#its very on brand for me i just have to sit with it and decide if i really want to. and also it kinda needs some time it doesnt feel right-

[wall-eye]

I'm digitally pacing again. Goodnight

[theoccultz]

Your future spouse first impression of you ?

+ your first meeting details

Posted on : 19 nov , 2024

Pac #2♠️ of my future spouse series

All of my pacs are queer friendly

Since not everyone wants to get married , you could read for your s/o as well

Pics & dividers not mine , credits to their rightful owners @/saradika

Apologizes for any mistake

Let me know which pile you picked & dont be afraid to express your thoughts!!

Pile l . Pile ll . Pile lll.

Pile l .

The situation?

You are definately in an event together but you dont know each other for sure , you catch their attention first but its not very direct , this situation is very passive i'm seeing a scenario where someone actually saw the other person because of an accident its like you caught their attention by accident, this is an open space it could be a garden , an amusement park some sort of gathering or a wedding , there's people but they are minding their own business i do get a lot of chitter chatter so it could be a lively event . Yeah so back to the situation, i feel like maybe someone fell or something fell and you were around that object in that space so it all happened very naturally and the other person is prob sitting somewhere maybe a bar or some corner and they are bored asf ,this person seems to be drinking something as well , you both are well dressed they seem wasted and kind of intimidating to approach.

Why did you caught their attention?

Your person is in a time n space where they are not really feeling a lot hope or happiness, nothing bad has happened its just they are in a reflective/hermit mode and they dont have any energy or interest to interact with others, they could be going through their 12h transit so they are appearing to be very mysterious than they intend to , i'm seeing its love at first sight but you guys won't be that forward with each other your love story will slowly gets to its destination, so this person will for sure see you first but you are very much not aware , you on the other hand seems to be in a good mood , you could be picking up something for someone it could be a glass or some sort of utensil that made a loud noise lol or maybe someone tripped and fell & you kind of helped them out , you will feel as though someone is staring at you and yep you are right its them your fs , its not that awkward for both of you tbh you guys are feeling attracted to each other its like something clicked and you cant look away ,you guys will be sneakingly stealing glances throughout the night and did i mention? its late evening vibes , as i said this person will be feeling nervous its like they wanna say something do something they are very much on edge there's this fear of time , they will be contemplating on their thoughts should i go ? I dont know ? What to do ? Blah blah n stuff . Now onto my readers , you guys are feeling confident you are feeling brave in this situation you could be air signs or there's this Airy fairy vibes to you , you could be a scorpio moon as well or it could be just you are taking in everything and being in control of your emotions

Who will approach who first ?

I see there is some third party that will interfere like a friend or an acquaintance , they could be pulling you guys for a dance, for a game, just anything and thats when you will decide to approach them but its very subtle like oh i love what you're wearing? Navy blue ... its my favourite colour or you could just go and sit beside them ,So yeah those kind of small talk will lead to bigger things between you guys , you and your person are very similar to each other , you could come from same hometown you could be wearing same brand clothes , you could love cats and they could have a cat child as well . I do see you exchanging socials or trying to be with each other often . This person will feel rejuvenated its like starting a new chapter & anything thats new is exciting, Its very clear you like each other but yeah you guys will take time to confess 🙂‍↔️✋🏽

Okay cool people this is all i got for you , its veey simple yet interesting .

The song i got for you is also very "interesting" because in that music video they use this theme of falling in love at first sight and they meet each other by accident but its all destiny , i mean you can watch for yourself .

Song :

Thanks for reading !!

Pile ll .

The situation?

This is the story you will remember and laugh , you both will meet through other people and you both had to interfer , you're trying to create peace between two people who are creating conflict, you could be at a shop buying something and i think a fight will break out and its very stupid like you dont have change ? You are the store owner you get it for me , and the other person is like you cant talk to me like that give my stuff back , get out ......(I suck at giving examples so bear with me 🥲✌🏽) it could be as small as that or as big as you both are divorce lawyers fighting a case for your clients , but yeah you dont have anything to do with this situation but you guys had to intervene , when this situation gets over , you guys are kind of discussing/ bitching abt it like your ideologies match ... " Oh people are so stupid nowadays" ..... "yeah i agree " they fight on such small things like there's no understanding in the world *there is this Aquarius situation* where you guys are somehow jumping from topic to topic and its very logical , i'm literally hearing someone get political like yeah its the government they suck they increased taxes 😭🙌🏼blah blah

This is so funny lmao , you unknowingly kind of clicked , it is a situation that involves two strangers and something abt buying or returning is involved , i could describe another scenario for you guys to understand this , it could be a family conflict , your friend arguing abt the last donut , or people pushing each other to buy merch at the concert and its ridiculous because they are pushing each others button so you guys are kind of being the responsibile one is what i'm getting. I feel like the reason this situation is funny is also it could be your friend and their friend is arguing abt something and you guys are Falling in love like oh i didn't knew you love hot food , yeah i totally recommend this restaurant its so great and in the background its like a whole world war 8 waiting to happen.

Why did you caught their attention?

Because you were there and they found you attractive , i'm seeing this is the pile of my introvert readers or in this situation you could appear very calm n collected ,one moment you are shopping you are looking good and the next moment your friend is fighting and the next you are finding a stranger attractive like everything is happening so fast that too in a day lol , you will be attracted to them because they are your type and this person has some GOOD communication skills as well as great fashion sense, its something abt their eyes or hair that will attract you . Anyways i think you will be in the same locality and you will keep meeting each other , i didn't knew you existed kind of situation, so in the morning you guys are in the same park , you are studying in the same uni , you are volunteering for the same organisation, they are your new neighbour, stuff like that 🐰👏🏼

Who will approach who first ?

Them because they do not want to loose a great connection, they could be a leo mars so if they like someone they go all in to shower the person they love with attention and care , your energy seems very inward and their outward in this situation, they are the type of person who will be always ready to help you , your showers not working i got it ? You want notes , i got it , they will lookout for you , i do think you are away from home so you could meet them when you are in a transition period and you will admire them , there won't be any obstacles like you guys are meeting freely n stuff so you both are independent and content with your life ,you both are a great addition to each others life its like i found a great companion in you . This person is sweet but protective its those people who wants to take their lover everywhere and hold their hand all day , your fs has this energy of hold my hand and travel the world with me , they are also very sensual, humble , sweet , i feel like this person is enamoured by your beauty they feel like they needed you in their life and when they have you they're not gonna let go .

As everyone knows , i do have a movie addict roommate and his tip is to watch the movie "ishq" . So yeah let me know what the story's about .

Chanelled song :

Thank you for reading !!

Pile lll .

*Sorry for cussing so much in your reading, when i channel i just pick up on things as they are *

The situation?

You guys are my starboys/girls ,you are those people who have high standards in love , you will meet them when you both are not looking for something serious , this person will tempt you to think differently about love , I'm seeing you will meet them when you're rigid about your values , you are in a fierce energy its like you will go through this whole transformation where many people will not resonate with you anymore and you will be looking good af , you will be in an energy where you will attract people to you , this person is someone who's also on the same length as you , you both will be in this...." i'm single & i'm hot"..... energy , people would wanna be friends with you n stuff , i feel like you will also be a completely different person when you meet them , you were an introvert ? now you are not . You used to drink ? now you dont . So you are changing a lot of things about yourself in general & so is this person , since you guys are my ...." i dont need anyone "....pile you both will fail to resist one another , i took an oath ? Nevermind i'm breaking it , its like you know those 2 friends in a group who everyone knows they are fucking behind our back but no one dares to ask yeah that's you guys , people don't really need to know if you are into each other its VERY obvious , this is that person who does not care they show their crazy in love ,if they dont like it they're gonna say it , they don't want you to wear that they're gonna say it and they win everytime, i feel like you will give in ,you might be an independent bitch but with them you are not , this is kind of my dark soul people who have seen things in life , got their heart broken , they resonate with dark music , their eyes look intense , they give off intimidating vibes and this person is also very similar to you , its like unconsciously you wanted someone as intense as you , where your intensity does not scare em .....it turns em on... and this is that person who will be the result of your manifestation's .

Not to mistake this love as some stupid love , you guys will have a level of dedication to your relationship, you have principles set for your relationship, like we won't say stupid stuff to each other when we are angry n stuff . You guys have a lot of respect and loyalty for one another this is the typical they were made for each other & they found one another , this is all they needed . You guys are that couple who haunt each other like crazy , you guys don't mind waiting for one another , you won't leave each other ever and i think they will soothe this fear of your's (abondonment in love )

I will say this is the standard we all need in love ngl ❤️‍🔥✋🏽🙂‍↔️

Why did you caught their attention?

Bro this person is down bad , i am hearing crazy things anyways ......what about you does not attract them ? Everything, they were attracted to your light, shadow self ,crazy self they knew you were theirs the moment they met you i didn't clearly got where they met you but its some cafe i hear light jazz yeah you both were relaxed and this place is expensive asf , you could also meet them on a beach i see sea view and dim lights , you could wear red that day like there's wine , music , people this place is cold too , yeah so they were atrracted to your energy you stood out to them maybe you were the only one zoned out i dont see you being interested in whatever's going on in the background but everyone's enjoying it like its a whole DAMN mood , this person will be with their friends just observing you and honestly they could challenge you in your first meeting, you both are giving hints to each other back to back , like i know i have power over you , i know what i'm doing, i know you are flirting with me and its working, they are coming off as cheesy ,this could be a restaurant but you are alone and kind of exhausted, you could also go to this place after a hectic day, this person's style reflects a carefree rebellion nature , there is something different about em they could have tattoos they could wear earings even if they identify as a men , maybe paint their nails , maybe the women's also have short hair they could also hair dye their hair , piercings, they could wear something black on their eyes idk what you call them idk maybe they dress emo but yeah they look like they believe in breaking stereotypes. I feel like you on the other hand does not experiment with their looks n stuff but you will be during the time you meet this person , they might assume you are like them .

Who will approach whom first ?

Both of you are giving signals to each other , i do see someone behaving over the top here like they are risking it all *being very obvious in approaching the other * ahh idk i'm confused but their actions will flatter you for sure, its very clear to you , maybe there's a singer in that bar or place & this person will tell them to dedicate a song to you but there's a challenge here for sure , you think they are challenging you on something but its very playful and not hostile , it could also be a hookup but you will meet again and when you do its gonna be shocking maybe they are your senior or smth .

Song :

Thanks for reading!!

[evie-sturns]

ignore - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you've been in a mood all day, ignoring matt and giving him little attention, you won't tell him what's wrong so he has to fuck the answers out of you.

contains: smut, arguing, crying, swearing, rough!matt, slight overstimulation.

-----------------°°••....••°°----------------

i've been pissed and emotional all day, i'm not even sure what for anymore, everything that people do is pushing me to my limits, especially my boyfriend, matt.

3:39pm

"c'mon we've gotta go." matt says, tapping my arm as i sit with my arms folded on the edge of matts bed. "i'm not going!" i raise my voice at matt, my eyebrows raised as i roll my eyes.

"chris and nick are waiting for us, we've booked the top golf session, we are going its for the celebration of nicks brand come on." matt says with a dad like tone.

i shake my head, "i don't want to, my head hurts." i say in a whiny tone, somehow on the verge of tears, matt lets out an exhausted sigh, tears start to fall down my cheek as i rub my eyes.

"why are you crying." matt says in a calm tone with a sigh. "go away!" i groan, matt walks out of the room shaking his head, he closes the door behind him.

"i don't know whats going on with her, im sorry nick." i hear him say to his brothers outside the door, i sniffle as i flop down on the bed behind me.

6:12pm

i've been enjoying the empty house by myself for the past few hours, i hear the triplets pull into the driveway before knocking on the door, i unlock the door and they all walk in, i give nick a hug, before asking chris how it went. he instantly starts to yap about his golf shots.

after a handful of minutes chris decides we should all watch a movie, matt tries saying something to me but i simply ignore him,

"y/n." matt repeats himself, i shoot him a side eye before continuing to speak to chris.

nick and chris pile onto the couch, matt sits down on the other side of the plush couch, i walk over to matt, sitting down on his lap and laying down against him, my back pressed against his torso and the back of my head resting on his shoulder.

matts chest rises and falls with each breath, lifting me up and down subtly.

9:29

the movie has been playing for over 3 hours, i've shifted around slightly against matt a couple of times, but haven't said anything to him.

i let out a heavy sigh matt taps my waist before whispering in my ear "please talk to me, you've been acting very off today."

i scoff "i've been acting off?" i whisper back, an attitude clear in my voice.

"yes you have, been acting like that, bratty." matt replies, i stay silent after that.

"talk to me about it." he says again, i shake my head no.

the closing scene of the movie finishes, chris and nick get up, "im headed to bed, see you guys in the morning." chris says with a yawn, "bye chris!" i say chirpily.

nick stands up, "see you!" he says running over and hugging me before leaving the living room.

matt and i sit in silence for a minute or so before matt pushes me off his lap, "come with me." matt says, i stare straight into his eyes, not moving nor speaking.

"come. with. me." matt raises his voice, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to his bedroom. he slams the door and locks it vigourously.

i sit down on the edge of his bed, fiddling with my nails. matt storms over to me, picking me up then throwing me back down on the bed, i fall straight on my back, my head landing in his pillows, one specific pillow having a stupid pug on it.

matt rips off his cute crewneck sweater, my eyes drawn to his tattooed arms.

his two hands firmly grip the waistband of my sweatpants, before yanking them and my panties down in one go. he unbuttons his jeans before pulling me by my ankles towards the edge of the bed.

"matt-" i start, he cuts me off, "dont start."

his boxers drop to the floor before he stands at the edge of the bed, i wrap my legs around his waist. matt stares into my eyes, asking for permission, i stay silent, just staring into his eyes.

"use your words and tell me what the fuck you want." he almost demands, his right hand now firmly gripping my waist.

i can't deny the fact i need him, the sudden switch in mood turns me on, along side matt being angry which he is never like, hes never fucked me while hes mad.

"just fuck me then if your so desperate." i mumble, matt lets out an exasperated laugh before lining himself up with me, slamming into me, his tip bruising my cervix.

i let out a yelp, "fuck!" matt starts to pound in and out of me, not showing signs of slowing down.

he grips my waist with both hands, his fingers digging into my skin as small grunts fall from matts lips.

the sounds coming out of me echo throughout the room, resulting in matt slamming a hand over my mouth, the cold metal of his rings pressing against my cheek.

