#let’s hope the quality stays up for the short part that is left

[that-irrelevant-ricecakeaddict]

"Use me like a drug!"

Drug Dealer! Seonghwa x f!reader

Highly requested part 2 of:

Drug Dealer! Seonghwa: "She's a regular here..."

Part 3 is out!!

Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the love on my first part of Drug Dealer! Seonghwa <33 Special shoutout to @ygswl for letting me use her ideas for my writing~ I hope you enjoy this continuation as much as the original!

Ps. Sorry if its not as intense as you hope it would be 😭 I'm the most romantic aroace person u will ever meet, I like NEED to include romantic stuff

CW: mentions of drug dealing/mafia/illegal businesses, drug dealer! Seonghwa, yunho cameo, seonghwa and reader are dating, fluff,!!SMUT!!, unprotected sex (pls stay safe yall), consensual somnophilia/free use, seonghwa cries cuz pussy too good 🙏

Seonghwa hung up the phone, his face a mix of irritation and anxiety. He started pacing the length of his office's shabby rug. MATZ had recently been losing customers, courtesy of the new company, PARADIGM, that entered the industry less than a month ago. He had just gotten off a call with Yunho, his supplier and good friend who had intel on them. PARADIGM was apparently backed up by the son of a rich mafia leader in the city. This meant that they had higher budget, higher manpower, and higher quality goods. And they were quickly stealing MATZ's spotlight in the local drug-dealing scene. Of course, Seonghwa was willing to resort to dirty tactics to get back his customers. But even if he was able to find a group of hitmen to raid and temporarily disrupt their business, MATZ would face even worse collateral damage in the process. After all, MATZ was still a way smaller operation compared to PARADIGM. This news was nothing but trouble for Seonghwa and Hongjoong's business and livelihood, and he knew it.

He continued pacing the room, swearing out loud when he accidentally stubbed his toe against the coffee table's leg. However, he quickly cut himself off when he remembered you were resting on the couch. Tiptoeing over to the slightly-battered, leather sofa in the middle of his office, Seonghwa caught a glimpse of you sleeping peacefully under one of his coats. His tense expression softened slightly. Ever since he had fucked you in one of his new faux fur coats, you'd started stealing his jackets and coats, often using them as makeshift blankets whenever you visited or felt lonely when he wasn't around.

He sighed as he thought about how you had came over on your free day to spend time with him, but had ended up falling asleep when he was taking too long to answer customers' calls and order cancellations. It was a tough, busy period for MATZ, yet you would patiently wait for Seonghwa to make time for you, wasting yours in the process.

"I need to lie down..." He mumbled to himself, as he made his way over to where you were snoring lightly on the couch. Perhaps cuddling up to his beloved girlfriend for a nap would help to temporarily ease the building migraine work was giving him. He stepped over your discarded clothes on the floor, taking note of how the jean shorts and flimsy t-shirt were probably uncomfortable for you to sleep in. Running one hand through his messy locks, Seonghwa unbuttoned his collar with the other to give himself a little breathing room, before carefully getting under his coat to spoon you.

However, despite the presence of your comforting scent and warmth, he still couldn't get the possibility of losing his beloved business out of his head. He knew that it was understandable to be concerned, but he was struggling just to find something else to think about, even if it was only momentary. Suddenly, he winced at the feeling of something pushing against his groin.

Looking down, he realised you were unknowingly pushing your soft ass against him. Your skimpy silk sleep shorts left little to imagination, and Seonghwa could already feel himself getting hard. He groaned under his breath. Out of all times he had to be horny for his girlfriend, why'd it have to be when you were asleep? The last thing he'd want to do would be disrupting your rest when you were exhausted from a long week of classes.

This, however, brought him back to a text conversation you had with him just a few days earlier. You'd noticed how Seonghwa had been very stressed lately, and had brought up the concept of free use to him. Essentially, you gave him your permission to let him use you for stress relief, even if you were asleep. Seonghwa's heart ricocheted in his chest thinking about it, internally thanking the gods for sending an angel to him.

He carefully tugged down your silk shorts, chuckling at how you shuddered when his cold palms came in contact with your dewy skin. He was taken aback at the wet spot on your lilac panties. Were you expecting this? His face heated up at the thought of you being all ready for him to use at any moment. As if you weren't already the perfect girlfriend for him. Hurriedly, he tugged aside your panties and fumbled to pull down his own pants.

Seonghwa bit his lip, holding back a whimper as he sank his hard cock into you. His neck arched back, stretching out the letters tattooed across his long neck. He buried his face into your exposed shoulder, inhaling your scent as he effectively caged your frame into his larger one. His breath hitched when you whined and shifted in your sleep, but he exhaled a sigh of relief when you fell back into deep sleep with a satisfied look on your features.

Slowly, Seonghwa began thrusting in and out of you, setting a slow but comfortable rhythm for himself. He swallowed his moans as he leaned in to lick and suck at the skin under your jawline, leaving behind faint purple marks that would surely show later on. Even in your state of unconsciousness, your body reacted to Seonghwa's movements, clenching on him every now and then and letting out quiet moans. "S-shit, you're so good to me, sweetheart... my y/n," he mumbled more to himself than to you. "Even... even when you're tired and sleepy, you still help me out... I love you so m-much." The stress from work started to melt away, the migraine disappearing along with it. Your warmth and closeness was so overwhelmingly relieving that your boyfriend even started tearing up. His restrained moans turned to desperate whimpers and hiccups. He reflexively slid an arm around your soft waist, pulling you impossibly close to him and allowing his cockhead to hit an even deeper spot in you. This startled you awake with a loud moan.

