a chuckle, Peter leaned down and pressed kisses on his laughing partner's face and ears, both of which were warm with heat from his playful teasing and affection. Y/N just seemed to glow whenever they laughed, and he was absolutely captivated by it. They hid their face in his shirt as they grew more flustered, too timid to look at him.

"Aww~ Is the voice making you shy~? Good. Youhou're just so cute~!"

"Quihihit pehehehesteheherihihing meheheee!"

"Nuh-uh. Nope. Sorry. I love you. I gotta pester you with my love~"

"Stahahap dohohoing the vohohoiiiice!"

"If you don't want me to do the voice, then you gotta. get. up!" He emphasized each word with pokes to his partner's ribs, amused by how they jolted and squeaked in time with his tickling.

"Whyhyhyhyyyy!?"

"Because..." Peter stopped the tickling and leaned closer with a warm smile. "It's wash day!"

Y/N would be lying if they said their heart wasn't fluttering like mad at Peter's declaration. He was right. It was indeed the day of the week they designated as wash day for their natural hair. Their giggles subsided as their boyfriend relented, and they grinned, reaching up with their hands and guiding his face down to theirs, nuzzling their nose with his.

"You always remember wash day~"

"I'm always gonna remember. You're my whole world, Y/N. I'm crazy about you."

"Peter Benjamin Parker, you are an absolute angel, you know that? I love you." Y/N hummed, letting out a giggle when Peter carefully fixed their bonnet, which had become slightly askew from squirming with laughter. They gave him a quick peck on the lips, moving to get out of bed, when they were suddenly scooped up into Peter's arms with a shriek.

"I gotcha, bug~ Where to first?"

After Y/N had wrapped their arms around his shoulders, they looked up at him curiously. "You wanna make breakfast together?"

"Oh my God, of course I do! Yes! Breakfast! Let's." Even the most mundane tasks had Peter so excited when he got to do them with Y/N. With a giggle, Y/N kissed his cheek.

"Ahalright, spider-boo~"

That nickname caused Peter's cheeks, ears, and nose to be dusted over with a blush. He laughed timidly as he carried them into the apartment's kitchen. Making breakfast went smoothly, save for the occasional distracting kisses and dance break when "F/S" started playing on the radio.

Y/N shrieked with laughter as Peter's hands playfully pinched their hips, turning around and letting out a scream when they were suddenly dipped, his arms secure around their waist and shoulder blades. As dorky as their Peter Parker could be, damn, was he ever suave sometimes.

"Hey, good looking~"

"Hihi, honey-bun." His significant other hummed when his lips met theirs in a sweet kiss before he nuzzled his nose on their neck. "Hmph- Peheheter, PEHEHEHETER!"

"Whaaaat?" Peter whined with feigned confusion. "Whyhy are you laughing? Hm? And why is that laugh so effing cute?"

"Youhouhou knohow dahamn wehell ihit's youhour stuhUHUHUBBLE!!!"

Peter did know damn well. He was grinning from ear to ear. With one final kiss to their lips, he lifted them back up so the two could finally have breakfast. The two sat close to one another, Y/N's legs resting sideways across Peter's lap. The sounds of the ever-busy city echoed in the streets below and traveled up to the slightly ajar kitchen window.

"Have you, uh, picked a protective style...? F-For your hair I mean? Like how you did cornrows last week?"

"Mhm," Y/N answered with a warm smile, taking a bite of their food. "You remember the two strand twists?"

Peter's eyes were bright with adoration as he thought back to his partner rocking that hairstyle a month earlier. "Yeah! I do. You looked incredible. N-Not that you don't right now! You always look incredible, bug." That adorable shyness of his made Y/N want to shower his face with kisses.

"Thahank you, Peter." They giggled as they reached up and placed a hand on the side of his face affectionately. "My handsome man~"

"B-Bug..." There was that cute blush of his again. He glanced away, unable to handle how lovingly his partner was looking at him. "Stohop that. No. You- You can't just look at me like that..."

"Youhou fluster me all the time! It's only fair I fluster you back~!"

"Dohon't make me tickle you to the floor," Peter warned, his fingers brushing over the skin on their thigh, right above their knee. Had his hand not been there, Y/N most definitely would have slammed their leg up against the table out of sheer reflex. They'd let out a loud squeak, pointing at him with a warning of their own.

"Youhou wouldn't."

"Oh yes I would, giggle-bug~ You know I would~" He slowly wiggled his fingers right at their sides with a smirk, but as Y/N squeaked and braced for the return of their personal tickle monster, a loud crash, followed by a scream, could be heard from several blocks away.

Both of their smiles dropped, and they looked at each other, before glancing to the window. The city needed Spider-Man in that moment. Peter turned back, his expression apologetic. Y/N wasn't about to hear him talk negatively about himself and quickly interrupted. He had opened his lips to speak, but Y/N placed a finger to them to shush the self criticism they knew he was about to utter. "No apologies, Peter. You understand? None. The city needs you."

"I promise, I'll be back by the time you're deep conditioning." Peter was pulled into a loving kiss, after which, he rested his forehead against theirs.

"I'll be right here, okay, spider-boo?"

"Yeah. I'll see you real soon. I love you."

"I love you too."

***

Just as Peter promised, he was indeed back by the time Y/N was deep conditioning their hair. He leaned on the bathroom doorframe, lovestruck with a soft simper on his lips. "Hi~ Your, uh, your spider-boo is home~"

Y/N turned around, beaming proudly at their boyfriend, while silently thanking the universe for bringing their Spider-Man home safely again. They beckoned him over, and without hesitation, he was in their arms, embracing them tightly. He couldn't help the way his eyes grew a bit glassy when Y/N tenderly placed their hands on the sides of his face, scanning his skin for any injuries.

"Are you alright?"

"Peachy," Peter answered with sincerity and a rapid nod of his head.

"You're not hurt?"

"Not one bit."

"Peter Benjamin Parker, if you're lying to me-"

"Baby-bug, I prohomise, I'm okay," Peter insisted with a chuckle. "I'm even better now that I'm back here with you."

He gently turned his partner around and walked them back to the mirror, resting his chin on their shoulder. Y/N felt the familiar sensation of Peter's fingers tracing over their sides, which made their breath hitch in their throat. "Peter."

"Yeah~?"

"Don't you dare."

"I'm only picking up where I left off," Peter argued softly, kissing their shoulder and laughing as he moved his hands up and began gently clawing at their ribs.

"GAHAAAAH! PEHEHEHETER PAHAHAHARKERRRRRR!" Y/N was screeching, legs growing weak from the way the tickling sensations crept from their ribs all the way to their spine.

Peter was chuckling to himself. "You know, while I was out there, I stopped a car thief. Not the first time either. This guy though, he put up quite the fight... Anyway, I uh, I'm getting sidetracked. The entire time I was fighting him, I just kept thinking about how I couldn't wait to come back here and tickle the hell outta you."

Y/N could feel their ears growing near scorching hot from those words. This man. Every time he vocalized just how much he liked tickling them, or how much he wanted to tickle them, their face would ignite with warmth. Their ears always tingled and they could physically feel the blood rush in their cheeks.

"Does it really tickle that much, bugaboo?"

"YehEHEHEHESSS!" Y/N whined.

"Good. I love your laugh," Peter muttered, that pouty tone returning as he nuzzled their neck. When he heard the timer on Y/N's phone ring, he stopped his attack, allowing them to catch their breath before gave them a rather exaggerated smooch on the cheek and let them go. "Ahalright, I'll leave you be so you can rinse your hair. I'm gonna get out of this suit."

"Youhou better get your cute butt back here when you're changed."

"IhI will. My cute butt will be back here." He peered his head back through the door with the silliest little grin. "Your cute butt better still be in here so I can continue snuggling you."

"My cute butt will still be here."

Peter giggled, disappearing from the doorway as Y/N grabbed their designated hair drying t-shirt and held it with their legs while they turned on the cold water. The icy liquid hit their scalp and sent chills down their spine, skin dotted with goosebumps from the sensation. As soon as they'd rinsed the deep conditioner out, they carefully ran their hands over their head to draw out the excess water. When Peter returned, they were wrapping their hair in the t-shirt.

"My cute butt has returned."

"And my cute butt is happy you have." Y/N hummed and turned around, giving Peter a kiss and hugging him tightly, inhaling the comforting scent of his shirt. "I'm really glad you're okay, Peter."

"I'm not going anywhere, bug."

Once Y/N's hair was sufficiently dry, but not completely dry, they began to take out the products for styling their hair. Peter was as helpful as he could be in grabbing other items his partner needed, though it was a bit funny to see him take out the wrong container on occasion.

"This isn't twisting cream?"

"Noho," Y/N giggled. "Thahat's mahango butter."

"Ohoops. Sorry, baby-bug." Peter looked again, spotting the correct container and handing setting it on the bathroom counter.

"Thank you, honey-bun."

He watched with admiration as his partner seemed to effortlessly part their hair with the bottom end of the rat tail comb. "You do that like magic, you know that?"

"Lots and lots of practice." Y/N kissed his cheek before clipping the separated pieces. "You get used to it."

Y/N bit their lip as they pondered something silently. Of course, Peter noticed they had become lost in their thoughts, and tilted his head curiously.

"What's on your mind?"

With a deep breath, his partner responded. "I was... I was wondering. Would you like to learn how to two strand twist?"

Peter was a bit taken aback by the question, not because he didn't like the idea, but because he hadn't expected it. "I-I... uh... Are you sure? I mean I-I'd... I'd love to, but, is it okay with you? For me to..."

"Peter, I'm offering. It's okay." Their firm reassurance had Peter feeling a little more comfortable, and with a timid smile, he moved closer.

"Alright, bug. Please teach me."

Y/N walked him through the preparation steps, before handing him the section of hair they'd parted. Their eyes remained glued to Peter's face of concentration, as he carefully and meticulously repeated the movements that his partner had shown him. Although he was twisting at a turtle's pace, his gentleness did not go unnoticed.

"You can twist a little faster, Peter. It's okay."