"gonna act like this whole day? think you can act like that?" matt breathes out, his left hand which is still firmly placed on my waist tightens. matts breathing picks up,

im starting to consider always acting like 'this' so that matt fucks me like this again, i dont think ive ever had better sex in my life.

he repeatedly hits a spot inside of me which is driving me closer, and closer to my orgasm.

"awnser. me." matt says, staring into my squinted eyes, he removes his hand from my mouth, reaching down and brushing my clit.

"i- i didn't mean to" i say cluelessly, my mind completely fogged as i clench around him.

the pit in my stomach realeases as i orgasm, matts thrusts stop, after all this not wanting to overstimulate me.

"gonna talk to me now sweetheart?" matt says his voice soft but his breaths heavy.

i scoff with an eye roll, matt raises his eyebrows before thrusting into me again, i wince, "sensitive.." i say as matt presses on my clit, he starts to thrust again, waiting for me to speak.

i let out loud moans as matt starts to pick up his thrusts "please-" i groan, "matt-"

"i'm sorry- fuck" i say, my thighs dropping from his waist and squeezing together, matt pulls out, finishing with a whimper and painting my stomach with white streaks.

"oh my god-.." i groan, covering my forehead with my arms as i wipe away the few tears that fell from intensity.

"are you okay?" matt says, picking me up off the bed and carrying me towards the bathroom.

i hum in response, "was it too much? did i hurt you?" matt asks, worry in his voice as he places me down on the edge of his bath.

he bends down between my thighs, dabbing a towel gently against my skin. he walks out of the room, shortly coming back now wearing sweatpants and a white wifebeater tank top.

he brings me over the shorts i was wearing previously, and one of his black shirts. he pulls them onto me gently, his cold finger tips brushing against my skin.

he picks me up again, carrying me over to his bed and flicking off the overhead light, leaving his dim lamp on which illuminates the room just enough. he lays down on the bed, i lay ontop of him.

we lay in silence for about a minute before matt breaks it "are you okay? i mean you've seemed really off today and i should've talked with ya." matt says, running a hand through his hair.

"im sorry." i sigh, "no no, don't say that." matt replies instantly, "i'm not actually sure whats going on, i think i'm just a bit hungry" i say quietly,

matt laughs, "i did all of that for you to just be hungry?" he jokes, rubbing his eyes with a smile as his ears go red.

"i don't know!!" i laugh back, matt wraps his arms around my waist as i lay on top of him.

i suddenly spring up, "i'll be right back." i say, jogging out of the room towards nicks room, i knock twice before opening the door, nicks laying on the bed on his phone,

"you okay?" nick asks, i walk over to him, giving him a hug.

"im really sorry about not coming to topgolf nick, i was in a mood and i am extremely happy about your brand."

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

[senascoop]

☁︎ . , TELL YOU WHAT? , S.JY !

PAIRING: fiance ! jake × drunk ! afab reader. SYNOPSIS: getting drunk in hopes to escape your engagement and the sadness that came with it—you turned to a stranger or maybe... your fiance. GENRE: fluff, drabble. WORD COUNT: 541. [LIBRARY]

♫︎ REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED

You had thought sneaking out of your engagement party to get drunk in the garden was a brilliant idea. A freeing, rebellious decision. No one would notice, you had convinced yourself. But as usual, life had other plans—and so did Jake, your brand-new fiancé, who somehow found you curled up on the grass, your pristine dress now speckled with dirt.

“There you are,” he sighed, sitting down beside you with a mix of relief and mild exasperation. “You do realize there’s an entire party looking for you, right?”

You waved him off lazily, blinking up at the night sky. “The stars don’t judge,” you slurred, the alcohol working its magic, “unlike Aunt Minji and her ‘oh, so you’re the bride?’ looks.”

Jake chuckled softly, brushing a speck of grass off your shoulder. “Well, Aunt Minji doesn’t have to marry you. I do.”

You turned to him with a mock glare, your cheeks flushed—not just from the wine. “You don’t have to,” you said, hiccupping slightly. “But if you want to, you should know I have a secret.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning in playfully. “Do tell, my mysterious fiancée.”

You sat up dramatically, nearly toppling over in the process. “I weigh over 45 kilograms!” you announced, as if it were the most shocking revelation in the world. “And—and,” you added, your voice dropping into a whisper, “my chest is still flat!”

Jake froze, caught somewhere between disbelief and laughter. But it was the way your bottom lip wobbled, your eyes welling up with tears of tragic sincerity, that pushed him over the edge. He burst out laughing.

“You’re laughing?!” you cried, your voice a mix of betrayal and drunken indignation. Tears spilled over as you sniffled. “You don’t have it either! How dare you judge me?”

That was it. Jake had to press his hand over his mouth to stop the laughter threatening to spill out, but he couldn’t quite manage it.

“Okay, okay,” he said, scooting closer as you dramatically flopped backward onto the grass, staring up at the sky like a tragic heroine in a period drama. “You’re right. I don’t have it either. We’re even.”

You sniffled again, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your very expensive dress. “We’re both... flat,” you mumbled, your voice quivering. “What a sad couple we make.”

Jake sighed, leaning over you, his tone softening as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Hey, it’s not sad,” he said, his voice gentle but laced with amusement. “It’s… balanced. And you’re perfect, even if you’re drunk out of your mind right now.”

You squinted up at him, your lips curling into a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”

Jake smirked, offering you his hand. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m saying it because you’re the funniest drunk I’ve ever met. Now come on, let’s get you cleaned up before Aunt Minji sends a search party.”

Reluctantly, you let him pull you up, leaning against him as you stumbled. “Fine,” you muttered. “But only because you admitted you’re flat too.”

Jake laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. “Deal. Now let’s get back before you decide to share any more of our secrets with the stars.”

© senascoop | tumblr

[bet-on-me-13]

Ellie isn't allowed to travel alone Anymore

So! Ellie was raised in a Lab by a Genuine Bonefied Supervillain. She was raised to be a Villain as well, so her Moral Conpass is a little skewed.

Sure she *mostly* knows what is right and wrong from Danny's quick lesson before her Adventure around the Country, but she still has trouble separating what is moral and what is not from time to time.

So it's really no surprise that the moment she left Amity Park she somehow ended up being branded a Villain.

Look, it's not her fault she didn't know not to attack the flying guy in Blue Spandex when he approached her! One of Danny's biggest warnings shen she left had been Stranger Danger! She did what any 12 year old girl would have done when approached by a strange Older Man!

Its also not her fault that her powers (being Magic based), managed to affect him! She didn't even use her full power! (She maybe should have kicked him in a different place tho...she hopes he wasn't planning on having kids...)

So she did what her instincts told her to do. She took any money he had on him and ran the hell away!

It wasn't until she was 2 cities over when she saw a newspaper titled, "Little Villain Girl Mugs Superman in Broad Daylight!", that she realized she may have screwed up...

After that, she really had no excuse.

She knew that she probably shouldn't have kept Mugging the Heroes who approached her, but she wasn't a Fenton for nothing! Her Family Motto had always been "Commit to the Bit", and she was gonna stick to it!

So when the Fast Red Guy tried to tie her up, she phased off all his clothes and took off with his money (not the mask, she knew enough not to take that off)

And when the Grumpy Bat Guy tried to corner her with some weird papers he pulled out of his Belt, she just distracted him while her clone picked his pockets and made off with the wheels of his Car. That one made her a pretty penny!

The flying Green Guy was fun, his attacks were just throwing Ghost Candy (pure willpower) at her. He did stop doing do after she nicked his fancy talking Ring however, but it was fun while it lasted

Then she came across a Orange Fish Guy, and he actually seemed nice enough. But she was committing to the Bit, so she took the fancy Trident he had and sold it at a nearby Pawn Shop for some extra cash. He would probably be able to find it, that's why she chose a nearby location.

All in All, her Adventure had been really fun! So she decided to visit Amity Park again to tell Danny all about it!

...

Aquaman walked into the meeting room of the Watchtower, a very frustrated look in his eye.

Barry spoke up first, "Oh! I know that look in your eye! She got to you too didn't she!"

Arthur just glared at Barry for a second before walking over to his Chair, sitting down with a thump. "She is certainly a tricky child."

"What did she take this time?" Clark asked.

"..mttrident..." Arthur grumbled out quickly.

"What was that?" Asked Barry with a twinkle in his eye. He heard it, but he wanted everybody else to know.

"She took my trident, Okay!" Arthur shouted out.

"I feel ya man." Responded Hal, "At least with me she threw it back at me when she realized it wasn't making 'candy' anymore. What did she do with yours?"

"She sold it at a Pawn Shop!" Arthus yelled in frustration, "She managed to steal one of the most Powerful Magical Weapons in the world, the Symbol of the entire Atalantean Royal Bloodline, and she sold it and a Pawn Shop!"

"...how much did she get for it?" Asked Hal.

At this, Aquaman just collapsed to the table and groaned.

...

Alternatively she could have just kept all those things, and gradually built up a collection of all the JLA's most treasured possessions.

She has Supermans Wallet, not very important to him but it was her first mugging

She has Batmans Utility Belt (trackers removed) along with his Tires

She took Flashes Costume Ring (his civilian clothes still stuck inside)

She took Green Lanterns ring as well, but unfortunately it managed to escape after a few days. It was feisty.

And her crowning Jewel is the Trident she took from Aquaman.

(She avoided WW, cause she likes her too much to steal anything from her)

[ippi2un]

♥︎—L&DS REACTION TO YOU BAKING SOMETHING FOR THEM

But it turns out tasting horrible.

pairings: xavier x you, zayne x you, rafayel x you, sylus x you

note: i loved making this esp rafayels and xaviers 😍 but mf why did u mess up their treats....😒😒😒😒 (btw yes ik u didnt bake smth for Xavier but idc u made it either way) ... AND TUMBLR RANDOMLY DECIDED TO POST THIS???? EVEN THOUGH I DIDNT FINISH??? SORRY IF ITS BAD

After a long, sweltering day, you and Xavier decide to chill out at your home. It was afternoon and very hot, so you decided, why not make a little treat for you and Xavier?

As Xavier peacefully dozed off on your couch in the living room, you started to whip up a masterpiece: Banana Icecream. As you were beginning to make the masterpiece, you get a phonecall from a scam caller. They kept calling and calling, and it was annoying so you picked up the phone, deciding to give them a taste of true annoyance.

"Hello?" You say, your irritation barely concealed.

"Yes, hi! You just won a brand new super flying car!" The other person on the line said, their voice too enthusiastic.

You roll your eyes, playing along.

"Oh my! Really? That's so amazing, how can I claim it?" You say, grabbing a bowl and setting it on the counter.

"Just provide us with your credit card information."

"Hm? Why would I need to give you that..." You say, feigning innocence.

"Just for verification and stuff."

Suppressing a laugh, you reply, "Okay! My credit card number is..." and you began to give random numbers as you made the icecream. You put in milk, and heavy cream was supposed to be next. But in your distracted state, you added sour cream instead. Alot.

"Um, excuse me, the credit card you are listing is too long. You put too much numbers. Are you...sure about that?" The person on the line said, sounding confused.

"Oh my bad... I have alzeheimers or something." You say, holding in your laugh as you added 3 bananas to the mix and mushed them in with the sugar, vanilla extract, milk, and sour cream.

The person ended up hanging up. You laughed out loud, putting your phone aside before sighing and staring at your icecream mix. It looked wonderful to you.

You put it in the freezer, and after about 3 hours you retrieve it with great excitement. You eagerly place a few scoops into a nice bowl, before sprinting to Xavier, excited for him to try your "masterpiece."

You crouch down near the sleeping Xavier, before poking his cheek slightly.

"Xavier...Xavier. Wake up. I made banana icecream." You whisper.

After a few tries Xavier arised, sitting up slowly while rubbing his eyes.

"It looks really nice...thank you." He said, grabbing the bowl and spoon.

He scooped out a spoonful and brought it to his mouth.

The first taste was sweet, just as he'd expected with banana ice cream. But as it melted on his tongue, the sourness crept in, catching him off guard. His eyes widened slightly, and your smile grew more. He swallowed and took another bite, trying to figure out the peculiar flavor profile. You held your breath, waiting for his reaction.

"Hmm," Xavier said thoughtfully, his sleepy brain trying to process the unexpected twist. "It's nice."

He thought it was a new trend or recipe for banana icecream, so he shrugged it off, thinking that it was actually supposed to taste good, and that his tastebuds are just weird.

"Good!" You reply happily, getting ready to taste the icecream as well.

Xavier nodded, taking another spoonful. "I like how tangy it tastes. Its a new combination for banana-"

"TANGY?!" You yelled in disbelief, dropping your spoon.

Your eyes grew wide as saucers as you realized your mistake.

Xavier, unminding, took another spoonful, his eyebrows furrowed. "Isnt it how its supposed to be?"

"NO?!" You sighed. "Wait, what if the milk went bad?" You say with panic.

"No, expired milk does not taste like this." Xavier said calmly.

"Xavier how do you know that."

Xavier ignored your question. "This icecream honestly tastes like sour cream."

You frown. Sour cream?

And then you realize. You did indeed put sour cream. You cursed yourself, regretting that you picked up that stupid scam call for fun, which got you distracted.

"I'm really sorry Xavier, I got distracted because I was fooling around with a scam caller that wouldn't stop calling me." You sigh, grabbing the bowl from his hand.

"No." He took the bowl back. "It isn't that bad, I can still eat it. Thank you." He smiled softly, before absolutely devouring the banana icecream.

You gaze at the time, and its one hour before Zayne arrives from his shift. You certainly miss him, and to wait just an hour more was something you didn't want to believe. How else would you pass your time?

You abruptly stood up. You decided to make a treat for Zayne, because he's hardworking and you love him dearly. You rushed to the kitchen, excited with your idea: triple layered chocolate cake with raspberry filling and a silky vanilla lemon buttercream frosting.

The next hour was filled with several ingredients scattered around, with utensils meticulously beating into the bowls. A pinch of this, a sprinkle of that, you were so into it. You measured with the utmost precision—because who wouldn't? This is a treat for the most hardworking cardiac surgeon ever.