You blinked sleepily at your surroundings, aware that Seonghwa was balls deep in you at the moment. He was too deep in pleasure to notice you'd woken up, though. You sucked in a breath when he hit that deep, new spot in your cunt again, tilting your head to leave a kiss on his tussled black hair, when you felt hot liquid dripping down your bare shoulders and sliding down your collarbone.

"Hwa? Baby?"

Seonghwa jumped a little, suddenly made aware that you'd woken up. He hesitantly lifted his head from your shoulder to make eye contact with you. Puffy, teary doe eyes stared back into your own.

"..hwa? Are you crying?"

"Oh...uhm, fuck, yeah, I'm so sorry, sweetheart--"

He started pulling away from you, embarrassed to be caught crying while literally fucking himself into you. But you grabbed his hand and looped it back around your waist, earning a befuddled look from your panting lover. You offered a smile. "Stressed?"

He gave a sheepish smile and nodded, lips trembling and eyes still shiny from crying. You gave him a kiss on the corner of his lips.

"So use me. Use me like a drug."

Seonghwa's eyes widened.

♡♡♡

Shortly after the two of you had finished, it was Seonghwa's turn to fall asleep. You quietly watched his chest rise and fall with every breath he took. The tears on his face that hadn't dried yet were gently wiped away by a tissue clutched in your fingers. How could he be so effortlessly beautiful? Your attention was quickly drawn away by Seonghwa's phone vibrating on the coffee table. Anxious that the noise might wake your knocked out boyfriend, you reached over to pick up the call.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Seonghwa? It's Yunho."

You let out a sigh of relief. You knew Yunho. He was a good friend of Seonghwa's and was also MATZ's supplier.

"Hey Yunho! This is y/n. Seonghwa's sleeping right now, and I don't wanna wake him up. What is it?"

"Oh my god y/n! Its been awhile since we talked. Seonghwa's resting? Thank god, honestly. Poor guy's been so stressed out lately, with that new company stealing all the customers. Did he happen to tell you about PARADIGM?"

"No, but they sound like trouble. Why'd you call him?"

"Fuck, yeah, I called because I got good news! There's another gang in the drug industry that's rivalling with PARADIGM. They're even planning to raid PARADIGM's hide-out within the next month. Both groups are around the same size and have similar backgrounds. High chance they'll wipe each other out when they eventually fight. I wanted to tell Seonghwa that he doesn't have to worry about losing MATZ anymore."

"Thank you so much, Yunho. I'll make sure to tell him the good news."

You hung up the call, bubbly with excitement and happiness. Seonghwa stirred in his sleep just as you hung up with Yunho. He rubbed at his eyes, mumbling a sleepy "who was that?". You leaned down to peck his lips, running your hand through his bedhair at the same time. "Go back to sleep first, baby. Rest and I'll tell you later." Seonghwa gave you a grateful grin and nodded before letting his head hit the couch pillow once more.

[quirekey]

pretty please write more abt d-16 and megatron im THIRSTY for more of him

Okay so anything about D16 / Megatron? Aight bet lets do this….. I MADE IT ANGST AAAAA

[ D16 / MEGATRON ] x [ GN!READER ]

[ d16 / megatron x cybertronian!gn!poet!reader ]

READER INTRO

You were a famous Cybertronian, known for your poetry. You loved to write about melodramatic stories that would give deep and unheard meanings. You are graceful and seemingly magical, being able to put somebody at ease with a few simple words. Your poems consisted of many types of romance because you thought that romance is something that really digs deep into somebody’s spark. You never had many friends because you weren’t social, but you did admire others that could socialise. Many cybertronians look up to you and you stay humble, including D16. Just to mention, you did have a cog.

HEADCANONS

- D16 has many idols that vary and one of them is you. He admires your fantastic vocabulary and the amount of emotional depth you are able to add to your poems. You looked so dreamy, the way you spoke, walked and wrote. D16 may or may not have a small crush on you.

- D16 was one persistent fan and his relentless want for your attention did give him a wanted ending. When you are out, many Cybertronians are talking to you and are wanting to receive writing tips, signatures or even just small glances and waves. D16 knew this so he made a gift (a little piece of energon and a letter) and was able to give it to you despite the crowd.

- You opened your gift when you got to your quarters and this warmed your spark so much. His gift was so miniture and cute. You then read his letter and it felt like you melted on the spot.

“From- D16 To- (Y/N)”

“Hi, I really wanted to talk to you in person but you seem out of my league so I thought a letter would fit best. I made this letter to tell you that you have inspired me to start writing myself. Your poems are so nice to read after every mining shift and I hope you make more in the future.”

- After you read the poem, this tiny miner has been lingering in your mind. You thought you had these thoughts because of his tiny gift, but they have gotten pretty far. You wanted this tiny bot in your arms, you wanted to show him the love and affection he deserves. You made a personal poem about how a mere gift has grown into undefined feelings.

- When you see him, you would talk straight to him first. This did catch him off-guard every time because his idol was talking to him. You would bring him gifts that you thought he would like and you would also give him one of your treasured pens. Though it was hard for him to take care of these gifts, he did try pretty hard to keep them clean and in-quality.

- You guys eventually became close friends and he does confess his love for you. He tried his best to be stoic but it was hard to keep his fluster away. You couldn’t resist him but decided that it’s best to be friends due to his and your part in society. You did like him back so there was still a chance.

- One day you were able to build the courage and tell the cogless bot how much you loved him. How you yearned to have him in your arms and for you to whisper words of sweet affirmation into his audio receptors. You had a serious problem with this lingering love so you had to spill it.

- Fortunately, you two started dating in secret. To make it short, it was very wholesome. Though you two were constantly distanced, you both knew that you were in each other’s processors.