"I just wanna be careful," Peter said softly. "You, uh, I remember you telling me once that you can get tender-headed. I-I don't exactly know how it plays in but I didn't want to cause you any pain."

"That's a good thing to keep in mind," Y/N relented, watching as Peter finished the twist and stepped back a little.

"How did I do?"

As Y/N studied the twist in the mirror, their smile grew. "You did great, Peter." They giggled at his heavy sigh of relief.

He didn't twist anymore than one section, but he supported Y/N the rest of the way. As the two sat in the living room, Y/N prepared to open the bottle of oil so they could massage their scalp.

"Y/N...?"

"Hm?"

"May I?" Peter gestured to the oil with a small nod of his head. "I want to make up for being gone most of breakfast."

After a few seconds, Y/N opened the bottle, guiding Peter to hold out his hands. "Slow circles."

"Got it."

"H-Hehey! P-Peheheter! Wahahatch the ehehehears!"

"You really are ticklish everywhere."

Wash days were a process, but Y/N could always count on their boyfriend to be entertaining, to distract them in the most adorable ways, to be curious but willing to learn, and of course, they could always count on him to be the tickle monster he was.

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

ABSKNSKDJF T-T 🤎 This was self indulgent AF and I regret nothing. I hope my fellow Black t-fic readers enjoyed this. I tried to make it evident that any time Peter interacted with reader's hair, it was done so because reader gave him permission to. Not everyone with natural hair is going to be alright with it and their boundaries should ALWAYS be respected. Always. Period. Until next time, lovelies!

[buckybarnesdiaries]

white wolf: “the show must go on”

first part — second part

third part — fourth part (soon)

© gif credits to the author, i found it on google. if you're the author lemme know your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Sam helps Bucky to ask you out for a date and it’s a disaster, but he gets it.

word count: 1'9k.

warnings/tags: none. bucky being so innocent gives me life. + he being so damn cute as always.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Have plans with your girl tonight?”

Bucky clicked his tongue, putting down the weight to the holder, not turning to Sam still doing squats and an awkward noise out of breath. His partner couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and giggle while shaking his head, fast enough to steal the soldier's clean towel before he reached it.

“She's not my girl”.

“Not yet, you mean, uh?” He joked then, using the clothing like a whip to hit the metal arm. “But, you have plans or not?”

“Yeah, we have plans”. Bucky admitted eventually, glancing at Sam also stealing his bottle of water. “She invited me to watch a movie”.

It was the innocent and unworried tone of voice from him that made Sam choke, cough, and laugh at once.

“What?”

“Oh, man… Can't believe you're sinful enough to do what we do but too innocent to not see what that means”.

“It means we're gonna watch a movie”.

Bucky was confused at the laughter, trying to understand what he was referring to as he rested his back against the wall and crossed both arms over his chest. Expecting anything else from his wise friend.

“This is the twenty-first century, you ancient. We don't watch movies”.

“What d— What do you mean? You have Netflix, HBO, Prime Video… What's the point?”

Sam was deadpanned, staring in silence at the soldier, not believing what his ears were hearing. “We, guys, don't watch movies with girls, even less when they are the ones inviting us”.

Bucky squinted at him, tilting his head like a lost poppy would do, not being able to read between lines. His partner gasped exasperated, running a hand up and down his face.

“You know, man? Sometimes I feel alone, not having anyone to laugh with about that forties' manners of yours. Should I call Sarah, maybe?”

“Cut the show”. He hissed standing up and passing him away.

“Oh, no, no, no… the show has just started, man, and I have my popcorn ready”.

Bucky had been beating around the bush the whole day, trying to let it out of his mind. Of course, it was something that would happen sooner or later, and —more than of course— he wanted it to happen. The mere fact of thinking about you and him, flesh against flesh, hearing you moaning his name and making you feel good caused him goosebumps and an awkward sensation beneath his black jeans. Suddenly, swallowing saliva turned impossible, biting his lower lip while ringing the intercom of your apartment. Your response didn't last more than a couple of seconds, opening the door downstairs and waiting for him at the entrance of your apartment.

The butterflies fluttered within your bellies when Bucky stepped out of the lift, showing you that charming smile that could make you kill anyone who dared to erase it from his face.

“Trying to get me drunk?” You joked as he raised the bottle of red wine in his left hand.

“Maybe?”

“Missed you today”. You whispered at the soft kiss on your lips and his arm getting wrapped around your lower waist.

“So did I”. He sighed, sounding a little tired, caressing your nose with his.

Yesterday he talked to you about a routine medical check-up the government used to do every six months until he earned his pardon. Four hours of intense exercise to make sure the supersoldier serum was still doing its effect, as he started to feel somewhat tired since he stayed in Wakanda. For Bucky, it was really easy to open up himself with you and talk about his past and some of the things he did. And he didn't complain when you helped him to take off his leather jacket, watching him rubbing his left shoulder.

“I, uh… also was this morning with Sam. Training”. He told you, following you to your kitchen to find a couple of glasses. Turning at him, you couldn't help but raise an incredulous eyebrow. “Don't look at me like that… I know to perfection what you're thinking”.

“You're a telepath now?”

“God, no. I have enough with the voices inside my head, to hear someone's else”. He chuckled resting against the fridge. “But you're very expressive and I was trained to read body language”.

“So, what am' thinking?” You asked driven by curiosity, entertained on opening the bottle of wine.

“Look at this guy… He looks hotter than a barbecue”.

You broke into a loud laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed the drink and the glasses. “Not even close, Sergeant”.

“Liar”. He blurted into your face, passing him away to the living room where the Thai takeaway was waiting for the two of you.

“I'm not lying! You're a lousy body reader”.

“So… you can do it better, uh?”

“Didn't say so, but… yeah”. You replied, placing the wine and the glasses on the coffee table next to the big green sofa.

“Okay, go ahead. What am 'thinking, genius?”

Standing in front of him, some inches away, you squinted at his eyes in advance of touring his posture from top to bottom with your orbs.

“Look at that girl… she's hotter than a volcano”.

“Not even closer, soldier”. Bucky repeated your words, kissing his teeth and causing you to laugh again.

“Liar”.

The night went on, enjoying your dinner and watching the first part of Scary Movie. Since Bucky told you that he loved the horror genre, you thought that it'd be a good start. As you finished the Thai dishes, you two cuddled on your sofa, and it felt nice to be embraced by his muscly arms and had your head rested on his shoulder. He had never been that happier before, imagining for a moment —staring at you by the corner of his eyes— that he wasn't a retired lethal assassin controlled by a bunch of psychos, just a guy watching a movie with his girl.

For some reason that increased his pulse, having to clear his throat as the thought dried it. You couldn't let it go, wrinkling your nose with curiosity, raising your face slightly at Bucky trying to focus on the movie, and pretending everything was going okay.

“What?” He murmured about to laugh nervously, putting his head back a couple of inches to look better at you.

“Seems like you're gonna have a heart attack, what's the matter?”

The soldier breathed heavily through his nostril, expelling all the air in a sight through his parted lips. A lower giggle escaped them as your eyes widened a little more interested in his response to your question.

“Sam… Sam said something this morning”.

There it was. Your grimace turned skeptical, sitting up to borrow the control remote and pause the movie. Turning to face him and placing an arm on the headrest, you puckered your lips in a funny gesture watching him click his tongue.

“Things are different nowadays and… y'know, we used to watch movies”.

“And that's what we're doing”.

“Yeah, but… it's like… now there are some kinds of non-speak social rules”.

You knew exactly what he was referring to and seeing him somewhat troubled and tense just made your heart melt. It wasn't that he was scared, but it almost felt like.

“Is it your first time since the forties?” You dared to ask, clearly with no intentions of making fun of him.

“I've never really… y'know, I was in my twenties when I left Brooklyn. I me— mean, 'm not stupid, okay? I've done things but not… sex like… to the whole point”. Bucky didn't have his eyes on you when he made that confession, rubbing the bridge of his nose by inertia as his nervousness increased. “And now everything… is pretty different”.

“It doesn't have to”. You just replied, stretching a hand to his right one to intertwine your fingers. “Listen, Buck… We don't have to, okay? We don't have to do anything if you're not ready. We can watch the movie and then… you can go, or you can stay to sleep with me”.

“I'd like that”.

“Leave?”

“Yeah, totally, if you excuse me, ma'am… I gotta leave” He clearly joked, about to stand up until you pushed him down to the sofa bursting in laughter. “Nah, I, uh… I mean, I'd like to sleep with you tonight”.

“I'd like too, and to wake up tomorrow morning with you”.

“Yeah, would be very awkward if you go to sleep with me and wake up with another guy in your bed”.

Bucky smirked at you, biting his upper lip before leaning to press both on yours. He couldn't believe you were being so comprehensive with him, not making any other uncomfortable questions, nor kicking his ass out of your house. At that moment, he realized he was madly in love with you, bringing you closer to himself so he could embrace you tenderly between his arms. And you let him, not wanting anything else than to be with him.

At the moment the movie finished, you both stretched your hands to the ceiling with a yawn opening your mouths. You palmed his thigh to beckoning at him, urging the soldier to follow you as you rubbed your eyes using your knuckles, a little sleepy. Turning off the lights on your way to your room, you changed your clothes for a baggy Iron Maiden's t-shirt, as he stripped himself leaving his clothes on the chair in front of your bed, only wearing a pair of black boxers at the end.

You were about to ask him which side he preferred when the words died on your tongue, glancing at him with his flesh hand over his dark grey shoulder. It was the first time you saw the vibranium arm in all its glory and Bucky gave you the impression of being embarrassed. He'd never stop surprising you with plenty of emotions for things that for you didn't have any importance actually —like the fact of not having two real arms.

“Come here”. You murmured, kneeling on the mattress and palming the other lateral, observing every one of his actions till lying next to him, in the middle of the gloom of your room.

Covering both of you with the sheets and turning on your sides to face each other, Bucky took the initiative of wrapping you close to his chest, as he placed his head on your pillow. He couldn't help but take a soft breath from your heavenly smell impregnated in, provoking a smile to grow on your lips. Surrounding his neck with your arms, you sunk your fingers in his short hair, gently caressing his scalp while you started to spread tender short kisses all around his face.