You poured the chocolate cake batter into 3 smallish round cake pans, mesmerized by the elegance of the batter falling smoothly into the pan. After, you opened the preheated oven, met by a gust of hot air. You set the cakes in, before closing the oven with a contented sigh.

Time for the raspberry compote. You threw raspberries into the pan, adding some sugar and a little of lemon juice, mixing it. You finished, tasting its rich flavor.

Now is time for the vanilla frosting. Grabbing the butter, powdered sugar, vanilla extract, and vanilla, you were excited to make what you thought was the most important part for the cake. As you were done mixing the butter and powdered sugar and vanilla, it was time to squeeze half a lemon.

But Tara had to call you just this moment. You groaned, but answered either way, and started chattering away. You were so immersed in the call that you did not add one, not two, but three whole lemon juices into the frosting, forgettng the delicate balance between sweet and tart.

And when you started mixing it, you questioned yourself on why the frosting was more on the liquidy side—and you didn't get the answer because you were still on that damn call with Tara.

The timer dinged and you almost jumped onto the oven in excitement. You sprinted to the oven, taking out the decadent, rich smelling chocolate cakes. You put all 3 layers next to eachother, before lining the circumference of the cake with the vanilla lemon frosting as a barrier for the raspberry compote. You did this for all three layers, assembled them, then applied the rest of the frosting to the outside of the cake.

You had to step back and appreciate how absolutely majestic the cake looked. Wonderful.

Just in time, Zayne arrived, closing the door behind him softly. You rushed to him, giving him a big hug, to which he returned with equal love.

"Hm? Whats this delightful smell?" Zayne's soothing voice said, his eyes staring towards the kitchen.

"I decided to make a little something for you. Come." You smile, taking his hand and presenting him the almighty cake you made him.

He smiled slightly, pressing a soft kiss to your head. "You didn't have to, love," he said, heading to the kitchen. You followed him as he sliced a piece of the cake. The vibrant raspberry filling was slightly oozing out, which made Zayne's mouth water. The room was silent as he grabbed a fork and took the first bite. The reaction was slow, but you thought you saw a flicker of surprise in his face. He didnt say anything.

You panicked. "Is there something wrong?"

He stared at you, taking another bite slowly. "Its...different."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Different how?"

Zayne chewed thoughtfully, his eyes searching yours for an explanation. "The filling," he said finally, "It's...very lemony."

You blinked slowly, trying to figure out why it was that way. "But I only put half a lemon..." You said, trying to remember what the hell went wrong.

You peered into the trashcan to confirm that you only used half a lemon—but you were shocked to see 4 entire lemons in the trash.

"Oh my-" you facepalm yourself. "I used four. Im pretty sure I got distracted while Tara was calling me."

Zayne had a warm smile on his face. "Well, atleast the sourness woke me up."

You sighed, smiling back. "Im really sorry, ill make it right next time."

Zayne nodded, setting the fork aside. "How about we make another one now?" Zayne was really craving it, and wanted to help you do it again.

You smile widely. "Really?! Okay! Lets do it."

And so you both join eachother in the kitchen, whipping up the masterpiece cake, and this time, you added the right amount of lemon juice.

Rafayel was painting over at your home, and he has been working hard ever since the morning. You decided to create a delicacy for him, because why not? You decided that a blueberry cheesecake will do, but you didn't know the cream cheese at the store you bought would be...expired.

Your kitchen was busy, with you dashing around, carefully combining the ingredients together along with the evil cream cheese. The aroma of blueberries filled the air as you cooked it in a pan with some sugar and lemon juice to turn it into a blueberry compote. You mixed in half of the compote into the cream cheese mix, reserving the other half for after you bake it for you to spread it out on top. You finally add some vanilla extract into the cream cheese mix which you almost forgot. But that didnt matter. Because it would still taste bad. But you wouldn't know that...yet.

As you waited for the cheesecake to finish, you decided to clean up the counter a bit.

As soon as the alarm went off, you dashed to the oven to get the cheesecake out. You wait for it to cool down before spreading the rest of the blueberry compote all on top of the cheesecake. There was some compote left, so you just set it to the side.

You heard footsteps coming, and you turned around to see Rafayel, his hands blemished with colorful paint.

"Ooh, what's this delightful aroma?" He said, standing next to you and staring down at the innocent looking cheesecake.

"Blueberry cheesecake! I made it just for you~"

"Oh my, thank you for this~ I'll finish this in seconds." He said, eagerly grabbing a spoon.

"Wait! Let me slice it first, you impatient fish." You said, rolling your eyes before cutting a slice and setting it on the plate.

You handed it to Rafayel, who took a bite with dramatic flair.

The first taste sent a symphony of flavors across his palate. As he swallowed, his expression shifted from one of delight to a grimace of horror. The cream cheese betrayal left him surprised.

"Oh. Ohhh. Ohhhhhh." Rafayel set the spoon down, his eyes wide.

Your smile froze. "What's wrong?"

He ran away to the bag of sugar set aside on the kitchen counter, pouring some in his mouth to get rid of the pungent taste. It didnt work. He frantically ran to the vanilla extract, and took a good swig before coughing.

"Help...me..." He coughed out.

You watched in shock as Rafayel stumbled back to the counter, his eyes watering. You took a tentative bite yourself, and your face mirrored his. The cheesecake was absolutely TERRIBLE.

"What the hell..? Why is this bad?" You say with shock and confusion, upset with how things went.

"Please...I think the cream cheese is expired...oh..." He said his expression still grimaced yet he chuckled a little.

Your eyes widened. "Expired?"

They both looked at each other for a moment, before bursting into laughter that filled the room The sound was infectious, and soon you were both leaning against the kitchen counter, holding your stomachs and gasping for breath.

"Well, I suppose it's...an acquired taste," Rafayel managed to say between giggles, wiping a tear from his eye.

You nodded, trying to regain your composure. "I'll just throw it out and start again or something."

"No, no," he protested, still smiling. "We can't let a little sourness ruin the moment. Besides, I've had worse."

He took another bite. He chewed and swallowed with exaggerated effort, patting his chest as if to keep the food down. "See? It's not that bad."

He said that right before he ran to the trashcan, spitting it out. You shake your head as he once again frantically scrambles to take another swig of the strong vanilla extract.

"Oh my stomach...."

"You barely even digested anything yet. You only swallowed one bite."

"Oh..oh my...ohhh....ahhh.."

"Well, i have some blueberry compote left." You took the pan which has a little amount left. "This will be good atleast. Open your mouth~"

He opened his mouth as you spooned in a generous amount.

The taste was heavenly. He closed his eyes, savoring the flavor, and let out a contented sigh.

"I feel like a new person. Oh, I dont feel sick anymore. I feel good."

You giggled, watching Rafayel's theatrics with affection. "I'm so sorry about the cheesecake," you said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Rafayel waved it off, his grin never fading. "Don't be. It's not every day someone tries to kill me with dessert."

The room filled with more laughter, the tension from the failed cheesecake dissipating quickly.

At Sylus's wonderful home, you had the entire grand kitchen to yourself. You wanted to create something delightful for Sylus, something decadent yet simple to make. You once made eclairs for Sylus, but it turns out you mixed up sugar with salt, which left you a little embarassed and disappointed. You settled on a chocolate soufflé because it was simple, yet rich and filling.

The aroma of cocoa powder filled the kitchen, measuring each ingredient precisely and whispering sweet nothings to the eggs and flour. This was so easy to make, and so hard to mess up.

Or so you thought. Because you made the most simple mistake of replacing sugar with salt. Again. The bag of sugar was next to the bag of salt, therefore, you just ruined the chocolate soufflé. Yet you continued to mix in the ingredients, unknowing of the certain imposter in the batter.

You put it in the oven gently, before closing the oven door. You sigh, leaning against the countertop, taking a well deserved break. You smile to yourself, imagining how pleased Sylus would be with the soufflé you've made him.

You take it out after its desired baking time. It looks astonishing, smells fragrant. Even Sylus got out of his room, taking a break from his little work things, but it was really just because of the rich smell of chocolate.

"I smell alot of chocolate," He says, smiling. "Seems like you're having much fun in my kitchen." He walked over, staring at the chocolate soufflé.

"This is for you, Sylus." You smile, handing him the warm chocolate soufflé, which looked absolutely scrumptious in that small ramekin.

"What's the occasion?" He smirked, taking it from your hand, grabbing a spoon.

"No occasion," you playfully winked. "Just felt like making a little something for the most charming rogue in the world."

He chuckled, getting a spoonful.

"This, is a chocolate soufflé to remember." You said with pride.

The words hung in the air as Sylus took a tentative bite, his eyes never leaving yours. The taste hit him like a sledgehammer, not the sweet symphony of flavors he had been expecting, but an assault of saltiness. He swallowed slowly. It brought him memories from the last time you made the atrocious eclairs for him.

"Indeed, it is a chocolate souffle to remember." He smirked, setting the spoon down. "Tell me, are you trying to get in my daily dose of sodium?"

You looked at him quizzically, your smile not wavering. "What do you mean?"

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "It's a tad...salty. Did you mix up the sugar with salt...again?"

Your eyes widened in horror, and you slapped your hand to your forehead. "Oh no, not again!"

He broke up into laughter, setting the soufflé aside before pulling you in for a hug.

"Don't worry, sweetie, this just serves as a reminder that nothing is as sweet as you."

[wordstome]

könig as the nutcracker 🥹🥹

you just brought some terrible sleeping beast out of me, anon.

nutcracker prince König x fem reader (mostly gender neutral but you're wearing a dressing gown)

tw: mouse murder???

He's a very odd looking nutcracker, all things considered, but you can't take your eyes off of him.

"If it's a nutcracker why does it have that stupid veil over its face?" Your brother asks, noisily crunching candies between his molars. You glare at him, both for the rude remark and for chewing with his mouth open.

"This is a special one," your aunt gushes. "He's based off of a legendary soldier who never showed his face on the battlefield. One of a kind, from a specialty toy shop.”

"How interesting..." You muse, gently rubbing the fabric of the veil between your fingers. It's sturdy fabric, but still soft to the touch.

"He was probably ugly as hell," your brother declares. You swat him, and he only cackles and gets up to graze at some more sweets.

"Maybe you should try covering that ugly mug up once in a while," you call after him. He pelts you with a walnut shell.

Your aunt shakes her head fondly. "This one's not just decorative," she says. "He's a real nutcracker by Steinbach."

You look at her, wide-eyed. "So he can crack nuts?"

She nods and tosses you a hazelnut. "Try it."

You lift the wooden man's veil a little to put the hazelnut in his mouth. You could just pull the whole thing up and out of the way, but that feels almost...forbidden? You're not sure why you feel this way—he's just a piece of wood, after all, and he probably doesn't even have anything painted on underneath the veil other than those vibrant blue eyes. But even so, you're hesitant to unmask him.

Cracking the nut works like a charm, though, and some childish excitement bubbles up inside you as the remnants of the cracked hazelnut spill into your palm. "That's incredible!" you gush, running your thumb over the nutcracker's lacquered uniform.

"What do you mean incredible, that's what nutcrackers are for." Your brother returns, a few walnuts rolling around in his palm. He holds his other hand out. "Give him here."

"No. You called him ugly, so he's mad at you," you say, teasing him by holding the nutcracker out of his reach.

Your brother rolls his eyes. "Give it here, you little shit."

"Crack your own nuts," you shoot back. "This is my nutcracker."

He makes another grab for it, and this time he manages to grab the nutcracker's arm. It's only a lighthearted tussle between siblings as you shove at your brother and he refuses to let go of the nutcracker's arm—until it's not.

A terrible snapping of breaking wood causes you to gasp. The two of you stumble away from each other from the force, your brother holding a tiny wooden arm in his hand. He's just pulled it clean off. On closer inspection, your idiot brother has somehow managed to Hulk-rip the arm piece off of the piece that fits inside the socket. "This is a brand new nutcracker, how did you fuck it up?!" you cry.

"Hey, you should have—" Your brother takes one look at your expression and decides not to give you a hard time. "Look, I'm sorry. I was too rough on it. Sit tight for a second." You sit there, numbly staring at the pieces of your poor nutcracker. Really, it's your fault too—why didn't you just let him have the damn thing?

And why is this upsetting you so much? The nutcracker's just a decoration, albeit one with a little more function than most. You feel a sort of attraction to this little wooden man in your hand, though. Maybe it's because his unique design is interesting, or maybe it's because you're intrigued by the idea of a masked soldier who never shows his face. Either way, he was your gift anyway, so it's not that unusual that you're attached to him...right?

"Here, let me see him." Your brother's back, but to your horror, he's holding a pair of needle-nose pliers. "Absolutely not," you respond, jumping up from where you were sitting on the floor. "You are not getting anywhere near my nutcracker with those things. You're just going to fuck it up even more."

"It'll be fiiine," he insists, clicking the pliers open and closed like some maniacal toy surgeon. You're not sure you like the devious glint in his eye. Your brother's a nice guy for the most part, but sometimes he gets this look in his eye that you imagine Dr Frankenstein must have had when he was assembling his creation.

You hold the nutcracker and his detached arm protectively to your chest. "I'll figure out how to fix him in the morning with glue or something," you insist. "I don't need you poking around with pliers and splintering the wood."

"Are you sure? I am sorry, for what it's worth."

You wave him off. You're still kind of mad at him, but you're both adults. You'll live. "Don't worry about it. I think I'm going to head to bed soon, anyway."

"You should keep his arm with him, dear," you aunt pipes up. She had gone into the kitchen during the whole ordeal, but had probably heard everything go down. "Tape it to his side or something. You wouldn't want to lose it."

That's a good idea, you muse, examining your poor amputated nutcracker. You're just about to take her suggestion when you get an idea.

Your brother checks in with you later, right before he goes to bed as well. "You can't be serious," he says. "You made him an arm sling?"

You tie the knot on the little scrap of cloth around the little wooden man's arm nice and snug. "Oh, I'm dead serious," you say. "Doesn't he look cute?"

Your brother lets out a resigned sigh. "Yeah. Sure."

The rest of the evening is relatively uneventful. You put the nutcracker in your room, right on top of the dresser, while you go about your bedtime routine. It always brings you a bit of joy to walk out of the bathroom and see him there, standing tall and proud.