- When he went from being D16 to Megatron, this conflicted you. Your brain told you to stay in Iacon with the autobots and Optimus Prime. Your spark told you to leave with the bot you have loved from the beginning and join the Decepticons with Megatron. Your spark that has been growing and blooming took over and you left Iacon for Megatron’s love.

- Megatron still had love for you and gave you a special role that did not require you to do any work. You wanted you to be happy. Just because he changed, doesn’t mean his spark has changed.

- All you do is write poems in your spacious and dim quarters. It's hard to feel comfort due to the yelling outside your room and it’s hard to get inspiration for your poems because all you are doing is evil. Sure, it isn’t impossible but it feels like it is in the situation you were in.

[fan-of-many24]

It’s you I want

(George O’Malley x gn!reader angst Alex Karev x gn!reader fluff)

Details: Nurse Y/N has fallen for Dr. O’Malley, but is overlooked time and again.

(Reader is described as shorter than Karev and O’Malley)

Word Count: 3.28k

You worked as a nurse at Seattle Grace for the past four years. You’ve seen your fair share of interns, some have stayed, some left, some are obnoxious and arrogant, and others are so passive that they get flushed out.

At first, this is what you thought would happen with George O’Malley. There were many times when you were at the nurses station, watching him get overshadowed by his fellow interns. You felt bad for him, and there was his whole puppy thing going on, so there were times when you would help him with his scut work, giving him pointers here and there.

After a while, you felt your feelings grow from pity, to friendship, to admiration. George was sweet, and caring. He would tell you about his family during downtimes, and you would talk about yours. You felt a connection with him that you haven’t felt in a while. But he also talked to you about Meredith. He would talk, and talk, and talk some more. He would gush about her beauty and her intelligence, how funny she was, every single quality was attractive to him. She was everything you weren’t. You knew nursing was in no way lower than being a doctor, but you felt somehow smaller than her.

But even with his feelings for Meredith you couldn’t put aside your own feelings for George. How he would bring you coffee in the mornings, buy you a little snack whenever you were having a rough day, hold you while you cried if you lost a patient. It was so hard to not fall for George O’Malley, and tried as you might you did.

You were venting to another nurse about your feelings for George.

“I just can’t get George out of my head,” you sighed, “he’s just so damn cute and so caring.”

“Y/N, honey, you have to tell him.” your friend responded.

“I can’t,” you shook your head, “not when he has eyes for someone else.”

A sweet voice butted in, “Who has eyes for someone else?”

You jumped and swiveled in your chair to see George standing there, leaning against the station. The other nurse took the opportunity to get back to her work. Your cheeks heated and eyes widened, “How much of that did you hear?”

“Not much, just the end part about having eyes for someone else.” George explained, “So who’s the lucky guy?”

You breathed a subtle sigh of relief to this, “Nobody, really, it doesn’t matter.” You tried to go about your work.

“C’mon, Y/N,” he groaned, “this is the first time you’ve expressed interest in someone!”

That he knew.

You could tell he wasn’t about to let this go. You looked around, hoping to get an idea of what to say.

Eventually your eyes land on Dr. Karev talking to Dr. Stevens.

“Karev.” You stated, hoping he believed it.

George widened his eyes and shook his head quickly at that. “Alex? Really? He doesn’t seem like your type.”

He’s not.

“I don’t know something about him,” you lied, “he’s just so dreamy.”

You internally vomited. Alex Karev was a manwhore and hellspawn. He’s slept with half of the nurses, and insulted the other half. He hadn’t done either in his short interactions with you, luckily, but that didn’t help your opinion of him.

George was silent for a few seconds, blinking a bit rapidly, before he smiled at you.

“How about I set you up on a date with him?” he suggested.

Now you were gonna vomit.

“Oh no,” you shook your head and your hands, “no need, besides I don’t think he’d go for someone like me?” Your chest tightened in dejection.

“Someone like you?” George asked in surprise, “Y/N, you’re amazing! I can’t imagine anyone would turn you down.”

You bit your lip, chest tightening even more. George didn’t realize how he was squeezing your heart, threatening to destroy it. You thought about it for a second before you closed your eyes.

“Fine,” you sighed.

“Alright!” he jeered, “Y/N, I know what it’s like not to be noticed. You deserve this, even if I don’t really understand your interest in him.”

You sighed once more before George gave you two thumbs up and backed away before rushing off.

Once he was out of sight you groaned and dropped your head into your hands.

You heard the swivel of a chair once more, “you’ve gotten yourself into a big mess here, Y/N.”

You turned your head to look to your friend again, “Who knows, maybe Alex will help me get my mind off George.”

Not letting your mind linger on the thought much longer, you went back to work checking in on patients and updating charts. Before long you forgot about George’s suggestion, focusing completely on your work.

The end of the day came and you were getting ready to punch out before a knock on the desk alerted you to the presence of someone in front of you. You looked up to see none other than Alex Karev. Your eyes widened and you saw George not too far behind him giving you two thumbs up.

“Y/N,” Alex smiled, “a little birdie told me you may have taken a bit of an interest in me.”

You gave him a thin smile back, blinking at his boldness.

“Did they? And what do you think of that?” you asked, hoping for rejection.

“I think,” he leaned in, “I should take you out to dinner.”

Your cheek flushed. You weren’t used to someone taking an interest in you, let alone be so forward with it.

“Um, yeah, sure.” you stammered, smiling shyly.

“Drinks tomorrow? Meet here at 8?” he suggested with a sly smile.

“Sure,” you agreed, “it’s a date.”

Alex smiled and knocked once more, walking away.

Your heart was beating faster than you thought it would. Unexpectedly so.