“This feels good”. He purred with such a pleased tone of voice, closing his eyes as he adventured his warm hand under your shirt to draw invisible patterns on your back.

“So good”. You affirmed, peppering his cheek with a bunch of noisy smooches.

Bucky squeezed you between his grip, hiding his face into the gap of your shoulder and neck, causing you goosebumps because of his exhalation against your skin. He was comfortable being that close, with no distance separating your chests and your legs intertwined in a bundle. You saw how relaxed he was when he pulled his head back to the pillow, noses touching and his eyelids closed.

“Good night, Buck”. You whispered, still feeling his caresses on your back, leaning to kiss him one last time.

“Good night, doll”.

a / n: i hope you have enjoyed the fluffiness of these three chapters because the fourth is gonna be... chaotic.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

and support writers with a REBLOG!!! 🤍

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[lorelexi]

Some bnha boys brushing your hair (Ft. Todoroki, Bakugou, Shinsou, Mirio, Amajiki, and Iida, separately)

Read the Haikyuu ver. here!!

Warnings: none! Very fluffy

These are really self indulgent so they aren't too inclusive for hair type as I have 2B/2C hair,,, so I apologize in advance 😔

A/N: Some my hero boys brushing your hair. Personally I think this is a really sweet act of intimacy and I think I would cry if anyone ever brushed my hair for me

---

Todoroki

• sweet, sweet boy

• first he has you sit down in front of him, in between his legs and gets to work

• he is so gentle, it makes my heart melt 

• starts at the ends like you taught him and just carefully works his way up, getting out all the tangles and knots without hurting you

• probs whispers really cute things to you while he’s working

• you’re grateful that he can't see your embarrassed expression

• examples include “your hair is so pretty my love, I think it suits you so well”

“Thank you for letting me be close to you like this, I love you.”

• can you hear me squealing?😭😭😭

• when he’s done he kinda just nuzzles his face in your hair and wraps his arms around you from behind🥺💙

• you thank him and he just kisses your temple and tells you that he’s glad to anytime 

• AAAAAAAA

Bakugou

• *shivers*

• even though he’s usually very rough around the edges, obviously he doesn’t want to hurt you so he tries so so hard to be gentle

• he’s gonna have his little slip ups occasionally where he tugs on a knot a little too hard but for the most part he does good

• I like to think that y'all probably do this at the end of a stressful day because it’s a way that you can both wind down and still be with each other and not having to worry about too much talking when you’re both tired

• I think Bakugou uses this as a sort of stress relief as well; he can just sit there and just focus on doing one thing, one brush stroke at a time

•  you make a small noise if he tugs too hard and he mumbles an “i'm sorry” every time and presses a kiss to the area where your jaw meets your ear to make up for it 😖🧡

•  similar to todoroki, when he’s with his job he rests his chin on your shoulder and reaches his arms around you and takes a hold of your hands gently so you can play with his fingers🥺

• he’s not verbal about it but you know that he likes it, so you do it as a lil thank you for his brushing your hair for you 

• i love boys so much what the fuck is up w that

Shinsou

• toshi. toshiiiiiiiiii 😭😭

• i alr know this one is gonna get me in my feels dude

• honestly I feel like he’d shower with you too if that’s something you would feel comfy with

• nothing nasty, just pure, relaxing time that you guys can spend together

• he’ll wash your hair for you!!!

• he’ll even follow your hair routine

• anyways back to the subject at hand,,, my bad

• another gentle boy who wants to make sure you're happy and comfy the whole time,, maybe might give ur scalp a lil massage too???if you want 

• Im telling you guys, it’s like he was made for this or something, he just is able to put you at such ease and it is so comforting and warm💜🥰

• when he’s all done he most DEFINITELY uses a hand to sweep all of your hair to one side, exposing your neck where he places the absolute sweetest kiss 😳

• AAAAAFJBGBGB

• you smile at him with soft eyes and turn to give your good boy a proper kiss for his hard work

• you also return the favor because you know Toshi really loves it when you brush/play with his hair too

• however he’ll lay with his head on your lap so that he can admire you from where he is 

• grr yall are SO CUTE!!!!

• sorry,, sorry,,,, I got so carried away with this one I just rlly love him yk

Mirio

• why are all of these boys literally so sweet!!!!

• ok ok mirio is definitely the one who makes it like a whole event

• he’ll brush your hair (really softly mind you) and then when he’s done he’ll massage your shoulders and neck lightly and he’ll press kisses to your skin occasionally and it’s so warm and delightful

• you might let out a content sigh here and there and he’ll be like “does that feel nice doll?”😭

• when he’s all done he’ll probably do something cute like bring you a nice warm drink and give you a nice big kiss on your forehead 🥺

• “there you are sunshine”

• lots of hugs and cuddles afterward because I just KNOW this man is so good for cuddles

Amajiki

•my soft baby boy 😭

• when you ask him if he can brush your hair for you he's so sweet about it 

• "you want me to brush you hair? If you're sure, then of course, angel"

• he just wants to make sure you're comfy 🥺

• he's probably the most gentle out of all of them

• Softly just combing through, stroke after stroke, working out knots as smooth as he can

• puts his hand behind the brush whenever he gets tangles so that he can take the pressure off your scalp and not hurt you 😭💜

• if he ends up tugging too hard he'll just softly go "sorry baby" 😭😭😭😭😭😭

• when he's done you take his hands and press kisses to them and thank him and he swears his heart is gonna leap out of his chest

• he's so glad to help you in any way possible, baby boy 🥺

Iida

• Iida gives me some really soft vibes actually,,like I think his presence would be pretty comforting actually🥺

• prolly makes tea (or whatever your drink of preference is) for you both before you sit down

• if this is the first time he's brushing your hair for you, he listens very intently when you explain to him what you would like him to do

• asks you questions to make sure he’s doing everything right hehe

• “I just want to make sure I’m doing everything the best way that I can sweetheart.”

• you appreciate his dedication

• Ok ok I read this fluff headcanon by @katsukari that Iida likes to read with you and I think that that is SO perfect

• he sits behind you softly combing through your hair while you read a book out loud

• sits there with the softest smile listening to your voice 😭

• after he’s all done, he’ll kiss the top of your head before taking you into his arms for a big hug AAAA

• this mans would give such nice hugs, I mean come on, have u seen his beefy arms

[sslow-dancer]

“You Need Some Help?” (Josuke Higashikata x Reader)

Warnings: none!

tags: gender-neutral, gender-inclusive, josuke x reader, sfw, fluff, new school, new kid

Description: It’s your first day at Budogaoka High, Josuke notices your confusion and agrees to show you around the school. Along the way, he introduces you to his friends and decide to hang out.

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

You walk down the streets of Morioh, doing your best not to get distracted by the numerous signs of shops you pass by. Your knees occasionally hitting the new school bag you have in your hands.

It was a new town, new school, new people to you and your family. However, despite having to create new (probably awkward) introductions in this town, your parents seemed extremely happy when you all arrived. Going from living in Osaka all the way to Morioh was a drastic change. Osaka was constantly loud and full of tourists, you almost felt like you saw more foreigners than Japanese citizens. Though, you still miss those loud noises and tourists in a way. Morioh is quiet, receives visitors in the warmer seasons and rather friendly for the most part, making your parents even more excited when you moved there.

You look at the time on your watch, it reads, 8:00AM. You sigh stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, meeting the entrance of the school. Your eyes dart at the multiple groups of boys and girls around your age laughing and communicating with their friends as they enter and hang out around the school. You bite your lip, scanning around to see if there’s anyone who can help you navigate the school. Gosh, I don’t want to be late! you think.

“You need some help?” A curious deep voice asks behind you. Your eyes widen, a little startled at this person’s sudden question. You turn around, you’re in aww when you perceive the person in front of you.

The person is a boy of around 6-foot height, his hair in a 1950s-like pompadour, a chiseled face, sapphire eyes and is wearing a uniquely decorated school uniform. You almost blush at his rather handsome appearance, but you manage to stop yourself from doing so. You stutter,

“y-yeah. I do. I’m uh- new here.” you laugh slightly, hoping he doesn’t point out your nervousness. Though to your surprise, he only replies politely with a kind smile on his face,

“Oh okay well, I can show you around-“

“Thank you so much-“

“but first, I’d like to know your name.”

You cringe at your rudeness of interrupting him, you clear your throat, ready to give him your name and your sincere apology,

“I apologize for interrupting your words but um, my name is L/N F/N. I go by my first name. It’s very nice to meet you.” you immediately bow after you’re done answering.

“Higashikata Josuke, nice to meet you.” he says with a bow back. Josuke smiles when he sees you nervously kicking at the pebbles on the ground. ‘They’re kind of cute’ he thinks. He breaks the silence,

“Now that that’s done, let me show you around. We got time for most of the school, I think.” He leads you to the entrance, you follow next to him as you both walk up the steps. He stops abruptly, his eyes scanning around the schoolyard,

“That’s weird...”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well my friends usually meet me around this time so we can go to class together, but they’re somehow not here yet. Huh, weird.” You bite your lip, he lets out a sigh,

“It’s whatever, I’ll just see them later. Let’s go. I don’t wanna be responsible for you being late on the first day. Come on.” He waves you over to show you around the first floor. You nod, placing your bag over your shoulder as you follow him in.

Though the school is large, Josuke managed to explain the different sections and hallways pretty well. You were impressed at how the map wasn’t very useful. He’s nice enough to lead you to your first home room class.

“So basically this is it, here’s your room and hopefully you remember your way around after.” You chuckle at his statement. You point,

“You aren’t part of 1A?”

“Oh no, I’m part of 1B but it’s not far from here. If ya want, I can wait outside for you once class is over.”

“Oh no! That’s alright, thank you though. I think I’ll be fine.” You chime, smiling at him. Josuke smiles, he waves at you,

“Well I’m off, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah!”