Well, your evening would have been uneventful...had you not bolted awake in bed an hour or two later.

You're groggy and confused, trying to figure out what the hell is going on, when you hear the cacophony of noise. It sounds like footsteps, dozens upon dozens of them, stampeding through your walls. And then the mice show up.

They crawl up from the corners and the floorboards, swarming across your room. You're too terrified to move or even scream out, sure that you must be having some terrible nightmare or hallucination.

And then your nutcracker moves.

You're absolutely positive now that you must be dreaming, watching frozen from your bed as your nutcracker leaps down from your dresser as if he's a living, breathing man and beginning to fight the mice. And he's even...talking?

"Finally, some worthy adversaries!" you hear him cry. You gape at this bloodthirsty little soldier as he beats through mouse after mouse with his tiny sword.

It's an impossible battle, you think. There's no way he can take all those mice alone, and with one injured arm aside...you're usually pretty squeamish when it comes to dubious little animals, but you can't just leave your nutcracker to be overwhelmed. Besides, this is all a dream, so nothing matters, right?

There's one mouse, larger than the others, who's at the back of the pack, squeaking as if giving orders. You're having quite a wild dream, honestly, because the mouse is even wearing a little crown. Like a king, you think with some amusement. You reach over the edge of your bed to pick the mouse up by the scruff.

You're not quite sure what happens next. One moment, the mouse is chattering angrily at you, the next you're on the floor. At first you think you've simply lost your balance and fallen onto the floor, but when you scramble to your feet, you nearly fall over again as you take in your surroundings.

You've shrunk.

Your bedroom is cavernous above your head, your bedposts and furniture as tall as skyscrapers. And worse still, the mice are huge too: the once palm-sized mouse king is now as large as you are, sneering down at you from his snout. You didn't even know mice could sneer.

You yelp and throw yourself to the side to dodge one of the mice lunging at you. "It's time to wake up," you mutter to yourself through clenched teeth. "It would be really really nice to wake up right about now...!"

The mice are unrelenting, a vicious gleam in their eyes as they nip at your heels. They manage to corner you against a piece of furniture, snapping their jaws menacingly. All you can think to do is pray as they draw ever closer, their breath hot as they crowd around you—

A sword neatly lops off the head of one of the mice in front of you.

You gasp and look upwards to see your nutcracker looming above you, his sword gleaming in the low light of your bedroom. He's incredibly menacing at this size, his veil becoming intimidating rather than charming. You're far smaller than him now—if he had been a normal sized man, he would have easily cleared six feet. His eyes are vibrant and intense, staring down at you for a brief moment before they turn back towards his enemy.

You sit there, stock-still in awe as you watch him mow through his adversaries. It takes you a moment to realize you probably shouldn't be hanging around and gawping. Good thing, too, because your knight in shining lacquer is too distracted to notice he's being snuck up on. The larger mouse is creeping up behind him, a wicked glint in its eye.

"No!" you cry. Thinking fast, you pull off your slipper and chuck it at the mouse's head, stunning it. I can't believe that actually worked, you think.

You have to give your nutcracker some credit, his reflexes are wicked-sharp. In a single heartbeat, he's run the mouse king through with his sword. He cuts an imposing figure, his eyes sharp and deadly. But there's a sort of glee in them as well, the kind of thing that should make you uneasy.

It doesn't.

The rest of the mice, seeing their leader fallen, beat a hasty retreat, tugging the corpses of their fallen comrades along with them. You watch them, fascinated, until all that remains of the bloody conflict are a few tiny pools of blood streaked along your floorboards.

"I must thank you," comes the voice of your nutcracker. You look at him, unsure of what to say. You're welcome for throwing a shoe at a giant mouse to keep it from killing you?

"I...of course," is what eventually comes out. You smooth out your dressing gown in a futile effort to look presentable. "I couldn't let him hurt you."

The nutcracker tilts his head curiously. "You don't know me."

"Of course I do. You're my nutcracker," you say, instantly feeling silly once the words leave your mouth. You just received him as a gift, and you only just found out he was sentient anyway. You don't know why you feel so protective...

He shifts his injured arm, the sling still in place. "You bound my arm, as well."

You flush with embarrassment. "I-it was the least I could do," you stammer. "I shouldn't have let my brother do that. Really, it was my own fault—" Your words die in your throat as the nutcracker moves in close to you, so close that you can feel his body heat. Since when did he have body heat?

"Pretty," he murmurs under his breath. You stare at him, dumbfounded. Is your nutcracker...hitting on you?

Suddenly, you snap back to your senses. "Oh my God," you exclaim, staring down at yourself and then back towards your surroundings. "I'm still small. And I haven't woken up yet. Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming. Please tell me I'm dreaming." You pinch your skin, letting out a small exclamation when it hurts. But you still don't wake up.

"Hmm...you won't solve your predicament that easily, little one," the nutcracker muses.

"Wha—do you know how to fix this?"

"I have a hunch," he responds, brow furrowing. You hadn't noticed eyebrows on him when you were examining him earlier in the evening, you note.

"Do tell."

"You've had a curse placed on you, but I don't know how to break it. I do, however, know someone who might know how."

"Well then take me to them!" You stare at him beseechingly. You watch as several indecipherable emotions run through his eyes, then he nods.

You visibly relax. "Thank you."

"You'll have to trust me. You may find the whole process a little...fantastical."

"More fantastical than my nutcracker coming to life and fighting an army of mice on my bedroom floor?" you ask, cocking an eyebrow. His eyes crinkle in a way that must mean he's smiling.

"More fantastical than that," he says. He offers you a hand like a true gentleman, and to your shock, it feels like flesh, not wood. His grip is firm but soothing, his hand so huge it dwarfs your own.

"Let's do this, then."

uhhhhhhh wow this got kinda long I had to cut it short. I'll probably write a part 2? But it's gotta wait because I've got a gazillion other things to write first :P Thank you for the inspiration, anon! 🥺

[itsjusthockey]

A Nonsense Christmas - Jack Hughes

(Fruitcake EP Series)

Finally.

Enjoy

Comment and interact, love u guys that do. Makes my night

w.c: 2,083 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)

“Isn’t this illegal?” You ask, following Jack down through the tunnel of the very dark and very closed Prudential Center. “Or at least frowned upon?”

He snorts in front of you and turns to meet your eyes, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as he leans toward you, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Being me has its privileges, baby.”

He throws you a wink, and you roll your eyes as far back as you can as you continue to follow him down toward the devil's locker room. You’ve been to the Devil's barn many times before, but never when it was this late and very obviously closed. This little rendezvous wasn’t your plan. Things that are this extravagant usually aren’t.

You are currently in Jersey, but only for a few days. The hockey world was about to go on break, and Jack had begged you to fly in before you both headed to Michigan for the holidays. You were a bit hesitant, but after a few bribes from your boyfriend, you ended up in Jersey.

Tonight is your first night, and all you want after a long week of finals and a tiring flight is to land face-first in Jack's bed and stay there—Jack has other plans. As soon as you land and drop your stuff in the apartment, he is quick to shoo you out the door again, explaining he has a surprise date night planned after your miserable finals, and you are going to love what he has planned.

At the moment, the only feeling that is plaguing your mind is nervousness. Jack’s too cocky, and he has a slight bounce in his step which usually means he’s up to no good.

You follow behind him diligently, and soon enough, you both enter the locker room. The space is as lovely as you remember it, and you follow Jack over to his stall, which is conveniently next to his baby brothers. You watch with slightly narrowed eyes as he grabs various items from his locker and hands them to you.

It isn’t until he opens his little cubby that everything falls into place. There inside is a brand new box, and when he opens it in front of you, his stupid little smirk grows even wider.

“You like?” He proudly pulls the new Bauer skates from the box, handing one over to you.

You take in the brand new pair of skates. They’re beautiful, custom, and just your size.

“You, sir, are evil.” You give him a false mean glare, but you’re slightly being honest with your statement. “You really bought me skates and trapped me here to force me to ice skate?”

He shrugs his shoulders again, smiling. “Yes, I did.”

You roll your eyes at the boy in front of you. You’ve been together for a while, a long time, and while you’re dating one of the best hockey players in the league, you can’t ice skate for shit. It’s not for a lack of trying; you really have given it your all, but you’ve just had terrible teachers. Jack has tried to teach you many times. Many, many times, to no avail.

The first time, you almost ended up with a trip to the emergency room. The second time you landed so hard on your back, you thought you were paralyzed. The third time, you almost got a concussion. So it’s simple to say you’ve tried your best, but you’ve decided to leave ice skating to the professionals.

“Come on, baby, tonight’s the night, I feel it.”

You follow him out of the locker room toward the ice. You pause when you get there, suddenly feeling a sense of nostalgia. The lights are on in the center ice, and you have to admit it looks serene and slightly beautiful in the late evening. You’ve only ever been here when it is bustling with fans, and you feel a little special getting to see it this way.

“Come on, stop stalling.” Jack teases, patting the bench for you to sit.

You follow him and seat yourself in front of him. He’s smiling big, and he looks ridiculously happy. He’s always like this when he’s here; he has a certain energy when he’s close to a rink. You’d never tell him this, but you love it when he tries to teach you, even if you are wildly nervous.

Jack kneels down, immediately getting to work. You wince slightly as he pulls the skatelaces impossibly tighter around your foot. He quickly loops them around and tucks them into the sides, ensuring there is no possibility of you tripping, which you may or may not have done before.

“There, how’s that?” Jack gently pats your ankle as he looks up at you, still kneeling on the floor.

You shake your feet around, and the brand-new Bauer skates don’t budge a bit; it’s really tight and slightly cutting off blood flow, but you would rather have that than a broken ankle.

“Feels good.”

He smiles again, standing up and grabbing your face. He pulls you in for a quick kiss, then sits next to you, pulling on his own skates. You watch as he tightens them in record speed, and soon enough, he’s launching himself across the boards.

You glare at him as he races around the ice. He skates forward, backward, and even does a little spin. He’s laughing as you’re watching him move around fluidly, and once he’s done, he skates back to you, leaning over the boards where you’re standing, safely behind the danger.

“Stop showing off J, you’re not cute.”

He barks out a laugh at your bitterness, but he smiles sweetly and extends a hand for you to grab. You hesitate, watching his open palm for a minute before you finally pluck up enough courage and swing yourself onto the ice.

As soon as your foot makes contact with the ice, you fall a bit forward, and Jack steadies your waist. You give him another glare when you catch his amused stare. He’s enjoying this way too much.

“Okay, baby, you ready for the basics?”

You nod and watch as your boyfriend goes into full teacher mode. He tells you how to go, how to change directions, and you’re off. You feel pretty good. You haven’t been injured yet, but you seem to be skating better than you ever have. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re on professional ice; maybe their talent is seeping in.

You’re moving pretty fast, actually very fast, and Jack has let go of your hands, letting you glide on your own. It isn’t until you’re getting a little too close that you realize he forgot to reach you, the most essential part of ice skating.

“Wait,” you screech a bit. “How the fuck do I stop!”

Before you can do anything, you smack into the boards and fall on your ass. You hit the ice pretty hard as you go down, and as soon as you fall, you just lay there accepting defeat.

You hear Jack's loud and annoying laughter before he gets to you. He skates up so close, and he hovers above your body, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“You were doing so good. What happened?”

You huff in annoyance, and he holds out his hands to help you up. Once you’re back on your feet, you throw him another glare.

“I’m not having fun.”

He smiles and skates in a bit close, moving to kiss your pout away. He does, and when he pulls his face back, he gently moves a piece of stray hair out of your face.

“You’re doing good. It just takes practice.”

You nod, and a newfound sense of determination fills you. This is just ice skating, literally Jack's job, and you will fucking master it if it kills you. More so, you know for a fact that there is a family skate coming soon, and you want to impress people. You know you have it in you, so you grit your teeth, use Jack to push you, and you’re off again.

An hour later, you’re quite impressed with yourself. You’ve managed to skate around and haven’t fallen once. You’re moving good, and you’re finally able to keep up with Jack to a certain extent.

“You better watch out J, I think the league might replace you with me.”

You wink at him as he watches you proudly, and you can tell this means a lot to him, so even if it means you’ll fall a few times, you’ll do this every day.

“You’re a natural.” He circles you, and you try your best not to knock into him. “You just needed to get out of your head.”

You nod, smilingly, and you both skate for a little longer. Eventually, you grow a bit tired. It’s been a long day, and you find yourself skating toward the devil's bench in search of some much-needed water.

Jack reads your mind and beats you to the bench, swinging himself over and grabbing the water bottle. He grins a little bit and melts your heart. He shakes the water bottle and holds it high. You oblige and tilt your head back as he squirts the water into your mouth. He misses a bit, causing the water to dribble down your chin. You sputter a bit and wipe at your face, playfully glaring at him.

“Oops, my bad," Jack says, chuckling as he wipes the excess water off your cheek with his hand. "Looks like I need to work on my aim."

You shake your head, feigning annoyance, but you can’t help but find his boyish antics endearing.

“You're lucky you're cute," you tease, unable to hold back your laughter.

Jake grins impossibly wider, his eyes twinkling a bit with mischief. "Well, I guess I'll have to make it up to you then."

He reaches out and helps pull you safely off the ice. He makes quick work and cups your face with cold hands, leaning down to kiss you softly.

The familiar tingle of excitement rushes through you as your lips meet, and you melt into his embrace, warming yourself up. His kiss is passionate but sweet and tender; it sends shivers down your spine. The light sounds of the empty area fade, and you find yourself getting lost with him.

After what feels like an eternity, you pull apart, breathless but grinning from ear to ear. Jack's blue eyes sparkled as he looks at you with all the affection in the world.

“Better?" he asks with a smirk, his hand still resting on your cheek.

You nod, your heart swelling with happiness. "Much better," you whisper, unable to hide your adoration for this hockey-playing heartthrob in front of you.

You sigh wistfully and see the twitch of a smile tug at his lips as you cup his jaw and tug him down to meet you in another gentle, lingering kiss. The warmth of his touch sends a rush of emotions through you, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Are you hungry?” Jack whispers in your hair.