“Sooo…” George inquired, worried.

“We’re getting drinks tomorrow.” you smiled a bit wistfully.

“What?”

“What?”

“You’re going on a date?” George asked incredulously.

You recoiled a bit at that, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing just…” he trailed

“No, go on.” you insisted, getting a bit heated, “what do you mean?”

“You just don’t seem like his type.” he admitted.

You blinked at him a few times and licked your teeth.

“Am I undateable?” you urged, nodding your head.

“What?!” George almost shouted, “No, that’s not what I meant.”

“That’s what it sounded like.” you countered, “I’m not a nun. Men find me attractive.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Y/N.”

“No, you’re just surprised that he would go on a date with me.” you stated roughly, “You know what George, I’m heading out.”

You clocked out, grabbing your bag and rushed away.

The drive home had you stewing, angry punk music playing over the radio. When you got home you slammed the apartment door closed, thinking of George’s reaction to your date with Alex. He was the one who suggested a date, why would he do that if he didn’t think it would happen? Where did he find the audacity to tell you that you weren’t Alex’s type? You had listened to him go on and on about Meredith, so why was he acting like this when something romantic was happening to you?

All of these thoughts ran through your head before another solidified within your mind. You were going to treat tomorrow like an actual date. Whether you were originally interested or not, you are now. You went to the bathroom to prepare for the next day, shaving, exfoliating, and a face mask. You went to bed determined to make the date successful.

The morning came and you had a shift right before the date. You wore your scrubs but packed your best outfit for after, making sure that it wouldn’t get too wrinkled.

You went about your day as you would usually, except for avoiding George here and there. Any time that you would see him approaching you shot him a look that led him away. You were still pissed off and didn’t want to see him.

The day came to an end and you changed into your outfit. It fit you in all the right places, putting your best features on display. You looked into the mirror, fixed a few pieces of hair and sighed. You were actually anxious, and not in a I-don’t-wanna-go way but in a I-want-this-to-go-well way. Thinking about it throughout the day you realized that Alex Karev was attractive, and even though you had heard bad things about him, he hadn’t done anything to you. You were starting to get a bit giddy.

You walked out to the nurses station and saw Alex waiting for you in a nice pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a flannel. When he looked up to see you, a small smile spread across his face. He took a few steps to meet you where you were, a small gesture but one you noticed.

“You look,” Alex breathed, “good.”

You blushed and smiled under his gaze, “you do too.”

Alex scratched the back of his neck and let out a small chuckle.

“Joe’s?” you suggested.

“Yeah.” he smiled, “let’s go.”

You both walked in comfortable silence, shoulders bumping now and then.

When you got to the bar it was a bit crowded but not too loud. You scanned the bar for seats and locked eyes with George, who was sitting with Meredith and Christina. You quickly looked away and found a booth in the corner, away from the crowd.

You tugged on Alex’s sleeve and nodded towards the booth. He nodded back before taking your hand and leading you through the crowd of people. The action was shocking to you, and made your heart race. Once you got there, Alex sat you down and asked what you wanted. You gave him the drink, he nodded before going to the bar to order.

You sat there and stared at the table, feeling your cheeks with the back of your hand, surprised to feel them flushed. You smiled to yourself, surprised. So far Alex was nothing if not a gentleman and you were a bit happy you decided to go on the date.

After a beat you could feel holes being bored into your skull, you turned your head to see the trio from earlier staring at you. Meredith was staring with amusement, Christina with curiosity, and George with an expression you couldn’t read. They all looked away quickly, Christina and Meredith giggling a bit and George silent. You shook your head, not letting them get to you, and Alex returned with your drinks and a basket of peanuts.

You thanked him as he set your drink in front of you and took a small sip. He nodded and smiled in response. You decided that if this date was going to be successful you had to be bold.

“So, Alex,” you started, “why ask me on a date?”

He looked at you curiously, a mischievous smile playing on his face.

“Well, one, you were interested,” he counted off, to which you rolled your eyes, “and two you’re… admirable.”

You blinked back at him, smile splitting across your face, “Admirable?”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” he shakes his head, “your presence is commanding. You have the respect of the doctors, of your peers, hell you have my respect. You advocate for your patients and you actually care for each and every one of them. You’re admirable.”

You sat there a bit stunned. Alex admired you. He respected you. He saw you. He saw you. For the first time in a long time you felt appreciated and proud.

“Now you,” he insisted, “why me? I mean I do have a reputation.”

You didn’t think he would ask you that, which was a bit stupid considering you just asked him. You thought for a second. Why were you excited earlier? Why not turn down the date? Thinking back on your interactions with Alex Karev, you had an answer.

“One,” you numbered, mirroring him, “you’re pretty easy on the eyes.” He chuckled at your admission.

“And two, you work hard. Harder than most. Sure you walk around all cocky but I can see that you don’t just want to be a doctor, but a good doctor.”

He looked away smiling, scratching his neck again, a nervous habit you noted.

As the night went on, the conversation flowed rather freely. You both talked about interesting cases, hobbies outside of work, traded funny stories. You didn’t expect it but the two of you clicked rather easily. He wasn’t afraid to express his attraction to you and you liked the attention. He made you laugh. Really laugh, even if it was teasingly at your expense. You ribbed him just as hard, to which he would laugh. You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the attention or just Alex, but you were genuinely enjoying yourself.

It was getting late and as you were just getting off your shift it was time to go home. You and Karev walked out the bar together, arms touching, practically holding hands. He hailed you a cab and opened the door for you.

“Thank you for tonight,” you started, “it was… really great.” You smiled up at him, cheeks flushed.

“I had a good time too,” Alex admitted, “I would, uh, like to do it again sometime.”