And with that, the bell rings and you’re off to first period.

~ Time Skip ~

You practically sprint out of your seat once dismissal arrives. You were rather hungry despite having lunch earlier, the bento your mother prepared you that morning didn’t fill you up. You rush out the class to avoid getting pushed by multiple students gathering outside the schoolyard to walk home, get picked up and wait for the bus. You’re surprised to hear your name get called out once you’re close to the gates,

“Hey! Hey! Wait up!”

You turn around to see Josuke, his body pressed against the front doors stairs’ railing with 2 other guys standing next to him. They both turn their heads to look at you, one of them slightly taller than the other. He waves again to get you to come closer,

You blink, walking back towards their direction. He smiles when you meet face to face, he holds his hand out to them,

“These are my friends, Okuyasu and Koichi. Okuyasu, Koichi, this is Y/N.”

You blush, you aren’t one to be introduced to people, you’re usually the one introducing yourself. The slightly shorter one, Koichi, smiles and nods at you,

“It’s very nice to meet you. Josuke was just telling us about you!”

You nod, blushing even more at the fact that you were even worth speaking about. Okuyasu furrows his eyebrows, putting his hands in his pockets as he looks you up and down,

“Huh, you are pretty cute-“ Koichi nudges his arm harshly, Okuyasu lets out an “ow” and frowns as he backs up from you.

You giggle, “it’s okay Koichi,” you turn to Okuyasu and nod, “I bet he meant no harm.”

Josuke rubs at his neck, waiting for the slightly awkward introduction to end. You look behind you and sigh,

“I gotta go. It was lovely meeting you all but I’m really hungry and need to get back home-“

“You’re hungry? Well actually, we were just about to get some lunch together at that new Italian place that just opened. You wanna come?” Josuke asks curiously.

You bite your lip, looking at your watch. You let out deep breath and nod. ‘Josuke did ask so nicely so.. why not?’ you think.

You all decide to walk down to the restaurant. You make quick conversation with Okuyasu and Koichi. Josuke walks next to you, keeping quiet. He takes a few quick glances at you, wanting to speak but getting too shy to do so.

You are met with the friendly welcome of the main and only chef, Tonio. You learn that he’s originally from Italy and opened his restaurant in hopes of bringing people health and happiness with the help of his dishes.

You all spend around an hour there, talking and laughing as Tonio prepares the courses for you all. You are surprised when you learn about the bizarre things that happens to one’s body when one eats his meals. You about threw up when you gobbled up the pasta that Tonio claimed would help your sudden stomach pains. You were almost scared that he was trying to hurt you and that Josuke and his friends played you but luckily, that was not the case and definitely not something you’d expect out of the boys you met.

Josuke slightly glares at Okuyasu as he tries to continuously flirt at you. He didn’t know why he felt a sense of frustration but he did know that he wanted to speak to you. Perhaps it was jealousy? Though Josuke didn’t want to take that into consideration.

You wave a goodbye to Tonio, smiling as you think about how much you’re going to tell your parents about this place. You let out an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction as the four of you exit the restaurant. You jump excitedly,

“That was so fun! Thanks for inviting me guys.” You say with a huge grin on your face. You didn’t know you’d open up this fast but in a way, you were glad that you did.

“Sure! We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Koichi says, waving at you. Okuyasu walks next to Koichi, waving too “you stay cute, alright?”

You giggle nodding, waving as you watch them walk down the sidewalk. You turn to Josuke,

“Hey, aren’t you going down with them? Oku told me your neighbors.”

“Yeah but um.. I was hoping I could walk you home..”

Your eyes widen, his suggestion making your heart flutter. Josuke laughs nervously,

“That’s unless you don’t want me to! I just thought ‘cause it can be a bit dangerous to walk around this late especially when you’re new in town and I-“

You cut him off, “I’d love if you did that. Thank you.”

It’s Josuke’s turn for his heart to flutter. He was beginning to think that he liked you, but not so much in a friend kind of way. But then again, he had just met you so he didn’t know why he was acting so shy.

You lead him to your house, which was luckily not to far from Tonio’s place. The walk was fairly quiet, but not awkward at all. You enjoyed the silence shared between you two. You stop in your tracks, facing him,

“Well, this is it. Thank you again, I wish for your walk to be safe too.” You say to him, he smiles. God his smile is so cute, you think. Wait, what? Why am I thinking that?

Josuke sighs “yeah, thank you.” You notice the quietness in his voice, you chime,

“Hey, you alright? You didn’t talk much when we were with Koichi and Okuyasu.”

“I’m fine...I’m just-“

You nod for him to continue, he sighs,

“I- I wanted to ask if you’d like to hang out with me alone sometime after school this week? I wanna get to know you better...”

You blush at this. You look down at your feet, biting your lip as you think about hanging out with him. Well he is pretty cute...

“Again, if you’re not comfortable with that, that’s okay too! I’m not gonna force you or anything-“

You giggle at his nervousness, you nudge at his shoulder,

“Quit trying to take everything back. Of course I’ll hang out with you. After school, right?”

Josuke is taken aback by your confidence, but he manages to nod. You smile,

“Imma go. I’ll see you tomorrow?” You say, walking up to the front door. He nods again.

Josuke blushes hard once you’re out of his sight. He mentally beats himself up for being awkward as he walks back to his house. Though after a while, he manages to crack a smile once he realizes he was still able to ask you out.

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

A/N: Hi! So I’m back :P

[seiyasabi]

Deception

(This is a Yandere L x Cute Blushy Female Reader story :)) Just a warning; I’m trying my best to make my fics as inclusive as possible, so this may not be as detailed as possible. I hope you understand. 

TW: Stalking!, breaking and entering, stolen items, spy cameras!, unknown voyeurism!, mutual masturbation!, etc.. 

Sorry if this seems OOC!) 

With slightly shaking hands, you place a piece of chocolate cake in front of the dark haired detective, “I’m sorry, Lawliet, it’s just-” You fiddle with the hem of your jumper, a dark blush covering your cheeks, “Thu-they, uhm, they stole my… undergarments. I’m missing five panties that were in my dirty clothes, and, uhm, that means that they were inside my flat. I’m really scared! What if they hurt me?” 

Your companion flinches at your words. Hurt you?! He would never hurt you! Not that you know that, of course. L has only put up spy cameras and stolen small items, he isn’t planning on doing anything harmful. 

Luckily for him, you haven’t found the spy cameras, allowing him to watch over you. 

But, that’s beside the point. Right now, your cute self needs consolation, “I see. It seems that they’ve escalated from peeping outside your window, to breaking in. Did you ever install those security cameras I told you about?”

You nod your head vehemently, holding clasped hands over your chest, “Yes! I installed them the day you told me about them! But, somehow, they were able to turn off the live feed!” Small scared tears bead your eyes, causing the aloof man to bring you into a hug. He holds you to his chest as you cry, glaring at your closing staff that look in your direction. 

One of his hands rubs circles on your lilac clad sweater, your matching skirt rubs against his other arm. Your cute outfit is to die for, and he can’t wait to see you out of it later tonight. 

“You’ll be alright. I’ll find the person soon, and they’ll be locked up far, far away from you,” You look up at him with watery, hopeful eyes, causing him to continue, “I found a few finger prints, and I think if I scan them into the system, I could find a match.”

A bright smile overtakes your features, as you pull him into an even tighter embrace, “Really? I’m so happy! Thank you so much!”

He chuckles wryly, smoothing a hand down your side, “Don’t worry your pretty head about it,” He can see you flush at his indirect compliment, “But, don’t celebrate too early. I haven’t caught them yet.”

Blushing even darker, you release him to fiddle with your skirt, “Well, I-I know that, but, a lot of police don’t believe me whenever I report a break in. They brush me off because they don’t leave any evidence behind, and you’re the first one to ever help me. I really appreciate you! From now on, you can have an entire cake for free!” 

He pinches one of your cheeks, enjoying the feeling of your blush between his fingertips, “You don’t need to do that. A slice of your delicious cake is more than enough.”

Gaping at him in shock, you shake your head in disbelief, “Whaaat? Where’s Lawliet, and what did you do to him?! He would never say no to cake!” Releasing your cheek, he pats your head affectionately. 

“You let me have multiple slices of cake while I’m here, that is more than enough.” 

Huffing with a pout, you nod your head in understanding, “Fine, no full cake for you.”

One of your workers calls your name, causing you to perk up, and immediately hurry over to them. Zoning out of your conversation, L finishes off his cake, watching your excitable form help the others clock out. His eyes rake over your body, mouth salivating at the image of you. He can’t wait to frame your ex-con neighbour. Once he does that, you’ll surely fall into his arms, allowing a beautiful romance to blossom. 

Seeing you skippin back over to him, he looks back at his now empty plate, “Okie dokie! Am I able to take your plate? I don’t want to keep you waiting to walk me home,” He nods, and you grab his plate and cutlery, hurrying towards your kitchen. 

After your workers leave and he can hear the sink in the back, he allows an uncharacteristic smile to stretch across his face. 

Everything is going according to plan. 

-

“-Thank you for walking me home! I really appreciate all that you’ve done for me!” You wave at the crazy haired man, a cute blush and shy smile on your pretty face. 

He nods in acknowledgement, watching you go inside, before waiting a few moments. Once he hears you lock the doors, he hauls ass to his flat. 

People automatically move out of his way, allowing him to get home in a record time. Once inside, he hurries to his computer chair, and boots up his computer. 

Pulling up the live feed in your home, he watches you intently. L loves watching you cook, clean, pee, shower-everything. Everything about you is perfectly and adorably done, pulling at his heartstrings exponentially. 

He spends a good three hours watching you do mundane tasks, before his favourite part of your day begins; shower time. 

Watching your perfect body be on display for him is enough to get him hard, but you lathering yourself with a thick, white liquid is enough to make him bust at the implications. You truly have him whipped-wait, what are you doing? 

His dark eyes watch as you open what he assumed was a sewing box, only to pull out a portable hitachi wand. L’s mouth falls open in shock, he’s never seen you masturbate, and he’s watched you for a little over a year! Hell, he didn’t even know you had a sex toy! 