You nod and loop your arms through his bent elbows, crossing it over his back. You press a soft kiss to his jaw, and he pulls you back toward the locker room. It doesn’t take long for you both to pack up, and you’re very pleased with the successful date night. It isn’t often you get to do things like this, and every time you do, you’re reminded how special your relationship is.

Ten minutes later, you’re packed into the Range Rover, and Jack is speeding toward his favorite late-night burger place. When you pull in, you see the hanging Christmas lights, and you’re reminded of the season. It’s Christmas, and you get to spend time with him, lots of time.

He leads you in hand and hand, and you can’t help but feel utter joy as you eat and spend the rest of the night together. The holdings season is shaping up to be the best yet, and you’re unbelievably excited to spend it by his side.

[grillthegridmydear]

Oscar and number 7 🫶🏻 Thank u so much!

Spotify Wrapped - No. 7

Jackie and Wilson ~ Hozier

OP81 X Reader

Oscar spends his winter break on an extended holiday in Ireland after Lando and Logan decide they want good beer, good culture and a (hopefully) White Christmas.

Meeting her was the last thing he was expecting.

A/N: Kicking it off with Hozier is terribly on brand, set in Dublin cause it's my hometown.

The sheer volume of people trying to battle their way through Grafton Street could have filled a grandstand. This was the only thing that Oscar could think as he tried his best to follow Logan and Lando down the busy street, trying desperately to avoid bumping into passing strangers, their arms loaded with shopping bags as they dart between stores trying to get last minute gifts as the snow fell above them. It was December 17th and instead of spending Christmas at home with his family in Australia or even in his new home in Monaco that he has been living in for less than a year, Lando essentially made the decision for him.

Oscar was added to a groupchat with all of the remaining single drivers and Lando dropped the bomb that he was organising a trip for the winter break to let off steam and enjoy themselves before the 2025 season kicked off. Logan was going because he had recently signed to drive with a new team in a different series, so it would probably be the last time they would be able to see him for a while due to everyones busy schedules. Everyone else had plans with their families or another convenient excuse not to attend, but Oscar was still riding the high of their Constructors Championship victory over Ferrari, and with the promise of spending time with Logan he was very quickly sending a thumbs up to the plan and booking a plane ticket. A month in Dublin, Ireland so that they could be close enough to home that if Mclaren called them back to the MTC they could be there within a few hours. What could go wrong.

After apologising to the third person he bumped shoulders with in the last five minutes Oscar was beginning to regret agreeing to leave the apartment they had booked. It was cold and crowded and honestly he would have been happy with going to a quiet dinner with the boys before relaxing. Lando finally managed to guide them to the mouth of the street and across the road to stop somewhere out of the way of traffic. "Pub anyone?" Lando voiced their collective opinion out loud, the cold was starting to eat through their jackets and honestly with the amount of sightseeing they had been doing since they arrived a week ago, just sitting down with a drink sounded great to Oscar.

Logan started trying to google where they should go while Lando was arguing that they should just start walking in a random direction. Looking back to that moment Oscar was sure that it wasn't a coincidence that they managed to stop directly outside the gates of Trinity College University (a place Oscar only remembered the name of because of the tour they took a few days prior, to look at some old book, it was Logan's idea) because just as they finally seemed to settle on a place Lando immediately searched for the first person he could see to ask for directions. "Excuse me love, could you tell us how to get to The Temple Bar?"

Oscar heard her laugh first, but once he turned to look at the poor girl his teammate was harassing he was a goner. She was dressed far better for the cold than they were, her long black wool coat matched her boots and by the smile on her face he could tell that she thought the question was ridiculous. There was a sparkle of recognition in her eyes as she took in the trio of racers stood in front of her. "I could, but you'd be spending outrageous money for a shit pint and its so crowded this time of the day you might not get a table for hours." Out of the corner of his eyes Oscar could tell that Logan and Lando were content to start looking for other people to ask but he bet them to it. "Would you know somewhere better we could go?" His voice made the other two boys stop in their tracks and look at the her expectantly, and good god Oscar was not ready for her to aim that megawatt smile at him, he could physically feel his heart stutter and begin racing. "I might, I'm actually heading there myself if you boys want to join me?"

That was how they ended up on the other side of the big river that Oscar couldn't care to remember the name of right now, joining a table of four people in the beer garden of Fibber Magees. They had been there for two hours but he wouldn't have been able to tell if not for the fact that the band that was playing music inside the pub when they arrived had ended their set, another one quickly taking their place. Lando had disappeared with one of your friends to grab another round of drinks, and Logan was too busy talking to another one about the NFL. But Oscar, he was completely captured by her. The night stretched on with the Aussie hanging onto her every word, learning about her studies, her hobbies, the man was so whipped that by the time the bar was calling for the last orders of the evening he knew her favourite bands by name and had the names of her dogs (Jackie and Wilson) comitted to memory.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ ✦

As the group tumbled out onto the streets that were started to become littered with snow, everyone was having a blast, and clearly, no one wanted the night to end. However, the promise of early engineering lectures and a date with that absurdly old library from earlier in the week had the girl that Oscar was sure he could sketch in perfect detail deciding to retire for the evening, but not before she whipped her phone out of that obscenely warm coat she wore and held it out to him.

It took a beat before Oscar figured out that she wanted his number, and despite how cold his fingers had now gotten he triple checked that he had in fact not mis typed the wrong digits, the name 'Oscar (from Fibbers)' being his final addition before he handed it back to her. The laugh that left her was warm, so much so that his nearly frost bitten fingers were completely forgotten in that moment. She started typing on the screen and when she pivoted the screen back to him so he could read it, where his contact name had originally sat on the top of the now open chat a new name took its place, 'lucky number 81 🧡' now filled the space and before he could think about how he hadn't ever actually told her that he was the famous Oscar Piastri that drove for Mclaren F1 and not just Oscar the Australian tourist that had been slowly falling in love with her for the last 6 hours, she stood on tip toes to land the softest kiss on his cheek. And with that, she gathered her friends, and before he could move from the spot he was rooted to, the group had already turned the corner at the end of the street and was gone.

When the trio finally made their way back to the apartment and stopped making fun of him for his smitten behaviour, Oscar was distracted by his notification tone. The text was simple, and attached was a Google maps link to Irish International Circuit Mondello Park.

Unknown Number: you did really well last season, but I want to see if you've still got those karting skills. Friday at 12, don't be late!

Fibbers girl xx

. ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The season had officially drained Oscar and best believe that he was ready for his winter break to start, the final laps of the Abu Dhabi GP had his entire life's dream in its grasp, Mclaren has already secured their fourth constructors championship in a row and now he and Lando were neck and neck for the drivers championship. Not starting from pole was not ideal for the aussie but after an intense back and forth overtaking fight with Max and Lando and a red flag pitstop from Esteban in his Haas, Oscar found himself leading the final lap of what has to be the drive of his life. Tears welled in his eyes and the rumble of screams from the grandstands could be heard over the throttle. The last corner was finally behind him and before he could process that his championship fight was finally over, with him victorious, he was out of the car, weighed for the FIA and being hoisted onto the shoulders of his team.

But the moment that finally grounded him to reality was when he finally managed to escape from the clutches of Zak and his extreme enthusiasm and let his eyes fall on his family still stood crowding the barriers. His sisters finally managing to hop the fence and tackle him into the biggest hug the three girls could muster. There were times that Oscar felt like the worst brother in the world. Leaving his home and family to chase what seemed like an impossible dream, leaving Mae Edie and Hattie behind only experiencing them growing up through photos in family group chats, late night face time calls and flying visits to his home between races. They were proud of him though, he could see it in their eyes as they finally relented their vice grips on him.

His mother stood in place behind the barrier, the tears in her eyes and the smile on his face telling him that all their sacrifice was worth it, that her pride in him would never waver and that before he was the new world champion, he was her son.

Finally, his eyes landed on her.

The warm wool winter coat that he met her in that day was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a papaya dress that did absolutely nothing to hide her growing belly, or the ring on her finger. The smile on her face split his heart in two the same way it did in the freezing cold years ago, and for a second, he considered pulling a Rosberg. He was world champion, he had nothing left to prove, so disappearing from the racing world to spend his life wrapped up in you, in your growing family, and Jackie and Wilson who were no doubt snoozing on their couch at home in Monaco.

Well it didn't sound bad, not one bit.

. ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Did I start this over a month ago?? Yes.

Life got busy for a hot sec so I'm extending this event until the season starts in March.

Hope you enjoyed xx

A xx

[bunji-enthusiast]

Scuttling back in to say;

YOU MAKE ME WANNA WRITE MORE STUFF SO BADDDDD ITS SO GOOD

+

Would there possibly be room for a Dogday & Catnap scenario where reader came in sick, because they simply refuse to take sick days, and those giants just hate seeing them like that and just take care/help with work?

Keep up the good work buddy, I LOVE EATING READING IT

Gentle Giants

Note || AHA- thank you!

WC || 1,152

Sypnosis || your fuzzy companion refuses to let you overwork yourself, even in sickness.

CatNap – 

You had him CONCERNED, and he doesn’t feel like that rarely for anyone else. Right off the bat when you come into work he can tell you are sick, he voices his concerns with Bobby who he thought of having good advice for a situation like this. She had suggested that he help take the load off of your workload at least, as you were stubborn and proclaim you can do work all by yourself. 

CatNap didn’t want you to ever accidentally hurt yourself, seeing as how you will go to every corner of the factory to get your duties done – even if you had some work to do as a caretaker, just a temporary one. He decided that he had enough of it, seeing as how you’d only get worse when you're working. 

Halfway through your shift, he decided to intervene, picking you up around the waist and laying you on his back despite your many protests to leave you alone. CatNap retorted with an audible snort, refusing to relent against your words. He’s seen what happens to employees when they come in sick, not taking a sick day off. No way would he allow that to happen to you. You simply were far too precious to CatNap, you were; kind, patient and gentle with him, despite his many times that he had treated you a little… rudely. 

The insomniac cat thought it would be best to bring you to his sleeping place, clean and unmarked of his scratches (though save for the few claw marks here and there against the walls). His stretchy tail had elongated far enough to pick you up by the waist again, which in hindsight did startle you a little as you had gotten used to being on his back for a long period of time. Gently, CatNap settled you on his bed, promptly laying you down in the proper position as if he had done this all before – with children, of course he’d have this experience to do so. You were tired, lethargic, simply just flopping against the orange mattress and finding comfort in how springy and just comforting it was. 

Truth be told, he did admit to snatching you away. Only to another employee who asked where you were, they were understanding once he had pointed out you were sick. People needed rest after all, and the employee knew you were quite the stubborn type. CatNap had finally returned with a blanket that was draped over his shoulder, and a bucket of water he held in his mouth alongside the rotund rag that laid at the silver edge top of the bucket. He had steady motions, setting down the bucket that was hanging from his mouth beside the large mattress bed. Soon enough, he had also finally covered you with the blanket, quiet enough as to not wake you as he had seen you fall asleep in his absence. 

At first, he wasn’t sure what to do with the rag, just sitting there at the top of the bucket. But soon enough he had found a solution. CatNap had found one of the brand new fresh miniature smiling critters, who was alive like he was and filled the rag with water, then laid it across your forehead.

CatNap was glad, though he knew the process of having to wet the rag over and over again as it can get dry after some time.

DogDay –

Cuddly, protective and very stern when needed. DogDay was happy at first to see you coming to work again, but overtime it became less of happiness and more so concerned as he began to realize you were most likely sick. He took his thoughts to Bubba, as he knew him to be smart and informative for the most part. Bubba had told him you just were most likely sick, knowing how you didn’t like taking sick days off even if you really truly were sick.

DogDay needed a plan, action to help lessen the load on your shoulders. He won’t stand for the fact that you are working actively while being sick at the same time, heck even a dog like him knew this! He wanted you to get some proper rest, but how was he actually gonna be able to do so? But as ever, DogDay remained to be looking on the bright side of this as he asked Bubba once again what he should do. Bubba was very smart in comparison to him, he wasn’t that well informed with sickness himself.

Bubba had suggested that he take half of your workload at least, so he went exactly to do that, people had eyed him for his weird out of place appearance outside of where one usually would find him. He didn’t really care for it, just continuing to do your work load without your knowledge. When you had gone to do your other duties, you were waved off, confused as to why – they had told you someone had already done it all for you. 

You were practically already done with your work for the whole day, you had a sneaking suspicion that you knew who had done half the work load for you. When you went to confront DogDay, he had admitted under the weight of your glare, saying he had done the other 50% of your work because you were sick. You were surprised to say the least, touched at the thought he did it because he knew you were sick. But you never told him, which raised a few brows from you.

“Aha, angel.. Dogs can be good at noticing things better than humans normally do.” He said with a tinge of nervousness. You sighed, walking up to hug him despite the vast differences in size that was comparable between you and DogDay. He was elated to know you weren’t angry, bending down to hug you, finally he had you trapped. DogDay picked you up, which had elicited a yelp from you, feeling he had now carried you bridal-style. 

DogDay had insisted you needed rest, taking you with him as you relented to his insistence. Truly he was a leader and a friend till the end. 

Both –

When the both of them team up, there is no way you are getting away with working while you're sick. They both reassure each other what they are doing is okay, they both care about you very much. CatNap just kind of drags you away, bringing you to his bed while DogDay had walked alongside him, checking your forehead for how hot your fever may be. 

Luckily, DogDay slipped away while CatNap had set you up to be in a comfortable position while you were sleeping. DogDay came back with a bucket of water and a rag to administer to keep your fever down as much as possible. 

With these two, you practically have nothing to worry about.

[inmyheaddd]

dating grayson hawthorne head cannons

wc ⇨ 800 a/n ⇨ grayson hawthorne i love u!!! masterlist

grayson is the type of man who’d spoil you endlessly. anything you even mention, look at for a second too long, even a passing interest—you best believe it’s at your doorstep the next day. his attentiveness is almost surreal; he noticed you were playing a particular artist slightly more than usual over the past week, and then got you VIP tickets to an upcoming show. 

in turn, you try to match his level and surprise him with things he likes.

you knew grayson collected watches, and with jamesons help, you found out which one was missing from his collection. you’d been making a scrapbook over the past year, and this was no better time to gift it as well.

you walk into his study, slightly confused as he never really calls you in there, “yeah, what’s up?”