“Me too,” you agreed.

You bit your lip a bit sheepishly before leaning forward and planting a kiss on his cheek. He looked a bit shocked but smiled.

“See you later, Alex,” you waved goodbye, closing the door and giving the driver your address.

You closed the door to your apartment and leaned against it, covering your mouth and smiling a bit. Being around Alex seemed… easy. He was more caring and thoughtful than he looked. It wasn’t hard to like him. The conversation never got boring. As all of these thoughts ran through your mind, you realized something. You hadn’t thought of George almost the entire night. Maybe, you didn’t need to.

You took a shower, letting the hot water run over you. All you could think about was Alex and when you’d see him next. You had the next day off, but you would see him when you worked next. The idea of it planted a smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach. That night you went to sleep content.

The next few weeks had you floating. You and George were talking again after he apologized but that’s not why. Alex Karev was the reason. He would come visit you at the nurses station, flirting and joking. On the occasion that you had lunch at the same time, you would eat together, sharing your food at times. You went on a second date and then a third. After the third, you felt bad about how everything started. About not being honest with Alex. After work one day, you pulled Alex aside into an on-call room.

Your heart was going to beat out of your chest. What if this hurt him? What if he thought you were pathetic? What if he wanted to break things off?

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Alex asked, “are you okay?”

The concern in his voice made you feel even worse, you were pacing a bit.

“I have to tell you something,” you sighed, “I haven’t been completely honest with you. And it’s eating me up.”

“What is it?” Alex placed a hand on your shoulder.

You looked into his eyes and frowned before looking down.

“So our first date,” you started, “you know how George told you I was interested in you? I wasn’t. I had feelings for George and he walked up on me talking about it and asked who I was talking about and I said you and I didn’t expect him to set us up. But I really did want to go on that date with you and I really did enjoy it, and it’s not just me getting over him I really really like you, and I felt so bad not being honest.”

“Y/N-“ he interrupted.

“Please don’t hate me.” you pleaded.

“Y/N!” He put both of his hands on your shoulders, “I know.”

“What?” you breathed.

“I know you had feelings for George,” he confessed, “I could see the way you looked at him. I was surprised when he said you had feelings for me. I figured I’d ask you out, you’d say no, and that was that. But you said yes, and I had the best time. And then we went on a second date and suddenly, you didn’t look at George the way you used to. I don’t care if you had feelings for George, as long as I’m the one you want now.”

You smiled up at him wistfully, bringing his face down to yours for a kiss.

You had kissed before, but they were just a few quick pecks at the end of the date. This was something more, it was soft and deep. Passionate but not lustful. It was everything you could have ever hoped it would be. The two of you broke away and you looked up at him, arms around his neck, “Alex Karev, you are the one I want.” He smiled before leaning down and kissing you again.

That day was the day your relationship with Alex truly started. He introduced you officially to the rest of the interns, aside from George, who you already knew. You’d sit with the five of them during lunch from time to time. There were times when you would catch George looking at you weird or rolling his eyes at you and Alex.

All of this came to a head one day when George caught you as you were about to leave. You were going to have a movie night with Alex, the two of you holding hands about to walk out the door.

“Y/N,” George called as he jogged up to you, “I need to talk to you.”

You looked to Alex and told him to go ahead, giving him a kiss on the cheek before approaching George.

“What’s up George?” you asked.

He pulled you aside into a on-call room for a bit of privacy. He looked around and took a heavy sigh.

“Break up with Karev.” he stated, as if he were mentioning the weather.

“I’m sorry, what?” you almost shouted.

“Look, Alex isn’t right for you,” he explained, “I didn’t realize it before but.. Y/N I want you. I need you.”

You stood there, staring at the man in front of you, trying to find any hint of a joke in his expression. When you couldn’t find any you felt a wave of anger wash over you.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you actually shouted this time, “you need me? I fucking pine after you for months, listening to you gush about Meredith, and now that I’m happy with Alex you fucking NEED me. No. No, I can’t, George. You are far too late. Alex actually sees me. He’s direct and makes me feel secure. He’s loving and caring and funny and I can’t go through what you put me through again. I can’t.”

You turned around and left the room, slamming the door behind you. You sped out the door and into the parking lot, seeing Alex waiting for you by his car. You walked up and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“I’ll tell you when we’re home, you’ll thank me later.” you smiled up, kissing him.

[nightunite]

I know we’re not there yet, but I was struck with the idea of Konig having this secret project that he won’t tell reader about once he’s proposed, and reader is starting to get anxious again because maybe she likes Konig just a little. But anyways. The surprise? Is a nursery Konig was putting together because he knew the wedding planning stuff was stressing reader out.

Listen I love this version of Konig the honorable good he is.

🕵️‍♀️

He truly is a good man isn't he? This took me a while to come up with, and my search results look weird now (we love getting ads that don't apply to us), but I'm hoping this turns out good! @beloveds-embrace COME GET YA FOOD