You continue on, completely unaware of his prying eyes. Picking out a large t-shirt and panties, you continue to your bathroom. Once inside, you set down the clothes and vibrator on your counter, before stripping yourself of your outfit. 

Your body now on full display, you grab your vibrator, and bring yourself to your tub. Stepping inside it, you sit down with ease, before parting your legs, leaving your pretty cunny on full display. Thank God L put a camera in your shower head. 

Pulling the shower head feed up on full display, he quickly pulls his hardening cock out of his joggers. 

Lawliet watches as you start to rub up your body, pinching your nipples lightly, and teasingly touching your slit but neglecting your clit. Seeing this, he starts to rub his tip with his thumb, spreading his bead of precum all over his head. 

This goes on for a few moments, your small moans making his hair stand on end. You have no idea what you do to him. 

Feeling that you’re not ready, you grab your vibrator, flicking it on with your nimble thumb. The loud noise can be heard echoing throughout your bathroom and through his speakers, setting him on edge on what is about to happen. 

Placing the silicone tip to your pretty clit, a loud keen escapes your lips. L groans at the sound, eyes trained on your glistening core. His hand starts to stroke his throbbing cock, trying to go in sync with the low vibrating. 

Your moans and whines almost make him bust right there, but he holds it in with all his might. He needs to cum with you, which seems to be approaching soon. 

Flicking the switch once more, you allow the vibrations to increase tenfold. Your moans are now at full volume, your hips bucking into the hitachi. Slick drips from your cunny into a pool underneath your plush ass, causing grunts to fall freely from Lawliet’s mouth. 

“Fuck, you look-shit-” He murmers to himself, watching as you suddenly gush in orgasm. Your squirt comes out in a giant gush, soaking your cunny and making your legs shake in euphoria. Small keens fall from your lips, as L distractedly cums all over himself with a deep gasp. 

Lawliet doesn’t bother to clean himself up, only watching in awe, as he watches you stand to your unsteady feet. You then set the vibrator aside, and turn on the shower, warming water raining down on your tired body. 

Yeah, things are falling into place quite well. 

He’s sure to have you very soon. 

[scriptaed]

his side, her side finale | 00:00

genre: angst/fluff/implied smut; 

pairing: reader x jungkook;

length: 4.6k;

synopsis: a collective snapshots in time shared between two, whose fates were undeniably intertwined and futures would never come to be.

No matter how infinite the pages could write itself, in the way that he catches her stealing glances from across the room or the scalding spark imprinted on her hand by the touch of his own, there really are only three versions to every story: his side, her side, and the truth’s side; and in your unsolicited albeit self-justified defense, the truth is, what was once seemingly perpetual is now merely trivial. The imagery that once had you kicking and screaming into your sheets at night, the fleeting moments that were shared by both but valued by one, and the inevitably incessant burden of jealousy brought upon by a fervent want that could never be had could only have been falsified by a break—spatially, temporally, and heartfully. The mind can only tug so much at one’s strings; and yet, to be bent, only time could prove possible.

...and that time is exactly what is needed by all.

her side;

“Are you joining us for dinner tonight, Y/N?” 

“Huh? What?” your ears perk at the sound of your friend’s call. 

“Oh, there she goes again,” your other friend interjects with the roll of her eyes. You almost collapse when she swings a hand over your shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to get your ears checked?”

“No, but I might have to get my eyes checked,” you joke, despite pulling in all the performance points you could win with a disdainful scan up and down her less than professional attire. Thankfully, your act is gleefully extended by her cheesy gawk of an expression. Putting up a merciful pair of hands in the air, you laugh, “hey, in all seriousness, it’s not my fault you guys keep drooling over boys.”

“Uhuh, so you’re trying to tell us that boy talk is what’s putting you to sleep?” your friend’s accomplice crosses her arms, raising an accusatory pair of brows. 

“Yeah,” you say much too seriously so you throw in an airy laugh, “I mean, there’s more to life than boys, y’know?”

“Right, like…?”

“Like…” your voice trails off because, for some reason, your mind goes blank as you attempt to recall your lifestyle from your previous hometown. “Like… hanging out with friends! With you guys!”

“Gah! You’re only able to say that because you have dozens of boys chasing you around the office. Us, on the other hand, time just… it just keeps ticking…” the two of them sigh in synchronization and you feel the heat of her arms retract as she shakes the hand of her one and only sympathizer. 

“Psh,” you can’t help but grin throughout the frown elicited by their vivacious performance, “you guys have plenty of time. Just enjoy life for now and I’m sure you’ll find someone along the way.” 

“Wait, but seriously,” her voice suddenly rises from her previously sullen state, as does her head on her friend’s shoulder. She looks you dead in the eye, and, honestly, you almost feel as though your privacy had just been invaded. “You really haven’t ever liked anyone before?” 

“Uh…” you scatter through the disarrayed files that were your buried memories, eyes squinting at the sun that peeks through the clearing sky after a day full of rainfall. “Elementary and middle school don’t really count… too busy studying in high school… college was full of fuck boys I couldn’t care less for… and at work…”

The more that you hear yourself ramble, the more the reality of your lonesome future settles into the already burdened shoulders of yours.

“At work? You mean here? Or do you mean your last job?”

“Well,” you frown, trying to recall every male colleague that had piqued even the tiniest of interest in you; and as the two of your friends lean in, you start to lean back, despite the charging light bulb that flickers from the unlocked recollection of two years ago. “There was a guy who liked me and told everyone at work that he liked me, which I thought was really weird… nice guy, kind of a nerd, but I didn’t like him that way. Who else? Uh, hm—”

—bzzz. 

The vibration against your back pocket pulls the plug from your train of thought. 

“Aw man,” you hear your friends curse in the background, “just when we were finally getting her to spill something.” 

The name on your screen has your heart skipping with delight.

 Yezi [5:20 PM] Hey, I know you’re gonna forget, so you before you do, we’re having dinner together tonight :) 

“It’s okay,” your friend pats the back of the other, “there’ll be some cute enough boys for her at tonight’s barbeque, I’m sure.”

“Ah shit,” you curse under your breath, hastily typing a response before peering up at your friends like a deer caught in the headlights, “actually, guys, turns out I already made plans with my friend from home. I’m sooo sorry.”

“Oh, really?” the two of them gasp. “Isn’t that a two hour train ride from here?” 

“Yeah, so I really got to go now,” your phone tumbles into your bag as you begin to widen your strides like a woman on a mission. 

They shake their heads in unison, “no, no, it’s okay!”

“I’m seriously so sorry guys,” you say as you pant, the distance between you and your friends widening by the second and forcing you to whirl around as you pace backwards. “I’ll make it up to you next time and do whatever you guys want, okay?”

“Really? Anything?”

“Yeah,” your hands draw a wide, inclusive circle into the air, “anything.” 

“Even a blind date?” 

“You know what? Why the hell not?” you chime, whirling back around with your back on them and a smile hidden away. Skipping off into the opposite direction toward the train station, you exclaim nonchalantly, “new year, new me!”

Lately, either through a stroke of luck or a reset of a life in a new town, there’s been something spectacularly whimsical about tonight’s air; and when a zephyr passes by, lifting you to the tip of your toes to an invincible high and relaying the confuzzled whispers of your friends—

“—wait, it’s not a new year, it’s already April—”

—you finally acquire a two year long-sought sensation: golden.

-

“I can’t believe you almost forgot about our plans!” 

“Hey, I had a reminder set on my phone just ten minutes after your reminder” you quip with pursed lips, “and I still made it on time, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Yezi prims with a stern look plastered across her face, gesturing, “with your hair and clothes damp in rain and your face smiling like a wagging, clueless beagle.”

“Well… beagles are cute, so I’ll take that as a compliment?” 

She frowns, ignoring your remark, “did you not check the weather forecast?”

“I did.”

“So why didn’t you bring an umbrella?”

“I forgot.”

“Ugh, you forget everything these days,” she plants a palm to her forehead before returning to her plate, “well, I’m glad that at least you’re so carefree nowadays. You’ve finally settled into your new workplace, huh? You look so happy now.”

“You talk—” it’s difficult to speak with food being stuffed into your mouth “—as if I lost a loved one.”

“Well,” she grits her teeth, as if biting her tongue, and proceeds to slice the slab of steak, “I wouldn’t say that’s too farfetched.” 

Frowning, your words come out muffled through puffed cheeks, “whaddya mean by dat?”

“You can’t tell me you forgot about what happened last time you were in town.”

“Uh…?” you furrow your brows, tracing into a forgotten yet familiar field you had long neglected for your own wellbeing. Last time you were in town, last time you were working here, last time you went out on a company party, last time you walked through this town’s treacherously embracing frosty breeze, last time you were dining here, last time you got wasted, not just here but anywhere, last time you shed tears… all the last times of this town shared only one similarity, a similarity you had subconsciously left behind at some point in your transition between the past and the now. 

“Do I really have to say it myself?” she leans in, concerned. “I don’t want you bawling your eyes out again…”

Did she possibly mean… him?

“Jeon Jungkook,” she blurts, “there! I said it!”

Her utensils clatter onto her plate as she tosses her hands in the air in mercy, almost as if bracing herself for the storm after the calm, observing you intently but warily; that supposed storm, however and ever so fortunately, never arrives. 

“Oh,” you utter, words slipping from your lips like sand through a palm, “I’m not crying.”

“You’re not crying,” she confirms, astonished. 

“It doesn’t… hurt anymore?” you almost ask yourself. 

“It doesn’t?”

“It doesn’t,” you utter, shaking your head. Just as she’s caught off guard, you lurch across the table to pinch her cheeks, “but that doesn’t mean I appreciate you bringing him up during a perfectly lovely night!” 

“Sho—” she furrows her brows in combination to her squished cheeks “—he doesh make you shad shtill?”