“was this your doing?” he gestures towards a gift placed on the desk his sitting at, with a tiny smile present on his face.

“oh,” you struggle to hide your own smile. “yeah it was, why?” 

standing and approaching you, he gently places his hands on your face. "my love, you know you don't have to get me anything, right?" he says softly.

“yeah, i know, but you always do things for me, i just wanted to return the favor” you explain.

“your presence is everything i need and more.” grayson hawthorne had a way of speaking that left no room for arguments. but that was grayson hawthorne, in your eyes, he was just grayson.

“grayson,” you drag out his name in protest, rolling your eyes jokingly, “just open the gift please, let me do something nice for you.” 

“everything you do is nice for me.” he counters.

“grayson.”

“y/n.” 

your attempt at a stern look dissolves into laughter. chuckling at your antics, grayson lowers his hands and decides, "i’ll open it." he never liked to back down, but for you, seeing your radiant smile was worth it. "come here," he beckons, leading you back to his desk and encouraging you to sit across his lap. you oblige.

opening the gift, the first thing he finds is a letter you wrote. heat rises to your cheeks at the thought of him reading the words you poured your heart into, right in front of you. "you don't have to read it now; just look at the other things," you suggest.

“you got me something else?” he sounds truly confused, like no one had ever put thought into him before. you laugh softly, turning your head to face him “obviously, i’d give you the moon if i could.”  

“you shouldn’t have,” he says as he recognizes the brand on the box, previously covered by the letter.

“shouldn’t have gotten you the moon? i didn’t actua—“ your joke is cut short as he raises an eyebrow, though the slight curve of his lips betrays his attempt at seriousness. 

you look down at his lips and back up to his eyes, “what?” you muse at him, as he held eye contact even after your dad joke was cut off, instead of returning to his unboxing.

you often found yourself getting lost into his eyes, momentarily forgetting everything around you this. 

his silver eyes often said more than he did, and you yearned to master the language they spoke.

“i just love you so much.” it wasn’t the first time he’s spoken those words, but it wasn’t a very common occurrence. it just made them all the more meaningful

grayson preferred to say it in other ways, like the 2 squeezes he gives your hand, or when your foreheads stay connected for a moment longer after you’ve shared a kiss. 

his love language is gift giving — clearly, and quality time. 

he plans all your dates meticulously, knowing exactly what you like and what you’d have fun doing.

your relationship is pretty private, everyone knows you’re together, and you post the occasional “soft launch” type of post on your story, but that’s really it.

you’re his muse. his private photography account is simply full of you.

hes not one for extreme PDA, in his opinion its no one’s business but you two’s. handholding, an arm around your waist/ shoulder, peck on the cheek, is practically the limit.

as much as you tell him not to, he puts your needs above everything, even himself. 

he never thought of himself as someone who enjoyed physical touch; he was reserved to say the least, until he met you.

he can’t fall asleep without having some sort of contact with you. 

he wakes up with the most endearingly messy bed head, you adore it. him on the other hand, not so much.

grayson calls off every meeting and any plans he has whenever you’re sick or not feeling your best to stay by your side. movie marathons, all the food you’re craving, soup, blanket forts —he’s doing it all.

you insist on him going and that you’ll be fine, but 10 minutes later you realise there’s no place you’d rather be than here with him.

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

If you’re willing could you maybe write a little thing (idk the word for it sorry 😭) about replaced God MC getting annoyed with Gabriel and choosing to get energy from Michellel instead??

Yes! I love this, I was thinking of cucking em with lower demons but it would get their heads turning if you chose one of them!

(I really hope you like it I feel like I messed it up!)

Wrong Move (Gabriel)

Cw: technically c*cking?, pining, one sided relationship, angel energy exchange, slight edge play,

-

Gabriel knew you wouldn’t forgive him easily for…branding you…killing your best friend and charging a war against Hell, then kidnapping you…

Gabriel sighs as he watches you tremble as Michael Carrie’s you to your room for some…angel energy….he wished you’d give him a chance! He’s gotta be better! No angel has done…such activities until you came around so they all have the same experience level…

It hurt since it wasn’t just once…this is the with time…it irked him to know you chose the cry baby to him…he could hear his whimpers and moans…it made his heart ache…

He thought about the brand marking he left on you, it hurt to know…he scared your perfect vessel. But…you gave him no chance to make it up, he could heal it! But…you ordered him to deal with and live with the scars there…

He whimpers as he hears Michael moaning loudly, enjoying himself with you…Gabriel had gotten so upset he even tried peeking in in you two a few times.

Each time Michael just…was so obedient, only doing as you say…even letting you edge him.

“A-aah! M-my Lord…I’m close! Please have mercy!”

Gabriel paused, he’s never heard Michael sound like that, he’s never seen him look like that…

Gabriel’s own body heated up at the thought often of you doing this to him…he can feel his cock throbbing in its cage and as he glances towards the other angels groin, he notices…the lack of a chastity cage….

His eyes widen realizing you took off Michael’s cage.

He sobs in frustration quietly, leaving, trembling in a mix of embarrassment and frustration. He needs to make this up to you…

~

The next day you wake up to Gabriel having made you breakfast. He has your clothes laid out and is smiling to you. “My Lord, I’m sorry…I’ve been very…dare I say inappropriate.”

Gabriel sighs and looks away trying to think of what to say.

“Have I said before? That I love you, I deeply value you and will do all I can to protect my Lord…” Gabriel leans forwards and rest his forehead on yours. “Please, please Master…let me heal the wound I have you, I’m sorry…I regret it.”

You barely seem bothered, making him feel wounded, his smile falters but he gets his hopes up when you brush his hair to the side so you can look in his eyes.

“Gabriel. I knew you were watching.”

Gabriel freezes and lowers his gaze. “I-I’m sorr-“

You interrupt him. “Don’t be a brat, I’m not going to chose you next time because your pride wants it…”

You grab his halo and yank it so he flops on the bed, landing beside you. Gabriel looks to you in surprise but since you don’t key go of his halo he decides to behave and stay down. He looks up to you nervously.

“Maybe next time I’ll let you sit in the room, gagged and tied up so you can sit back and enjoy the sight without bothering us.” You coldly tease, leaning over you pluck a feather from Gabriel’s wings. “Get Michael. I need some more energy.”

Gabriel whimpered as you let go of his halo.

“M-Master please give me a chance! I will prove myself to you! I’ll do anything you want! My entire being is just for your pleasure!” He pleaded…you hated his desperate tantrums whenever you decline him something like this. “Once chance is all I’m asking for please…”

As you sit up on the bed he gets on the ground on your side of the bed and gets on his knees and bow, his head on the ground as he bows to you. You know it’s a sign of respect but you grin and place a foot on his head, pushing his face against the ground.

“What a whiny bitch you are…now get Michael and I’ll let you watch.”

Gabriel held back a whimper and hurried away, trying to hid the tears in his eyes from your rejection…he’s sure he can make it up later…just not now…

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 19th december, 2022 ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

this was my view the first time i listened to arctic monkeys. i was sitting in a parked car in the middle of a downpour, waiting for a friend who was at an appointment. i had an hour to kill, and i didn't feel like reading my book. i scrolled restlessly through my spotify library, and, on a whim, decided to listen to 505. it'd been on my playlist of 'to listen to' forever, but for some reason i'd never felt drawn to it until that particular afternoon. i pressed play, and when the song finished i pressed play again. and again. and again. i had goosebumps and my heart was full of something music hadn't evoked in me for a very long time.

i found the 'essential arctic monkeys' playlist and listened to everything i could, suddenly wishing that i had more than an hour, that my friend's appointment would go on and on so that i could stay here in this magical little bubble forever, feeling my heart opening itself up to something brand new and yet hearing parts of myself i'd known forever in the words, like they were somehow waiting for me to come and find them. it felt like someone had switched on a light. like something had come in and reignited a spark i didn't know i'd lost, and i was suddenly glowing with it. nothing had ever spoken to my creativity in the same way; after a long time squashing or trying to reshape it, i could feel it coming to life again, feel it being spoken to so vividly by the music it was as though they were having a direct conversation.

i love a lot of bands and a lot of music, but i've never fallen in love with any music as quickly or as deeply as i did with arctic monkeys. i don't think there's any other band that i've had such a profound first listening experience with, where i remember exactly where i was and how it felt. but the memory of listening to 505 and crying lightning and don't sit down 'cause i've moved your chair and arabella in that parked car, watching the rain slide down the glass and smudge the dusk, is something i know i'll remember forever. i could *feel* my world shifting on its axis, and, looking back, that instinct was totally spot on. completely out of the blue and in a way i never expected, arctic monkeys reunited me with my creativity in a way i'd needed for years. within days of listening to them for the first time, i'd started writing my novel, and a couple of months down the line i'd written over 40k. it was the most i'd written in years, and that's not even to mention the fanfic that rapidly became the most fun and fulfilling escapism i'd discovered in a long time. i felt myself seeing and connecting with the world around me in a brand new way that felt exciting and vivid, strange and beautiful and full of subtle, unnoticed meaning. it felt as though i had suddenly been given permission to write the world the way i experienced it, rather than trying to capture on paper what i thought other people wanted it to be.

as if all that wasn't enough, their music has also allowed me to connect with some incredibly special people and make wonderful friends both here and in real life.

it's truly hard to put into words the profound and unexpected impact this band has had on my life and just how much solace their music brings me, but at the very least i wanted to recognise that by acknowledging the anniversary of the first day i listened to them. it's a wonderful reminder of how the smallest action can change your life, and how those changes you need can find their way to you in ways you'd never have foreseen. i will be forever grateful to the serendipity of boredom and spotify playlists on that rainy afternoon in december 💖

[kallie-den]

Rescue Hound Chapter One

Kione Monax, a mercenary pilot, is hired to rescue the captured, brainwashed Sartha Thrace. But getting her home and healing her mind prove to be very different things - and Kione's feelings for the hero threaten to pull her into the darkness when she discovers just how malleable Sartha can be

A new Warhound story!! The preceding stories can be found at this tag

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Nothing makes Kione Monax feel good the way being saddled up in the cockpit of a huge mech suit does.

Cause it pays really, really well. Duh.

Provided you’re the best, of course. Kione doubts any of those fifth-rate Imperial grunt pilots they never seem to run out of get paid more than a pittance—not that they’ll ever live long enough to spend it, if she’s the one they’re up against. But Kione? She’s the best. Nowadays, at least. And that means she can name her damn price and the rebels will pay it, no matter how sour the looks on their faces when she comes to collect.

It’s not all about the money, obviously. Kione would be the first to admit that there is a very clear and distinct pleasure in being the very best. To ruling the battlefield like a queen. To tapping into the merciless rhythm of combat, and feeling the beat change when she decides it’s the moment - the moment to kick her Theaboros’s reactor into the red and soar, allowing herself just a single moment to drink in the stupefied, upturned, defeated faces of her prey before she puts them out of their misery.

Fuck, it’s good. It really gets her hot.

But it’s not better than money, because money was what had bought her the Theaboros and its wings, and its state-of-the-art systems, and its fresh coats of paint—for vanity, although sometimes she lies and calls it ‘branding’—and all the fancy drinks she buys for the very best hookers before she buys them too. That’s what life is all about. Not principles. Lots of people get big, stupid ideas in their heads once they’re sitting behind the controls of a sixty-foot mechanical god. If your ideas are big enough and stupid enough they start calling you a hero, and Kione is very, very determined not to end up as one of those. They always die bad.

That’s how scumbag mercenaries like Kione wind up as the best.

Hey, merc, comes a terse voice over a shitty, crackling radio, just as Kione finishes planting the charges, you better be in position.

Kione sighs quietly to herself before she answers: “I am. Plan B is in place.”

Good, says the girl on the radio. Get ready. And remember: no work, no pay.

Kione rolls her eyes. Why do people always feel the need to remind her? Contrary to popular slander, mercenaries aren’t cowards or turncoats. Any mech-for-hire who pulls that kind of shit just saw their very last payday. And besides, Kione refuses to help out the imperials. Just out of self-interest, of course—there’s no place for free spirits like her in the kind of world they’d like to build. She’s bloodied their noses more times than she can count, and you’d think that would win her some actual gratitude from the rebels she fights alongside.

Hell no. Kione had fought with unit after unit, recruit after recruit, and each one proves to be just as naively idealistic as the last. They all think they’re put here to save the world, and they hate that Kione knows she’s only here to make some hard cash. The girl barking orders at Kione over the radio is one of those. An idealist. A firebrand. She’d flashed Kione a nice, mean look before they’d shipped out. Stars in her eyes, hell on her lips.

Kione knew then and there she’d have to fuck her, once they made it back. It wouldn’t be hard. Girls like that always went for her once they saw first-hand how good she was. She went for them, too. She just loved to make them choke on her.

She’s here. Cut the chatter. Everybody focus.

At once, Kione lets go of her sleazy fantasies and gets herself back in the zone. Not for the first time, she wonders about the targets. How many? How well-equipped are they? Guess she’ll find out soon enough. Not that she can see shit right now, hanging from the underside of this colossal bridge.

It’s a good place for an ambush and a great place to get yourself killed if a thousand tons of reinforced concrete come down on your head before you know what’s happening. That’s why Kione’s there. That’s the truth of mercenary work: you get the real shit jobs. The ones they don’t expect you to walk away from.

Suits Kione just fine. She’ll groan and grumble until they pay her double, then prove she’s worth every penny.

For now, though, there’s only waiting. That gets to Kione the same way it does to every soldier. Eventually, her mech’s sensors pick up vibrations. Footsteps on the bridge above. Another machine. A pretty big one, too—but only the one, which prompts some serious fucking questions. Who the hell are they ambushing here? A high-value target, clearly. Maybe an imperial higher-up. But those don’t fly solo. A pilot, then? Some ace? It’d have to be. Kione can’t think of any other reason they’d pay her fees for a gig like this.

It has to be someone good. Someone only she can beat.

Kione finds herself grinning.

More waiting. The target is moving slow. A nice, steady march. It gets closer, and closer, and closer, until Kione can hear each step; can feel them reverberating through her body. Until the enemy is directly above her. The enemy mech’s footfalls are heavy and almost familiar. Despite everything, Kione is all but bursting with anticipation. She loves getting to put a rival ace in the dirt. Nothing better. But she knows she needs to be patient. She’s not the first wave. She’s the coup de grâce.