Konig spent a lot of time outdoors recently. She knows this is common, that between hunting season and visiting his lumber yards and his general avoidance of people, he spends more time camped under the stars than his own roof. It's why his return to the barony had stirred up the townsfolk in the first place, carrying rumors of a potential job on the breeze. His staying inside was unusual, owing to the winter being wetter than expected, freezing anything edible in the earth. However, she notes with a bit of guilt as she bites her lip, if anything that would free him to spend more time away from the town as a whole. He should have left to visit the various woods he lay claim to, overseeing and inspecting the lumberyards to ensure there was no decrease in quality as harvesting ramped up with trees long since dormant. No, he stuck around because a doe had wandered in from those very woods, carrying a fawn he intended to claim as his own. Since that night in the cellar roughly two months ago, Konig (Xander, she reminded herself, he will be your husband, call him by his first name) remained firmly at her side, only parting when necessary or to retire to their rooms for the evening, a gentle kiss pressed to her forehead before they both retreat red-faced. Thankfully he took to doing it only when no one else was present, lest one of the others playfully leer and tease them. The first time that happened Xander had pivoted on his heel so quickly he'd collided with a short table, knocking it and the vase atop it to the floor. She couldn't help her giggle at the sight of him, nervously fidgeting as he righted the table and had the workers clean up the shards of porcelain. Such a large man being so cute truly was a sight to see. Yet in the past fortnight, after Duke MacTavish's unexpected visit, he spent copious amounts of time in his workshop, a large shed of sorts set apart from the rest of the home. The sounds of machinery could be heard buzzing to life at the strangest of hours, dim light aglow from one of the windows in the dark of night. He snuck off to it during the day when she was resting or busy finalizing plans for the wedding as well, citing that he had no preferences one way or another for flowers or food, that it was her day. When she voiced her concerns of how the other nobility would critique her choices, he shrugged. "As I said before, mein ricke, let them talk. They have no say in our home, and if they come to our door I will send them away much like Duke MacTavish." Thankfully the ladies of the house had strong opinions on things, from who would walk her down the aisle (Felix would be honored to), to the type of bouquet (Edelweiss, Magnolia, Queen Anne's Lace, an all-white bouquet), to the desserts served (Kennedy would be handling those, already having her taste test during lunches; she was partial to chocolate, though that could be the baby's preference). It helped, having companions who could help her wade through the choice fatigue. Though, it would be nice if Xander showed some preferences of his own, a sign that he wasn't getting cold feet over this union. Can you get cold feet when you never had fiery passion to start? "Madame? The Baron requests your presence in the nursery." She jolts from her thoughts, sitting up from where she lounges on her bed. She follows dutifully after the young man, one of the gardeners, as he leads her up the stairs and to where her fiancé awaits.

Something else that keeps them preoccupied, preparing the nursery for the new arrival. Word had spread beyond the barony of the heir to arrive in the cradle of summer, the shocking news of the wedding rippling through the community only a week prior. While she focuses on the upcoming ceremony, he and Felix took to the renovations of a spare storage room. Xander requested her not to set foot in the nursery the past week for hers and the baby’s safety, fresh coats of paint applied and needing to properly air out. Stepping inside she sees him first, silhouetted by the evening sun streaming in from the wide bay windows, soft cream curtains pulled aside. The golden light wrapping around him a contrast to the gentle periwinkle walls, painting him like a heroic figure from one of those romance novels Emily giggles about. Her heart squeezes a little; he remembered her favorite color, despite her only mentioning it in passing once on a stroll through the garden. Yet what brings tears to her eyes, mouth covered by a shaking hand, is the sight of the furniture in the room.

They hadn’t yet picked any out, choosing to wait until the walls and flooring were finished before heading into town to browse and possibly commission some pieces. They discussed it frequently though when they were together, Xander gently massaging whatever part of her ached as they spoke in low tones. What color should the wood be for the crib, how high the changing station should stand, what type of chairs and how many. Xander walked her through her opinions on all of it, and she thought it was simply to have some idea of what to look for when they finally made their way to buy furniture.

Instead, every bit of what she told him had been carefully incorporated in the furniture already in the room. The two chairs with cushioned seats like those in his study, a dark-stained changing station set at perfect height so she wouldn’t be forced to bend down, thick circular rug under her feet to keep back the chill of the winter through the hardwood. But the masterpiece was by far the crib and she can’t resist stepping closer and stroking a hand along the top of it.

Perfectly crafted from birch wood, edges sanded down into gentle curves and sealed so as to prevent splinters. She traces along the curves, admiring the carpentry on the ornate designs, edelweiss and magnolia blossoms lining the headboard, amaryllis and sunflowers at the baseboard. No awkward edges, every piece seamlessly connected, as though simply carved as a single piece from a birch log. Hanging from it is a small wooden mobile, charms of various animals dangling below, gently spinning when she rotates it with her hand.

“I-“ She turns to look at Xander, finding him standing beside her, rubbing at his fingers.

“This is beautiful. All of it. Where did you-“ She cuts herself off, connecting the dots.

Birch wood, his main export from the lumberyards.

The questions about every possible detail, as though he were trying to pluck her idea and bring it to life.

The late nights in the shed, machinery whirring, creating all the artistry on display before her now.

“You cradle them for so long. I thought I should do the same.” He’s bashful, scratching at his neck and nipping his lip, ears aflame even in the evening glow. Saying it so simply, as though he hadn’t poured hours of time and years of experience into this. As though he hadn’t spent what little free time he had between the suit fittings and wedding invitations and still running a barony working his hands through splinters and cramping to ensure it was finished well before the baby was due. It's worth it though, for how she stares up at him, teary eyed and grateful, sniffling as she thanks him.

It's when he hunches over that she catches sight of something set atop the table. She steps around him, reaching down to poke at the little figures and almost immediately bursts into tears again. There, carefully set on a round crochet cloth, were the wooden figures of three animals. A stag with mighty antlers gently pressing his nose to a doe, with a little spotted fawn curled up beside her, a replica of their little family made by Xander’s own hands. She picks up the fawn, thumb sliding over the smooth wood, the little white spots a stark contrast to the rich brown of the wood.

“Do you like it?” He asks her, hovering once more. He worried over whether it was too much, too presumptuous of him to make them, crossing an unspoken boundary like when he implored she call him by his first name.