“Well, he doesn’t make me elated,” you finally release her from your wrath, returning to stare downward at your food, “but I guess it makes me reflect fondly on the past. It’s kind of like a scar. I know how much it once hurt but I can’t feel it to the same magnitude anymore. Actually, instead, the happy, jittery moments are more vivid to me than the tears that were shed. Is that… odd?”

“Like… like what? Examples?” 

Like when his arm bumped into yours for the first time on the walk after work, like when he discretely went out of his way to ensure your safety across the bridge home, like when he enamored over the ‘ripped abs’ of a fully nude female character design of an upcoming project whilst you stood awkwardly with a set of breasts in full display for the two of you, like when the two of you escaped to become the aloof, static noise of an unbefitting party, or like when he held you in his hands and kissed you at the stroke of midnight, the butterflies live on—even today—to shield you from the dampened blows struck by dull weapons of jealousy, insecurity, and remorse. 

With time, the silver lining finally showed itself like a sun shining through after a stormy night. You’ve finally accepted the truths behind every weapon. She was pretty. They were pretty. She never wronged you. They never wronged you. They deserved his love. His heart belonged to whomever he desired. 

He never badmouthed his peers and, as blunt of a man as he was, he never pointed out your flaws, even if that meant you would later return home only to find mascara flakes on your cheeks. He treated women like a gentleman, as contradictory as it may seem from his appetite demeanor; and while you fell for him for that, you also cursed him for that very reason. He didn’t owe you anything… up to a certain point until the lines were too blurred to decipher between the truth, the deserved, and the faulty. Be it Ji-eun or Jennie, you’ve come to terms with his relationships. 

As much as your relations with him seemed to run on a fragile thread of fate, your time had run out and the window of opportunity had been shut—but hey, at least you had fun.

“Are you… smiling?”

“Hm?” you look up to find her staring at you in concern. Blinking blankly, you quickly clear your throat and retract the smile you had subconsciously adorned. “I am?”

“I… don’t know if I should be worried or not,” Yezi downs another glass of iced water and you’re about to follow suit until she almost chokes on her water, “hey—isn’t that Jennie over there?” 

“Jennie?”

You almost curse at Yezi for teasing you over bygones that should’ve been left as just that, but she really wasn’t lying. You can’t believe your eyes when you whirl your head around to look through the darkened tint of the restaurant’s window panes. You might have never really spoken to Jennie, but that figure is undeniably Jennie. 

“What is she doing?” you squint, struggling to grasp a clear vision of her silhouette under the dim, orange street light beside her. You could only catch a hint of her side profile but those cheeks and unique sense of fashion definitely belonged to her; on the other hand, the constant stumbling and the hand to her head, almost as if she’s about to collapse at any second, did not resemble her. “Oh, oh, hold on, wait, whoa—we should help her!” 

You scramble to your feet and bolt out the door whilst Yezi takes care of your abrupt leave with the restaurant staff. A freezing blast of wind welcomes you as soon as you step into the sidewalk but you waste no time. Abandoning the cold behind you along with the past, your mind is set on aiding the collapsed woman on the streets. 

“Hey! Jennie, hey!” you call out to her as you sprint to her side, dropping to the floor without caring to notice the shards of glass that consequently cut your knees as you carefully roll her limp body onto its back and away from the sharp hazards. The pain has you wincing and seething under your breath, but the conditions of the person lying before you has you even more concerned. Her skin is even paler than usual. Her chest rises and falls rapidly in an evident struggle. Your taps against her shoulder gradually become frantic shakes until all you can hear is your voice and the whispering commotion of bystanders behind you. “Jennie! Can you hear me?!” 

“Y/N!” you turn around to find Yezi peering down at you from above. “What happened?”

“I don’t know but something’s definitely not right,” you say as calmly as you could, “call 911. I’ll call her family.”

“Got it,” Yezi nods, immediately dialing the numbers on her phone but pausing in the midst of the ring to face you, “wait, do you know anyone from her family?”

Gritting your teeth, you frown as you dig into your memories, “...no, I know she might have had a boyfriend back then, so he might know, but I don’t know if they’re still together and I don’t even know his number…”

“Do you know anyone who might know her boyfriend then?” 

“Well…” 

The ending trails of your voice are whisked away into the returning wind of that fateful night. Hands gripping at your phone and eyes staring at the stranger yet familiarity of a name that glares off the screen, it’s an inevitable force that has you stupefied yet marveled at the revival of a tugging string that ties you to him through the strangest, most meandering paths. 

-

his side;

It was almost like a fever dream. Her name plastered across his screen and his eyes squinting through the glaring light that illuminates his room. It had been two years since he had any contact nor mention of her; and now, out of the blue, in the midst of a nap after gym session, she calls him for help. He couldn’t believe his ears when he first heard her voice, believing it all to be another one of those numerous dreams that had him regretting his past or questioning his choices. He shot straight up in bed, phone grasped and glued to his ears that blocked out the computer fan that ran in the background. 

Even now, after throwing on a sweater and jacket and bolting out the door in a state of rescue, he can’t quite believe his eyes; because there she sits on the hospital bench, in the signature slumped boyish manner and the confused blank stare off into the distance that still has him quirking a smile in remembrance every once in a while. In her favorite white blouse and her only slack of black dress pants, it’s almost as if nothing had changed, almost as if she had never left. 

It’s almost like time had bent to his incessantly subconscious pleas and reversed its works; but the almost will always be an almost, for as long as those hallmark vivacious eyes and those rekindled mien of ambition lives. As far as Jungkook knew, she left with a dreary heart and returned with a fiery purpose. 

Despite all that, he can’t help but notice the way she fidgets in her seat, nearly sinking and avoiding all contact the second his presence had been noticed. Instead of the sheepish flickering stolen glances of the past, he finds himself at odds with the way she fights to return the locked gaze of his eyes. She fought so hard that she might have forgotten how to speak, rendering a soft chuckle from his lips because the girl he endlessly dreamt of might still live after all; and for the first time in a long while, Jungkook has to put forth the effort to fill in the silence. 

“Why did you call me?” he asks plainly as he stands before her.

“Well, I didn’t know any of her friends except you…” he watches as she fidgets with her hands, gaze falling to the floor before returning to him, “are you going to visit her? I think the doctor should be okay with it if you’re her close friend.”

“No, Kai will be here soon,” he explains, finally bending down and placing the bottle of rubbing alcohol beside her on the bench. “I have other shit to attend to.”

“Oh, right,” she mumbles. The evident surge in annoyance amuses him that he just can’t quite wipe the smirk off his face. Turning her head, she continues, “you must’ve had plans with Ji-eun tonight. Sorry for the trouble.”

This is it. This is the moment that replayed on repeat like a broken tape in his dreams. This is his chance to mend the wounds he had inflicted upon the confessing girl who cried her eyes out on the cab home that one, indelible night. 

An uncomfortable silence fills the air with the exception of the unscrewing of a plastic bottle and the gentle return of the bottle against the metallic bench, which is then followed by another staggering silence. 

“We’re not that close and I’m not dating Ji-eun now.” 

The girl turns with the quirk of a brow, especially when she spots him kneeling before her with a soaked cotton ball. “W-Wait what? Wait, shit, ow.”

“I don’t talk to Jennie as much as you think,” he states as a-matter-of-factly and continues to gently pat the cotton against the wounds on her knees. After hesitantly placing a band aid over the wound—something he had never done for anyone else nor for himself who just “sucked it up”—he finally lifts his gaze to interlock with hers, observing intently as if to soak the reality of it all in now before the inevitable tape begins to replay for the near future. “I broke up with Ji-eun before you left.” 

“And...” she utters slowly, “why are you telling me this?” 

Just like in the pool on that one night, her challenging eyes never budge and neither do his.

“I thought the past you would’ve liked to know,” he states. Head tilting to the side as if to get a better look, he remarks, “shit, you don’t look away anymore, huh?”

“Why would I?” she quips, snorting and finally breaking contact to stare off to the side. “It didn’t matter if I knew or not. It’s not like we were a thing.”

“Really?” Jungkook hums, gathering the scraps of cotton and paper before standing to his feet with a genuine soft sigh. It’s hard to brush off the two year old sinking sensation in his chest for something so nonchalant, but he manages to do it like he always does with that stoic look on his unreadable face. “Cause I thought we were.” 

“What?” she gapes and he only gazes firmly back at her. “Why? It’s not like I… liked you.”

“Really?” Jungkook’s eyes flicker up at the ceiling for a brief second, lips pursing as he concludes the cards on the table: the unapologetic albeit risky truth or the defensive albeit purposeless self-deception. Unbeknownst to her, Jungkook had all the cards in his hands. 

“Yeah,” she mumbles, avoiding his gaze and shrugging, “and it’s not like you liked me.” 

Peering down at her from above, the boy’s crooked grin gradually settles into the silence along with the usual unreadable mien that he wears on the daily. “How would you know?”

Finally turning to return his gaze, she raises a brow at him before uncrossing her arms and standing to her feet. One step, two steps until she stands before him as close as she could recall on that night, she utters the one mutual truth of the night. 

“Because you never told me.”

The brief silence filled with tension seems to last an eternity, yet neither of the two could take their eyes off the other. A rush of thrill intermixed with panic floods his blood. His fight or flight system screams at him to obey the very laws he had followed all these years but his mind warns him that change is a necessity for this euphoric heat that radiates from this very moment. He’s never quite felt like this before: throat knotting and heart leaping nearly out of his chest. 

“Let’s—”

“—I need to catch the last train home,” she blurts, quickly taking a step back to distance themselves. 

Like a magnetic force that she is to him, her retraction almost pulls the breath from his lungs along with it.

“What?” he frowns, trying to steady his breath. “It’s 10 right now. My last ride is at midnight.” 

“Yeah, well mine is at 11 and I still have to walk there,” she shrugs indifferently to the entire ordeal—something that Jungkook takes to the heart. 

“What?” he mutters, “the station is right next to this hospital.” 

“What can I say? I’m a slow walker,” she prims, bowing her head and waving her hand to bid farewell. “Thanks for the band aid and all the help today. It was nice catching up. See y—I mean, take care.” 