The radio crackles again. Now! Open fire!

An instant later, the air trembles with the report of a dozen guns. The rebels scattered themselves across the bridge, each pilot picking their ambush spot to secure kill zones and neutralize cover. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The rebels don’t have a lot of advantages over the imperials, but this is one of them: they’re good at this kind of guerrilla shit. As the barrage wears on, Kione’s grin starts to slip. She’s beginning to think they won’t need her after all.

Then, one by one, the guns go silent.

Kione can pick out each machine as it goes dark, just from the sound. No two rebel mechs are alike; consistent supply and production lines are a fleeting fantasy so each machine is somebody’s pet project, customized according to parts and needs. That makes it all too easy for Kione to count.

One down. Two down. Three down.

What the fuck?

It’s hard to believe, but Kione can hear it happening. Up above, the enemy mech pounds the bridge with its footfalls. That thing must be moving like a hound out of hell, dodging beams and missiles, throwing itself at one rebel after another. Its engine is deafening; an insane scream of tortured metal and unholy combustion that fuels the carnage. Screaming is just about all Kione can hear over the radio, too. The rebels’ comms discipline has broken down. They can’t make sense of how fast it's gone wrong.

Merc! Where the fuck are you?

That’s her cue. It’s the moment—and with a worthy foe, too. Kione can’t stop herself laughing nastily into the radio as she retracts the anchors keeping her attached to the bridge and slips into freefall.

And again, when she punches ‘startup’ on Theaboros’s flight system.

Mechs can’t fly, yeah? Everyone knows that. It just doesn’t make a lot of sense. You want to fly, you get in a plane. You’d need a stupid amount of thrust to get something as big as a mech suit in the air. A big engine won’t help. The tyranny of the rocket equation will murder you. Weight means fuel, fuel means more weight. The aerodynamics would probably be shit too. And that’s not even getting into the economics problem. Nobody can spare that much reactor fuel for just one machine. The best way to square the circle would be to build the entire thing out of some kind of crazy cutting-edge superalloy, but those are hell to get and worse to maintain. No; a flying mech would be a ridiculous vanity project. The imperials would never sanction it, and the rebels could never afford it.

Good thing Kione Monax has never worked for free a day in her life.

It helps that she built Theaboros smart—or at least, paid other people to. It’s a slender beast; tall, upright, almost human-like in its posture. It weighs a fraction of most of its rivals, and so when it spreads the six sleek, silver pinions mounted on its back, Kione can actually feel them catch the air. Every little helps when you’re fighting gravity.

But what really, really helps is the state-of-the-art antimatter reactor surging to life and pumping out a steady stream of anti-Fermion particles that singe the air around her mech a deep, unearthly red as they annihilate and, for just a fraction of a second each, keep the fundamental forces of the universe at bay.

With that on her side? Fuck yeah, Theaboros can fly. And Kione falls a little more in love with it every time.

It flies now, with her gripping the joysticks, gliding the unnaturally nimble machine between cables and tresses as she boosts clear of the bridge’s superstructure and tilts up, pulling a tight loop that brings her down onto the deck, ready to give her target the surprise of a lifetime.

Except, no.

Kione is the one left with her jaw on the floor when she sees who she’s up against. All at once, she realizes she was wrong before. It’s not someone only she can beat, because it’s the one person she never ever managed to beat, in all the long evenings they spent sparring together.

It’s Sartha.

It’s Ancyor, anyway. Or most of it. Actually, it’s more like Ancyor died and came back wrong. The base frame is still there; Kione can tell as much from that dragging, lupine gait as it lurches across the bridge. The exoskeletal armor is the same too. If anything, it looks even more beat to hell than usual. But beneath that, it’s all wrong. The reactor. The weapon systems. The raised, pneumatic hackles that augment those deadly claws. They’ve all been replaced. Upgraded. Imperial tech. It gives Kione the creeps. It’s like someone’s wearing her dead friend’s skin.

Whatever they’ve done to it, it’s clear Ancyor has lost none of its effectiveness. In its terrible, wake, Kione counts four of the mechs she shipped out here with lying in shattered, ugly heaps. They went down bad. Catastrophic kills. If anything, it looks like Ancyor’s pilot took special pleasure in plucking out and crushing each cockpit. That really gives Kione the creeps. Even Imperial pilots usually don’t sink that low.

At least she knows it’s not Sartha in there.

Unsurprisingly, the remaining three rebels have gone to pieces. They’re backing away, giving up the only tactical advantages they have—prepped positions and unit cohesion—and the radio channel is full of little more than panicked screeching. The squad leader, the girl who was barking at Kione earlier, is trying to instill some kind of discipline. It’s not working. She’s too young. They all are.

Take her down, damn it! she yells, when she sees Theaboros land. This is what we’re paying you for.

“You got it,” Kione mutters.

In all honesty, she’s weighing up the pros and cons of simply hitting the bricks and running. But she reminds herself: this isn’t Sartha. Just a pale imitation.

And besides, there’s money on the line. Duh.

In any case, the choice gets taken away from her when Ancyor turns its awful snout in her direction and starts barreling toward her.

“Shit!”

At once, Kione kicks her mech’s flight system into high gear. She manages to get enough thrust to pull up and clear—but only just. Ancyor is even faster than the last time they fought. Kione wheels around in the air to find her target, extending and clasping her long spear in Theoboros’s right hand. Once the weapon is deployed, its tip starts glowing red-hot as her systems reroute surplus reactor heat. Kione would prefer to keep Sartha’s hellhound at a comfortable distance, but CQC is the only good way to finish a fight sure and quick.

As soon as Kione sets her sights, she realizes that Ancyor has already turned to look up at her. Silently, four openings appear in its torso. An instant later, four wire-guided harpoons are coming right at her.

That’s new. Fuck.

Two of them, she manages to dodge. One, she bats aside with the flat of her spear blade. But the fourth, kept on target by tiny thrusters, buries itself in one of Theaboros’s long, slender legs. That’s not good. The damage itself is fairly negligible. What’s not negligible is Ancyor’s massive weight as it pulls the wire taut and starts reeling her in.

And, at the same moment, launches itself into the air with enough force to crack the concrete under its feet.

Kione’s display is filled with warnings she’s pretty sure she’s never seen before. She dismisses them with a furious gesture, but all she sees on the viewscreen afterward is the ruin of Ancyor’s face coming at her at an insane speed. No time to cut herself free, and no aerial maneuver Kione can think of is going to make a damn bit of difference with another mech weighing her down like an anchor.

So, stupidly, she does the only thing she can think of: she points her jets in the opposite direction and blasts herself straight down toward Ancyor.

Fifty feet in the air above the bridge deck, two meteors collide.

Ancyor has sheer mass on its side, but Theaboros has gravity and thrust. Kione is no rookie; getting her head knocked around in the cockpit isn’t going to ruffle her. She’s focused on what counts: getting this damn dog off of her.

It’s not easy. Ancyor is scrambling all over her, its wickedly sharp chain-claws working to find purchase. It’s clear whoever’s behind the controls knows Sartha’s style. They want to keep the two mechs bound together, grappling, where Ancyor’s sheer savagery makes it invincible.

All Kione can do is wield her long, elegant spear like a brawler’s stick, keeping it between them, leveraging them to try and force Ancyor away. Unfortunately, Theaboros isn’t great at this kind of contest of strength. It’s just not built for it. Desperately, Kione uses the flight system’s jets to throw the two of them into a series of loops, heads over feet, hoping the g-forces will destabilize the beast.

Of course, it’s just as likely that what happens is that Theaboros goes down face-first into the bridge.

Splat.

But maybe it’s working. Ancyor is starting to peel off. The harpoon comes loose and one of its arms slips, windmilling through the air. Kione presses the advantage, wrenching her spear around to make Ancyor’s grip untenable. After one last lunge that goes clean past her shoulder, Sartha’s mech is sent tumbling back down to earth where it belongs.

Wiping sweat from her brow, Kione grins. Get down, dog. The sky is all hers.

Then she notices the warning lights. She stops grinning as she realizes that last lunge didn’t go clean past her shoulder at all. It hit exactly where it was meant to. It ripped off one of her goddamn wings.

Ah. Well, that’s really not good.

Theaboros isn’t dead in the air. At least, not quite. But the thing about wings is: however many you’ve got, you probably don’t wanna be on less than that. Lest she choke her reactor to death, Kione is forced to ease off and touch down on the bridge. Once her baby has cooled off, she should still be able to pull off a trick or two.

Merc? You still breathing?

Kione’s glad radio girl is still here. Judging from the guns Kione hears, her surviving squadmates are too. Maybe they can still do this.

“I have a name, you know,” she grunts.

Yeah? Get us back to base in one piece, maybe I’ll think about learning it.

Kione cackles at that. She likes a girl who can keep her head.

“You can buy me a drink instead,” she tells her. “You already know my name. If you’re not careful, I’ll make you say ‘please’ when you use-“

She cuts herself off when she sees what’s about to happen.

Kione never takes her eye off the ball, but it’s taken her a moment to stop seeing white. Now that she has her sights on Ancyor again, she’s realizing it’s not nearly as debilitated by its fall as she’d hoped. It always was freakishly tough. And it’s doing the worst thing it possibly could. Worse even than coming at Kione again while her flight system’s cooling down.

It’s going after the easy prey.

In a single bounding leap, Ancyor hurls itself at the rebel currently spray-and-praying it with ineffective beam fire. The poor bastard freezes up, and Ancyor lands squarely on their shoulders.

It doesn’t need weapons. Its weight does the work. Even Kione flinches from the crunching sound.

No!

It’s radio girl. So much for keeping her head. Maybe she knew them well. Maybe it’s just one loss too many. Either way, because she’s one of those rebel idealists, she’s doing the brave thing. The stupid thing.

Breaking cover. Trying to save her comrade.

Idiot. That’s exactly what a predator like Ancyor wants

There’s some distance between the two of them, but nothing Ancyor can’t cross in the blink of an eye. It’s happening half the bridge’s length away. Theaboros has a rifle, but the stopping power is nowhere near enough. Kione can already see exactly what’s going to happen. Radio girl is going down. No chance her last squadmate sticks around after that happens, which leaves Kione trapped in a one-on-one. Not good odds.

So, the right move is obvious: ditch. Now. The mission’s a bust. Losing Kione’s pay is better than losing her life. As long as she takes off right this second, she should be able to make it out clean.

All she’s gotta do is outrun the other rebel, right?

Kione sighs. It’s an easy choice. But here’s the rub: she really was looking forward to that drink with radio girl.

So much for letting the reactor cool.

As Theaboros throws itself forward at her command, Kione punches the reactor straight back into the red. The thrust alone has her in the air; Kione works the flight system with a master’s touch, pitching her machine slightly off-axis to compensate for the wing she lost. It’s a rough ride. Her baby’s running too hot. The wingtips are starting to disintegrate. Antimatter annihilation’s a bitch. Kione doesn’t want to think about how much the repair bill’s gonna come to this time.

Instead, she just grins.

You thought your ride was fast, Sartha? Think again.

Ancyor lunges. Radio girl is right under its outstretched claw. Theaboros is hurtling toward them at a truly unwise speed. In the cockpit, Kione is rattling around like crazy—but she doesn’t let up. She only has a fraction of a second. No time to shoot, no time to strike, no time to parry. Only time to do something dumb.

Theaboros rams into radio girl shoulder first, shoving her out of the way. She raises her left arm in a feeble bid to fend off their attacker. The impact with the rebel mech wreaks havoc on Theaboros’s frame.

And then Ancyor’s claws rip her arm off.

Shit.

No time to take stock of the damage. No room to get her balance. No heat overhead to spend on a boost. Ancyor just keeps coming. It switches targets to Theaboros without missing a beat. Kione stumbles back just barely out of reach, wheeling her spear in a furious series of parries and ripostes.

Not furious enough. Nothing’s as furious as Ancyor. It matches Kione step for step, blow for blow. Only a matter of time until one of them lands home. Kione grimaces. At least radio girl is free and clear—not that that’s worth much. Can’t get paid if you’re dead, and she’s sure starting to feel dead. Theaboros has taken up too much damage to put up an even fight.

Kione snorts, despite everything. What, is she making excuses for herself?

That’ll look great on her tombstone. Kione Monax: it wasn’t fair.

It stings that it’s not even true. Now that she’s at the right distance to get a good look at Ancyor, it’s plain enough that it took a fierce beating in the rebel ambush. Radio girl’s crew wasn’t so bad after all. They took some mean chunks out of its armor. All over Ancyor, clouds of leaking coolant hiss and exposed electricals crackle. At least one or two major servos are missing. It must be handling like a pig right about now, but it’s moving like nothing’s happened. Whoever’s behind the controls is just that good.

Which begs the question, doesn’t it?

Who the fuck is piloting that thing?

Sartha Thrace is dead. Kione made her peace with that a long time ago, and she has no time for stupid rumors. But now she can’t help but wonder. Who else could handle Ancyor like this? From their sparring sessions, Kione recognizes all the little trademark moves. Hell, the only reason she’s lasted this long is because she has a sense of Sartha’s cadence. It’s like she’s fighting her friend’s ghost.

No, not her ghost. Something worse. Sartha was never quite like this. Never quite so heedless of herself. Never so proud she wouldn’t simply retreat from this kind of ambush. This animal ferocity—Kione has seen it before, but it was always a rare thing. It came over Sartha only when something drove her to her very limit. This pilot? It’s like she’s got all of that side of Sartha, and nothing but. Her rage and violence, distilled. Purified.

A shiver runs down Kione’s spine. It’s so wrong.

Merc?

That’s her radio girl. Kione rolls her eyes. She’d been hoping the rebel pilot would just run. If both of them die trying to save each other, she’s gonna throw up. That’s just too much.

“You clear of the bridge?”

Yeah.

Thank the gods.

Her distraction almost spells her end. Theaboros is driven yet another step backward and almost trips off the side of the bridge. Kione glances behind. She’s out of space. Shit. Shit! There has to be something left. Kione knows it. She feels it. This can’t be the end. Not of her. Not yet. She’s too good. There has to be something.

A plan B.

Oh, right.