He stands there in silence, too stunned by the constant turn of events. Distracted by the crestfallen weight in his chest elicited by his shattered hopes, Jungkook raises a hand in response to her pressed, upcurved lips. He can only mumble a seemingly indifferent, “...see ya.”

There she goes—as gracefully as she had reentered his life and as fleeting as she had left for a second time. All this time he knew his side of the story: growingly regretful, discovering a yearning he never knew was within his capabilities, and helplessly pondering over a past he could not change and wondering if she did the same. At some point in time, those feelings became a fragment in time and that person he wished she knew became a version of his present self. He moved on, he forgot the magnitude of the pain, but he never quite came to terms with what it all could have been. 

And all at once, the very moment he stands before her, the past him whomst he had perceived to be temporary comes flooding back into reality—flesh, fervent, and feelings of an immensity he could never have been prepared for—and if he were to be honest, he thought it would have been the same for her. 

He never really knew her side, after all; but at the very least, he desires to hear it from her, herself. She never missed him, she never thought of him from time to time, she never woke up from a dream of him so vivid that it felt so real that she was left with a melancholic loneliness in the air—those words would close the gap in his chest. 

If there’s one thing Jungkook had absolute control over at this very moment, it’s the last chapter of their shared novel in time and this is not the conclusion he imagined. 

Before he knew it, Jungkook finds himself sprinting down the train station. Across the coldly lit hallways, up and down the stairs instead of the ‘shitty, slow escalators,’ and cutting through the nearing midnight breeze of the platforms until the breeze finally brought him to the last unvisited area, his daunting final destination. 

Checking his watch, Jungkook’s chest heaves as he holds his hands to his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. It’s well past 11 now, nearing midnight, and he’s standing at the platform in the opposite direction of her new hometown. To the mere bystander, this platform really didn’t make any sense; but to Jungkook and his inkling, perhaps by a disheveled and desperate state, every twist and turn of the wind brought him right where he believes he belongs. 

Puffs of his breath mark the airy night as he watches his last ride pass by the rails before him. Every cart, every seat, he scans them all. No one. His heart sinks with each check, each flicker of the eyes, and he begins to curse himself for his state of delusion until the last cart of the train flashes by to reveal his finale. 

And as if by some sort of invisible string, life had somehow led him to her once again.

Because there she sits, across the wide yet surely crossable gap of the railway, legs crossed and hands folded in her lap, as if she had been waiting for him all this time. 

Jungkook stands there, stupefied by the works of fate, “why are you—”

“—hey, Jungkook!” she calls out to him, voice echoing across the vast, empty station. “What were you going to tell me back at the hospital?” 

Taken aback by her question, Jungkook chuckles to himself in utter amusement; and as if by the magic sifting through the night, the nearby tower bells ring across the remaining distance between the two at the precise stroke of midnight.

“Let’s date!”

The boy’s zestful holler resembles more like that of a cheerful proclamation, for the way he holds his hands to his lips before throwing them freely into the air garners a giggle from his spectator. His voice projection accompanies the bells, perhaps too softly and thereby physically undetected, but she could hear him nonetheless. 

“I liked you and I still like you so damn much, you dumbass!” 

After witnessing the boy’s courageous display, the words she’s been waiting for but never knew she needed until their paths crossed once again for a limitless nth time slips from her like second nature, almost as if she’s practiced it in her dreams all this time. Her loud proclamation, however, slips beneath the bells like an accompaniment to a ceremonious work of fate. 

The two of them stand on opposite sides of the platform, their confessions are far and wide and perhaps inaudible, but the dorky smiles adorning their lips as they gaze across at their inevitable final chapters serve to prove an undeniable fact. 

Whether by sheer will or by this invisible string, whether by his side or her side, the truth is: their eternities will be forever tied, forever golden.

[bosspigeon]

not if it's you

Prompt: Day One: Cooking, Day Two: Cuddling💕 Pairing: Mason/Male Detective Words: 3293 Summary: Mason is sick. Mason's not supposed to get sick, but magic tends to not give a shit if you're a big, tough vampire man with a reputation to maintain. A prompt fill for @wayhavensummer that I wasn't sure I'd finish, but I'm glad I decided to. I combined two prompts into one, along with the inclusion of the bonus challenge, "love languages!" Juni's love language is Acts of Service~ CW for emetophobia. Nothing actually happens, but it is discussed!

“I’m not a vampire, Mason,” Juni said to him when he clicked on the lamp on his dresser and Mason growled loudly in protest. “I’m sorry, but I can’t see in the dark.”

Mason's growl became a long, low groaning noise as he dragged a pillow over his face. It helped more than he cared to admit, being immediately plunged into soothing darkness and smothered in the warm, sweet scent of the detective buried in his pillow.

Still, he feels like absolute shit.

The illness should run its course in just a few days, from what Juni’s relayed to him about Nate’s research—since he won’t leave Juni’s apartment (he’s not going to say can’t, because that implies weakness, implies that he couldn’t even if he wanted to, and he could, he just won’t, and that’s all there is to it) until he’s well, and refuses to go crawling to the Agency when he just needs to wait things out.

If he went to the Agency, he’d just be “waiting things out” the same as he is there, only he’d be doing it alone in a stiflingly empty observation room, bored out of his fucking skull until someone decided to come poke at him for science. At least here, he’s got Juni fussing over him.

It’s sort of… nice, being fussed over.

And Juni would be fussing whether Mason was here or not. He’d probably be driving himself crazy with worry, making himself sick with it, if Mason were stuck at headquarters without him, and the thought of that makes Mason feel even worse than he already does. It’s really best for the both of them that the vampire is here, buried in a metric fuckton of blankets (because even if he feels like he’s going to burn alive, the second he leaves them the sweat cools on his skin and leaves him trembling) looking into the blank, beady eyes of a patchwork plush cat.

His entire body aches, throbbing dully from the top down, but he reaches out with a heavy arm and turns it around so it’s not fucking staring at him anymore.

Juni’s been gone for a while, but Mason can hear him over the low ringing in his ears, puttering around in the kitchen. His senses are weakened by the bizarre magical illness Juni’s likened to the flu after hearing the symptoms, but he hears the detective humming quietly to himself, smells some spices and herbs he’s too exhausted to bother identifying over the low thrum of something metallic and familiar.

Mason's stomach growls at the same moment it churns. Hungry, but the very thought of consuming anything, blood included, makes him feel nauseous.

He doesn't know how Juni managed to sweet-talk Adam into handing over Mason's blood rations for the few days it would take this sickness to work its way through his body, but it makes him faintly irked he'll have to disappoint the detective when he tells him he doesn't even think his traitorous stomach can handle it, no matter how hungry he is. Juni always looks so pitiful when he can't help, soft doe eyes and pouty mouth and genuine, heartfelt distress rolling off him in waves. Mason groans into the pillow and comforts himself by drawing another detective-scented breath deep into his lungs.

And then Juni knocks on the doorframe (of his own fucking bedroom, because he's ridiculous, and Mason's chest squeezes) and calls, "Still alive in here?" softly teasing, his voice carefully lowered in deference to Mason's throbbing skull.

He makes a rough noise and tosses aside the pillow, because the only thing better than being buried in Juni-perfumed sheets is taking in the scent of him right from the source.

Juni always looks so different when he's at home. He relaxes, softens, like a bird coming to roost. His shoulders aren't so tense, his eyes stop darting like he's waiting for an attack (something Mason noticed even before Juni was actually under attack every other week) and he just, he looks settled and safe. After the shit he’s been through, he deserves to feel safe.

He opens his mouth to say something, but Mason just awkwardly squirms his way out of the blankets to free his arms enough to reach out.

"C'mere," he grunts.

Juni laughs, and the way his cheeks curve, the way they make his eyes crinkle at the corners, makes Mason hate whatever magic bullshit allowed him to get sick in the first place with a burning fury that feels like it's immolating him from the inside.

Or maybe that's the fever.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Juni teases when Mason growls. It's not as fierce as he hoped it would be, which is more than obvious when Juni only smiles indulgently at him.

He perches on the edge of the bed and smooths a hand over Mason's clammy forehead, making a soft, commiserating cooing noise. Mason wants to be annoyed, wants to growl again, complain about being coddled, but the sound that comes out of him is not a growl, or a curse, but a soft moan. He pushes up into Juni’s hand and closes his eyes.

“You’re still burning up,” Juni sighs, sinking his fingers into the vampire’s hair and scratching at his scalp. He moans again, lower and rougher. A little awkwardly, he adds, “Nate said you should, y’know, drink something.”

Mason’s stomach turns, and he grits his teeth and shakes his head.

“Mason.”

He shakes his head again, turning his face into the pillow again when it starts to make him dizzy. He wants to break something. He feels so pitiful.

“Mason, you’re not gonna get better if you don’t—”

“You ever seen someone puke blood, detective?” he snaps. Juni’s hand retracts sharply, and Mason keeps his eyes closed. He doesn’t want to see the hurt streaking across that soft, expressive face. “It’s not pretty,” he adds gruffly, and it takes all the strength in his flagging body to roll over and turn his back.

Juni’s quiet for a long moment, before soft fingers are sliding into his hair again,rubbing at the nape of his neck. “I had kind of a weird idea that might help, if you think you can stop pouting long enough to hear me out,” he says.

“You sure know how to sweet-talk a guy, huh?” Mason grumbles, but his body, an aching knot of sweaty tension, starts to slowly loosen up under the gentle petting.

Juni goes quiet again, and then, with a little laugh, he says, “Would it make you feel better if I told you you’re really cute when you’re all whiny?”

“How fucking dare you,” he snarls impotently into the pillow.

Juni laughs, and when Mason rolls over again to glower at him, he snorts trying to stifle it. “Do you want to hear my idea or not?”

“Not exactly in any position to stop you, am I?” Mason scoffs.

The detective pokes his nose. “Nope!” Mason nips at his finger, but his reflexes aren’t exactly great at the moment, and Juni just pulls it back with a smile. “I wanted to ask before I, like, ruined one of your blood rations for a weird experiment, but I’ve been doing research on different recipes that use blood—” “Why?” Mason interjects.

Juni flounders a bit, shoulders drawing up to his ears. “I… Well, I know you don’t like to eat human food, for good reasons, but sometimes I can convince Felix and Adam to try stuff I make, and Nate likes to eat sometimes, and I like… I like cooking for people? And I can’t really do that for you, because I know how overwhelming your senses can be, but you’ve said they’re kind of dull right now, so I thought maybe I could make, well… sort of a blood soup?"

Mason blinks at the detective.

Juni nervously babbles on to fill his befuddled silence. "If I thinned it out with a mild broth, I figured it would go down easier. And I know ginger is really strong on its own, but it also settles the stomach, and with the blood and the broth, it might help? I thought about adding some other things, but I tried to be picky with it, because even if your senses are dulled, I don't want to overwhelm you."

Mason chews it over, and even though he can tell his silence is making Juni nervous with every second that ticks by (fidgety, fussy, open and honest to a goddamned fault, a ball of nerves Mason wants to drag into bed and shield from the world) he can't really think of much to say, except, "Sure. Why the fuck not?"

"That's okay! I figured it was a long shot anyway, and—" Juni freezes, his knee-jerk anxious capitulation cutting off like he’s run into a brick wall. "What?"

"I'm already overwhelmed, sweetheart," Mason groans, and honestly, even talking is getting exhausting, his aching throat protesting every word he can manage to eke out. He wants Juni closer, wants to bury his face in his neck and hide like a wounded animal crawling its way home. "It honestly can't get worse at this point. If you think it'll help, I'll try it."

Juni still looks stunned, but is also clearly jangling with nervous excitement. Nate's used the term "puppyish enthusiasm" before when describing the way Juni lights up when he's actually able to help, and it's almost comically accurate.

Juni's bolted from the room before Mason's sluggish brain has a chance to even process the humor at the observation into a snort.

He's alone again, and if Juni were still here, he'd call what Mason's doing pouting, but he's scowling, damn it. Not that anyone's around to see it save for Juni's stuffed animals. He pulls the pillow to his chest, half-burying himself underneath the blankets again. He keeps his foggy focus stretched far enough to hear Juni in the kitchen again, making a game effort not to clatter around noisily and failing spectacularly. It's the thought that counts, Mason supposes.

It doesn't actually take all that long for him to come back, but it still feels like ages with how shitty Mason feels. He's painfully aware of every single ache in his body, radiating down to his bones, of the fever burning him up, the mutinous turning of his stomach even as it gnaws itself apart with hunger. He’s becoming so bogged down in the prison his ailing body has become, he almost doesn’t notice Juni pattering his way back into the room. Almost.

The second he crosses the threshold, Mason senses are honing in on everything they can about him, his smell, his warmth, the way his cozy sweater (it’s midsummer, for fuck’s sake, and sure the AC is cranked due to Mason’s fever, but it always is, because Juni’s body regulates temperature like a goddamned lizard and he hates the heat almost more than Mason does) makes him look soft and touchable. It takes him a long while to even notice the detective is carrying a tea tray with a bowl on it, as well as a glass of water, and when he does, he’s honestly not sure what to make of the smell.

Human food is overwhelming, usually. But usually, Mason’s sinuses aren’t swollen and borderline useless. Juni is walking as carefully as he can, and there is a palpable relief when he sets the tray down on his bedside table without incident. “I made the broth already, because I didn’t want it to take too long if you said yes. It actually smells, like, really good? Is that gross of me to say?”

Mason tries to push himself upright, and his muscles protest loudly enough that he can’t quite bite back a grunt of pain. Juni makes a sound like he’s been shot, and his hands are on Mason with an urgency that vibrates through his skin. Still, his touch is an instant balm to the vampire’s overwrought senses, his hands gentle as they ease him upright and fussily pile pillows behind him to support him. It fucking sucks to be so weak, but at least it’s only Juni seeing him like this. He can’t quite express why, when it feels like his head’s stuffed full of cotton, but he thinks it would suck a lot more if he were riding this out alone, or in a sterile room at HQ. He lolls his head towards Juni, his cheek smashing against one of a half-dozen goddamned pillows piled around him, and laughs weakly. “Gonna feed me too, Nurse Fenn?”

Juni blushes, and the usual rush of his blood doesn’t smack Mason in the face like usual, but it washes over him in a gentle wave of warmth, that tempting smell tickling the back of his tongue. “Do you need me to?” he asks, and it’s pretty clear he’s trying to make it sound teasing, but it comes out much more earnest than anything else.

Mason almost wants to say yes, but he also doesn’t want Juni to be in the splash zone if his stomach decides it can’t handle the detective’s little experiment. “Nah, I got it,” he grunts, reaching for the tray. It trembles dangerously when his shaking hands lift it, but Juni’s quick to steady it and guide it to his lap. He mutters a quiet thanks, and Juni mercifully doesn’t rib him for his uncharacteristic politeness. “You’d make a cute nurse, detective,” he says to cover the strangely loaded silence.

Juni laughs and sits on the edge of the bed, close but not quite touching. “I’m too squeamish,” he offers with a shrug that rubs their shoulders together.

“You just made me soup out of blood,” Mason says dully.

“I also have a borderline breakdown giving myself the same shot I’ve been giving myself every week for the last decade,” Juni retorts. “Do you really think I could do it for someone else?”

Mason snorts. “Probably not. Would kill to see you in one of those little dresses, though.”

The only thing protecting Mason from getting a hilariously ineffectual swat on the shoulder is the bowl of soup in his lap. He’s not even sure his current feeble condition would be enough to stop Juni otherwise. “Eat your soup, asshole,” Juni groans, covering his burning face with his hands. He peeks through his fingers after a moment’s hesitation, “And maybe I’ll show you the Halloween costume Tina got me as a joke a couple years ago when you’re feeling better.”

Mason’s whole body reacts to that, and he can’t be sure if the chill that rolls down his spine is due to the illness, or something else entirely. If nothing else, choking down some soup will be worth it, just for that promise.

The first spoonful goes down surprisingly easy. He doesn’t really taste much, at first, not even the coppery tang of blood. It’s thin, as Juni promised, so it doesn’t quite coat his mouth the same way fresh, raw blood would. Juni’s watching him with obvious concern, eyebrows scrunched together and plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. Either concern that Mason’s body is going to reject it fully, or he just won’t fucking like it. Probably both.

“It’s not too hot, is it?” Juni asks, touching Mason’s knee lightly through the blanket. He swallows his mouthful hard and bites down the urge to ask the human not to stop touching him.

“S’fine,” he grunts, trying to parse what exactly he makes of it at all. The warmth feels nice, soothing his raw throat. He takes another bite. He thinks he can sort of make out the individual spices underneath the taste of the blood and the broth (slightly watered down bone broth, he;d guess) but he can’t really smell them either. The ginger, at least, is obvious. He knows the smell enough to guess the taste, even with the complete lack of culinary experience. It’s, strangely enough, not horrible. It does taste mostly like thinned-out blood, which is weird, and gives him a sense of dissonance from the texture he expects blood to have. “Weird.”

Juni doesn’t seem to take offense to that. “Well, you’re not spewing it across the room like you’re possessed, at least, so weird is better than bad?” he laughs, squeezing Mason’s knee. “How’s your stomach?”

Mason takes a second to consider. “Not great, but not terrible.”

Juni almost deflates with relief. “And the taste? It’s not too much, is it? I can be kind of heavy-handed with my seasoning, so I tried to be really careful. It’s really only a pinch of salt, sage, and ginger, with a little bit of licorice root, which I know is kind of weird, but it’s good for sore throats?”

“Tastes like…” Mason screws up his face, realizing he has absolutely no context to work with. “I don’t know. I think I like it?”

Juni smiles like the goddamned sun, and it somehow makes his snarky little pet name for Mason that much funnier. “Really?”

Mason’s not sure he’d be saying the same thing if his senses weren’t dulled to near-uselessness by his traitorous body, but the way Juni looks, like he couldn’t be happier to be dealing with a sick, cranky vampire hogging his bed and sweating in his sheets, makes him bite his tongue. There’s always a brightness to the human when he brings food to the warehouse for Nate and Felix, he smiles so wide his face almost cracks when Adam crumples under the weight of those puppy eyes and takes the smallest portion of whatever concoction Juni’s brought to nibble on, and offers the most awkward compliment he can manage. Juni just likes doing things for people, providing for them any way he can. Food is his usual go-to, but if he can help at all, he’s happy.

I can’t really do that for you.

It almost makes Mason wish he could enjoy whatever the detective whips up in his cramped little kitchen, just to make him smile.

Christ, his brain must be more addled than he thought.

He manages a few more spoonfuls of soup before his stomach starts to feel uncomfortably full, but the gnawing hunger of going too long without drinking has gone away, and he doesn’t feel so much like he’s going to puke like he did earlier. He feels heavy, and tired, and honestly that’s one hell of an improvement. Juni’s quick to take the tray and spirit it off back to the kitchen, bending to press a quick kiss to Mason’s cheek before he goes, and when he returns, the vampire is slumped in his pillow nest and half-asleep, eyes shuttered to thin slits.

He feels more than he sees Juni approach, and when a gentle hand smooths over his clammy forehead, he pushes up into it with a raw, weak noise he has zero energy to be embarrassed by anymore. He reaches out blindly, tangles his fingers in the knit of his detective’s sweater, and tugs. He can’t be sure how it happens, a jumble of movement and complaining muscles, but Juni winds up in bed with him, slouched comfortably against the pillows so Mason can rest his head on the soft curve of his belly. The human plays idly, sweetly with his hair, twirling damp curls around his fingers.

“I’m sweaty,” Mason halfheartedly protests. Juni’s stomach rises and falls beneath his head. It feels like being on the ocean, like being rocked to sleep on quiet waves.

“I don’t mind,” Juni murmurs, thumb stroking the shell of his ear.

Before he can think of anything to say to that, he’s being pulled under, dozing off between one breath and the next.