Kione checks her reactor. Flight still isn’t on the menu. It’s gonna be ugly.

“Radio girl?” Kione calls out, as Ancyor brings its claws up for an overhead blow. She raises her spear to meet it. Sparks fly as the weapons meet.

Who- yeah?

“Plan B. Blow it.”

To her infinite credit, radio girl doesn’t hesitate, which means Kione only knows it’s happening when the ten thousand-ton reinforced concrete bridge under her feet suddenly isn’t.

In desperation, Kione throws herself over the edge. A drop is one thing. But getting crushed? That’s what’ll kill you. Unfortunately for her, the bridge is already falling. She can’t kick off cleanly. Best she can do is scramble at asphalt and rebar that’s quickly turning into little more than dust while she overboosts her flight system as far as it’ll go.

It’s good enough—almost. For just a moment, Kione thinks she’s threaded the needle. She’s going to glide clear.

Then Ancyor comes flying at her one last time.

How it managed a leap like that, Kione will never know. The way it screams as it comes at her almost stops her heart. It gets close. Way too fucking close. But Kione manages to wheel her machine around, kicking its legs up and out of Ancyor’s reach.

Not the wings, though. It gets another one of those.

That’s bad. Extremely bad. Kione suddenly realizes she ought to have been more appreciative of only being down the one wing.

Mercifully, Ancyor falls away and disappears into the bridge’s wreckage at the base of the valley. That’s a mercy. But Theaboros isn’t much better off. Spitting smoke and almost completely out of control, the best Kione can do with it is a crash landing.

But hey, any landing you can walk away from. Right? And Theaboros can still walk. It just can’t do anything else.

Kione lets herself throw up in the cockpit. That’s a first.

A minute or two later, while she’s slowly picking herself up, radio girl comes skating down the wall of the valley. Her mech is a bit shit—common enough, for rebels—but it looks a damn sight better than Theaboros right now.

Holy shit, radio girl calls out. You’re alive! You… you saved me.

She’s got that naive awe in her voice, like she’s talking to some hero. Kione frowns. Can’t have that.

“Don’t get used to it,” Kione retorts gruffly. “You die, who’s gonna make sure I get paid? Duh.”

She senses radio girl bristle a little, but it’s not quite enough to penetrate that thick coat of rebel sincerity. Thank you, Kione, she replies earnestly.

Even though it almost makes her throw up again, Kione laughs thickly.

“Told you. You already know my name.”

Now she senses the other pilot blushing.

Well, shit, radio girl says after a moment, as her mech’s head turns toward the ruins of the bridge. We really fucked this up. I don’t know how I’m gonna explain this to command.

Kione happens to disagree with the ‘really fucked this up’ part of that assessment. She happens to think she pulled off a goddamn miracle, actually. But then, she still doesn’t know what they were really after. Who they were really after.

Wait, radio girl says slowly. Is that… oh gods, I think that’s her.

Before Kione can ask, she’s dashing for something she’s spotted in the wreckage. Kione makes Theaboros limp after her. When she spots it too, her eyes go wide.

It’s Ancyor.

It’s almost in one piece. Almost. Tough son of a bitch. Kione half-expects it to come roaring at them again, but once radio girl shifts the bridge pylon that landed on it, she sees that Ancyor has finally given up the ghost. It’s not beyond repairs but the torso is cracked open like an egg, leaking oil and worse in a steady stream. Looks like the protection systems deployed OK, at least.

Which means the pilot might actually be alive.

Sure enough, as radio girl peels away one half of Ancyor’s ruined cockpit, Kione sees her—and for the first time, she’s completely and utterly lost for words.

Lying there, battered and bleeding and unconscious but very definitely alive, dressed just like usual except for what looks freakishly like a fucking muzzle strapped to her head—is Sartha.

Sartha Thrace. The hero. Kione’s friend.

“She…” Kione splutters eventually, overcome. “But… how did… all this, just for…”

Yeah, radio girl answers. All this was for her.

There’s something in the rebel’s voice. Something at once sorrowful and unbearably hopeful. Kione has never heard anything quite like it. But, uncomfortably, she realizes it was in her voice too.

She’s the objective. We’re bringing Sartha Thrace home.

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[shomixremix]

WEARING A PRETTY OUTFIT FOR HIM ♥︎

this popped into my head as i was cleaning out my closet. hope you lovelies enjoy!

tags: Arataki Itto, female! reader, fluff, teasing, lots of touching, smutty

-> you decide to surprise Itto on one of your date nights with a brand new, pretty outfit. however, the way it hugs your body makes him drool, wondering if the two of you should just stay home...

reqs open!

"itto? are you okay, hon?" you ask worriedly. as soon as you opened your door once the oni's heavy palm knocked on it, his jaw fell and his crimson eyes widened.

even when you asked him a question, no response came out. he continued staring quietly - which was very unusual. itto never did anything quetly.

"holy fuck, baby!" he suddenly exclaimed, wiping his face off shock. "you look.. wow. i mean, wow wow WOW!"

you chuckle at his praise, a soft tint rising in your cheeks. you catch one of his much larger palms in your hands, gently leading him inside your house.

as soon as he was inside, the oni made himself comfortable, sitting at the edge of your bed. that same dumbfounded yet extremely amused look still sat on his face as he looked at you, his demon eyes scanning the entirety of your figure.

"wow, sweets, ya' haven't shown me that one before!" he exclaimed with a large, toothy smile on his face, looking like a mesmerized puppy. if he had a tail, it would definitely be wagging.

but yet, his words were the truth - the silk, red dress you were wearing was purchased only the day before, and it was having its debut.

"oh, i got it yesterday at the market! this one was imported from liyue harbor, isn't that amazing? i love the gold details and this black bow on the back!"

oh, he loved them as well. gold, red and black were itto's favorite colors, of course he liked seeing them on you! especially on a short dress that barely covered your plump curves! hell, any color would look great on that perfect body of yours!

your hair was put up stylishly and elegantly, exposing your soft neck and that little almost-faded bite mark that itto left on you the last time you went out. the dress was short-sleeved, perfect for this early-summer weather, and so tight that it perfectly showed off your figure. and fuck, your slender arms that always eagerly wrapped around his biceps, and that beautiful waist he loved to hold, and those incredibly sexy hips he kneeded whenever he had the chance... and that beautiful plump ass that made him lose his mind, and holy shit, those heavy, pretty tits that were so beautifully framed by the heart neckline...

it was making itto lose his mind.

"it looks incredible, love bug! the dress is so pretty, but honestly, it's only that gorgeous 'cause you're wearing it, baby"

you smiled at his compliment, walking a few steps closer to him.

"aww, itto... you're so handsome too, you know? my big, handsome oni..." you say, your palms on his cheeks as you kiss the top of his head.

as soon as these words left your rosey mouth, his greedy hands grabbed your ass, sharp claws digging in the soft flesh. he looked up at you from his place on your bed, that same smile on his face.

"aww, sweets, you're makin' me blush over here! i try my best, ya know, gotta clean up a lil' if i'm takin' my girl out!"

clean shaven, with sharp eyeliner that for sure took him multiple tries (untill he just gave up and let Kuki do it) and a little bit of gel in his mane, you could tell itto really put in the effort in his appearance!

suddenly, he got up, offering you his hand: "c'mon, love bug, give me a little spin, yeah? go on, show off that pretty little dress, baby!"

you did as told, spinning around to give him a better view. he drooled at the sight, his hands instinctively grabbing your plushy tighs and running under your dress.

"itto!", you scold through a laugh, "don't do that, we're supposed to go out tonight!"

with a toothy grin on his face he pulled your bodies closer, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

"aaww, but- but, sweets! we don't have to go out, yeah? we could stay here, you know? get nice and cozy, have a night in? yeah? you'd like that, baby, hm?"

every word he uttered was followed by a squeeze on a part of your skin, your tighs, hips and ass constantly violated by his playful yet suggesting grips.

"no, sorry babe, i'm hungry! but we're definitely having a "night in" later..." you seductively say, batting your eyelashes at him. "plus, if you like this dress, you're gonna go crazy about what's under it, too"

his eyes go wide as you walk out the door, motioning for him to follow you.

"you're such a little tease, love bug..." he growled as he followed you, one muscular arm wrapping around your waist.

"and you have to promise me you'll give me a nice, long fashion show later with whatever's underneath that dress, 'kay? even if there's nothing there. especially if there's nothing there!"

[bloodchapell]

second hangout - armin a.

brief summary: what if the “there is only one bed” moment happened at the library? you arrange a second hangout for you and armin to actually read nightfall. you go to eat after.

what to expect: alt and very nerdy reader, equally nerdy armin, mutual pinning, light physical touch

your sword’s note: armin is so cute u canttt. all past and future parts of this au series available in my mistresslist

That ring was on Armin’s finger every second of the day.

<Hey do you happen to know what material the ring is made of? I don’t want it to get damaged.> armin 👼🏼 01:03 am

<its silver! u can wash your hands with it on> you 01:03 am

<also are u free to go read tmr? lmk 🩵> you 01:04 am

<Yes!> armin 👼🏼 01:04 am

The blonde paced around his room. He could hear Eren curse at the TV in the living room, probably playing some games.

“Eren, what does light blue heart emoji mean?” Kind of socially ineptly Armin asked with his arms crossed.

“It means light blue heart emoji.” Eren replied. “Did you finally fry your brain? Am I the alpha brother now?”

“You are weird.” Armin frowned at his friend and sat besides him, unlocking his phone and showing the text in his screen.

“That just means she is excited to see you again you dumb fuck… I am sorry alpha brother I didn’t mean to be offensive in any way shape or form.” Eren blurted out. “All you need to do now is ask her out, start dating, marry and eventually have kids.”

“That is a little precipitated… and I am not asking her out, she will reject me.”

“Why would she reject you, she said you were the existential to her absurd or something, she gave you a ring literally, she also used light blue heart emoji which means I love your baby blue eyes beautiful.” Eren reassured his friend but Armin did not believe him at all. You would “never like him, in a million years”.

Eren simply gave a look to Armin, from what he had told him, it was kind of evident that you had a thing for Armin, but he was completely convinced that someone like you –whatever that meant– would never like someone like him –again, whatever that meant–. He just regarded you as a superior being, for some reason you two were in different categories even though he knew that intellectually you were kind of equals.

Next day came quickly, he got ready and was waiting for the time to leave when it suddenly started raining. Still he took an umbrella and a jacket and walked to the library. “Hiiii Armin!” You waved at the entrance, luckily you were close by when it started raining so you took cover under the entrance. “Hii.” He said with a soft smile, a little more comfortable but not completely. “I brought the book.” He showed from under his sweater and a smile formed in your lips.

Walking into the library you both realized that everyone was taking cover from the rain there, and that there were little to no seats available.

Except from…

“There!” You pointed throwing the book at the sofa from Armin’s hands to prevent other person from seating there. “Do you mind seating together? I think we fit.”

His cheeks got pale pink blushed. He looked at the gap in the sofa doubting he would fit, at least not without being extremely close to you.

“Uhmm…” He stood there for a second and ultimately decided to sit to not make you wait.

“I like your fit!” You complimented and he nodded.

“I like yours too. Where do you buy that?” He tried asking the questions that Eren had set up for him.

“Well the jacket is from Sex Pot Revenge, the shirt from Mad Punks and the pants I made myself.” You pointed at the clothes. He had never heard of those brands and being honest to himself, the word sex still made him kinda uncomfortable when thrown around casually.

“Is that goth?” He asked very kindly, following the words of Eren to the dot, “My best friend is a goth and she dresses kind of similar.”

“Hmm I know what you mean,” You started explaining, “I am goth but I suppose this is not a goth-ish look, right now it’s more of a vkei outfit. Do you mind if I explain it next time?”

Next time. I smile formed in his lips, so subtle and gentle, it adorned his face in such a beautiful way that it genuinely made your heart skip a beat.

He shook his head, of course he wouldn’t mind, he would fucking love it.

“Let’s get to the reading then.” You said taking the book from your lap. You flipped through the pages and saw his small handwriting covering the margins of the book in a thoughtful and organized manner. Where Nightfall was printed in big bold letters you stopped.

There was some kind of lack of coordination for the first pages you two read, sometimes he would flip the page before you were done or viceversa, but eventually you both adapted somehow to the reading speed of each other, since there was little to no difference anyway, and would give a look at the other one when done with the page.

That of course would not always account for calculations errors and your hands would brush with the other’s more often than what you’d like to admit. And his cologne would reverberate through the air and make you dizzy in love so you would forget what paragraph you were reading.

“Ow I am so hungry…” Suddenly you felt convalescent, you had breakfast at 9am and it was now 4pm.

“Do you wanna stop and go eat?” He asked lifting his eyes from the paper.

“Hmm, sure, let’s go then, the rain cleared out already.” You stood up and grabbed your things.

Armin had meant that you could go and eat, on your own, but seeing that you immediately included him left another of those lingering smiles in his face. He quickly stood up and walked besides you.

“So what do you think of it?” You asked him referring to the book.

“Immediately reminded me of when I learned that our galaxy and the Andromeda galaxy will crash eventually and I started freaking out.” He recalled a little embarrassed.

“That’s a shared experience for sure, cosmic horror is scary in such a way! My modern version of that is thinking about strange matter devouring everything.”

He was screaming in his head, punching the wall even. Where had you been all his life. His heart was genuinely aching from how fast it was beating. Maybe his heart was beating so fast that it could also be catalogued as a neutron star and his revolting feelings for you were everlasting changing and growing like strange matter.

“So stable that whatever it comes across transforms to emulate that stability.” He mumbled and you nodded, praising his intellect.

“Wanna take the bus into town? I can’t drive.” You asked and he nodded, also commenting that he couldn’t drive either. The bus ride was filled with back and forth debates about Nightfall and other trivial things that came up. Once you both got to the little college town, you decided on a restaurant. Armin only drank some juice and watched you eat lunch.

“I love taking the bus when is empty.” You mentioned getting on the bus, Armin was quick to say agree; he ached for spending more time with you.

“Bye, I had fun.” Once back at campus, and about to part ways, Armin said goodbye.

“Bye ‘Min. See you next time.” You gave him a quick hug and left.

He stood there for some minutes before rushing to get back to his dorm, Eren needed to know it all.