She gently sets the fawn down, turning to him and swiftly tugging his head down. He lets out a small noise when their lips connect before he gently cradles the side of her face, stepping as closely as her bump will allow. Her own hands settle on his chest, the rabbit-fast beating of his heart echoing in her own. All things considered, it’s a chaste kiss, no more than a few seconds, yet when she pulls back she’s slightly dazed, lips tingling and eyes opening despite her not recalling closing them. It takes a moment for her to realize what she’s done but it sets her nerves alight when it clicks.

“I’m so sorry Xander, I just-this was all so sweet and I wasn’t-“ She’s cut off when he gently runs a thumb over her bottom lip, tilting her head up from where she’d ducked down in embarrassment. There’s a simmering sensation in her stomach when she stares into his eyes, half lidded and pupils wider, the usual icy blue darkened as though melting under the heat. She can’t help but look at his mouth, think of how it felt against her own.

“You worry too much.” He tells her, settling his free hand on her hip.

“May I kiss you again?” He’s leaning in again, eyes on her mouth, wanting to see how red he can paint it with his own.

“Please” She whispers against his mouth.

So he does.

Over, and over, and over.

[mountsmase]

a/n: hello 🫶🏻 this is the long awaited part 2 of Missed You! I’ve had the concept for this sat in my drafts for ages but I finally got around to writing it and it feels like it took forever but it’s finally here 🤭 I feel like my writing has changed loads since I posted the first part and I really hope you enjoy this fic! Feedback is always appreciated 💛 (this can also be read as a stand alone x)

word count: 4.5k

genre: smut (+ a teeny bit of fluff)

———————

Missed This - MM7

(Missed You Part II)

“Still just us” Mason smiles as he follows you through to the kitchen/living area, finding the villa still empty like he hoped it would be.

You hop up onto the counter, dangling your legs over the side and watching as he gets a glass from the cupboard and fills it with water, taking a few sips before coming over to you.

“Thank you” you take the glass from him when he offers it, drinking the rest of the water before placing it to the side and spreading your legs for him when he moves to stand between them.

You’re currently on holiday with his family, staying in a villa big enough to accommodate all of you and you’re having the best time, but after a busy couple of weeks leading up to the trip, Mason has been craving some quality time with you. He organised for you to have a little date night and after an evening at the beach, swimming and watching the sun set, you’re glad to find his family are still out for the evening, allowing for a little more time alone with him.

His arms wrap around your waist, tugging you closer to the edge of the counter and you instinctively wrap your legs around his torso, leaning into him when he presses his lips against yours softly before dipping his head into your neck.

You relax into him when his warm lips brush over your skin, tilting your head to the side to allow him more access and he hums against you when you bring a hand to the back of his head, nails scratching over his scalp the way he loves.

“Mase” You sigh, feeling him suck over your most sensitive spot, nipping at the delicate skin before soothing over the sting with his tongue, “Please”

He pulls back slightly, raising a hand to brush your flowy shirt away from your shoulder before resuming his kisses, his path now unobstructed as he trails his lips down your throat and over your collar bone.

“What do you need bubba?” He murmurs, already knowing the answer but needing to here you say it.

“Y-you, please”

You feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin. “How about you head upstairs and start a shower? I’ll just pop the left overs into the fridge and I’ll be right behind you”

“Okay” you answer, voice barely above a whisper and he leaves a lingering kiss to your cheek before letting you hop down from the counter. He taps your bum, sending you a wink as you walk past him and towards the stairs.

Excited butterflies swarm in your tummy when you step into the bedroom, throwing your little bag towards the bed haphazardly as you kick your flip flops off before heading into the bathroom.

It’s not long until Mason is joining you, having only just removed your over shirt and shorts when you see him walk into the en-suite, closing the door behind himself and flicking the lock just in case before moving towards you.

His arms wrap around your waist as he steps up behind you, fingers brushing over your soft skin as you lean back into his body with a sigh. You drop your head back against his shoulder, tilting it slightly so that you can look up at him. Your eyes flicker from his freckles that you adore so much to the reddened patch of skin on the bridge of his nose before meeting his gaze.

His eyes are dark, swirling with an emotion that you don’t quite have enough time to make out because he’s leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, breaking you out of your little trace.

He keeps the kiss soft, just a simple brush of his lips over your own and then he’s pulling away again, scattering a couple of kisses against your jaw before nodding his head towards the mirror and you straighten up, facing forward when he speaks.

“Can’t believe I’ve had to watch you walk around in these pretty little bikinis all week and not be able to do anything about it” he tells you, lips right next to your ear, “you’ve made it so hard not to just pull you in here and fuck you senseless”

His gruff voice and dirty words have your thoughts spiralling. You’ve not had much time to be intimate together recently, just the occasional quickie here and there with busy schedules wearing you both out on the lead up to this holiday, and thinking back to the last couple of days, you’re impressed you’ve made it this far without giving into your temptations.

With all of his lingering gazes and those teasing touches when no one’s paying attention. The way he’s been driving you crazy without even trying, wearing nothing but swim shorts for the best part of the day with his sun kissed body brushing against yours whenever he’s close to you. The way he kissed you back at the beach and the silent promises of what’s to come next.

The feel of his fingertips moving against your waist snaps you from your brief train of thoughts, goosebumps erupting over your skin as he brushes them down your sides until he finds the thin material of your bikini.

“Do you have any idea,” his dark eyes meet yours in the reflection, “what you do to me when you wear this?”

He toys with the knots that hold your bottoms together, the flimsy material threatening to fall apart under his touch and you swallow nervously, that all too familiar look in his eyes telling you exactly what kind of mood he’s in.

“I don’t think I do,” You definitely do “Why don’t you show me?”

He lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head at your innocent act, but your facade soon falters when he takes a hold of your hips, pulling you one step back so that your body is flush with his. The closeness has you feeling more of him, his crotch now pressed against your lower back and you can feel his length straining through the material of his shorts.

You try your luck, wiggling your hips back against him and his eyes flutter closed, losing his composure for a moment before he quickly regains it and tightens his grip on your waist, halting your movements.

“Stand still” he murmurs, your tummy flip flopping at the tone of his voice and you have to stop yourself from repeating your actions, switching your focus to his hands that are still sat on your hips.

“As much as I love when you wear this, I’d prefer it off” he motions to the black fabric that’s still covering your body and you lift your arms, reaching to untie the knots but he’s quick in stopping you, moving your hands back to your sides and sending you a pointed look.

He tuts, “I thought I said stand still”

“Sorry”

“No you’re not” he fights back a smile, watching through the mirror as you tug your bottom lip between your teeth and shake your head. “Keep them there”

You shiver when he grazes his fingertips back up the sides of your body, your eyes following his every move as he finds the strings of your bikini top and you feel it loosening when he pulls them undone. It drops to the floor, leaving your top half bare and you want to protest against the fact that he’s still fully clothed, but you think better of it, a quiet gasp escaping your lips when he slides a hand around your body.

He cups his palm over your boob, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and he smirks to himself when he feels the nub hardening under his touch, his other hand coming up to the neglected side and mirroring his actions.

You can tell that he’s not rushing, taking his time to love on you the way he pleases, and for a while, you let him. Relaxing into his touch as he continues teasing and pinching over your nipples, tracing patterns into the sensitive skin around them until you grow impatient and begin squirming against him in a silent plea for more.

His hands drift back down your waist, a certain warmth spreading through you as he unties the first of the bows on your bottoms, the second one coming undone soon after as he discards the material to the growing pile of clothes by your feet.

His eyes burn as they rake along your body, taking you in through the reflection, and your skin grows hot under his intense gaze, leaning back into his warmth when his arms circle your waist. He takes in every inch of you, every curve, every tan line, all of your little freckles and moles. To him, you’re perfect.

“So fucking pretty,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your shoulder “my gorgeous girl”

Your entire body lights up from his words, cheeks burning as he presses a few more kisses to your shoulder and steps away. You miss his touch immediately, pouting at him as he turns and starts the shower, making sure the temperature is right before coming back to you.

“Get in” his words are short, the instruction simple as he nods to the shower and you follow his request, stepping under the stream of water and watching through the glass as he quickly rids himself of his own clothes before stepping in behind you.

His lips are on yours instantly, swallowing your gasp as he backs you up against the cold tiled wall, one of his hands finds your hip whilst the other gravitates up to cup your cheek, holding you to him as you melt into the kiss.

He works his lips against yours, humming into the kiss when you reach up and thread your fingers into his hair, tugging on the short locks when he coaxes his tongue between your lips and brushes it against yours.

His kisses are intoxicating, robbing the oxygen from your lungs with every drag of his tongue over yours, overcoming your senses until all you know is him. He tastes sweet, like the strawberries that you shared earlier, and you find yourself trying to pull him even closer, one of your hands sliding up his tattooed arm and gripping his shoulder as the other continues to pull and tug at his hair.

His lips never falter as he nudges his knee against your own, your thighs separating automatically and you moan into the kiss when he presses his leg between yours. His warm thigh presses against your core, tingles shooting down your spine and you can’t stop the way your hips buck from the friction.

“Easy baby, I’ve got you” he coos, tightening his grip on your hip and helping to calm your actions, rocking you against his thigh at a steadier pace, “That’s it”

His hot lips leave yours, trailing kisses over your jaw and you tilt your head back, giving him more access when they wander down your throat, nipping and sucking over your damp skin. He ducks his head further, kissing down your chest and leaving a small love bite just above your nipple before taking the hardened nub between his lips.

Your back arches as you grind helplessly against his thigh, pleasure tingling through your entire body when your clit brushes against the firm muscle and the series of moans and whimpers that slip past your lips have his cock jumping against your hip.

When he suddenly steps away you let out a groan in protest, disliking the lack of contact, but your frustration is short lived when his hands wander to your waist to gently turn you around, the stream of water now hitting your chest as he faces you away from him.

With one squeeze of your hips, he has you leaning into him, your back flush to his chest as he slides his hands around to your front. They work over your chest, his warm palms cupping over your boobs as he pinches and tugs at your nipples before moving south, the gentle caress of his fingers over your tummy causing you to tense up in anticipation of his next actions.

“Relax for me Angel, going to make you feel so good I promise” he murmurs right next to your ear, his fingers brushing lazily over your mound until he feels you sink back into him.

“Good girl” his voice is raspy, the praise sending tingles straight to where you need him as his hand dips lower.

His fingers tease through your wet folds, your breath catching in your throat as he coats them in your juices before circling over your sensitive nub.

“So wet for me baby” he coos, “Been waiting for this all week, huh?”

You can only nod as he lightly pinches your clit between his thumb and fore finger, resting his chin against your shoulder so that he can gaze down at where his hand disappears between your thighs.

“Mase” You moan, his length twitching in response to the drawn out sound that slips past your lips when he eventually dips a finger between your warm folds, burying it to the knuckle before starting to fuck you slowly.

“God, Y/N, you’re so fucking tight” he teases, inserting another digit and you sigh deeply when he curls them again your walls, “Can’t wait to be inside of you baby”

“Yes Mase - fuck - keep going, please” you pant, your body melting back into his when he attaches his thumb to your clit, brushing over it in quick circles that match the pace of his fingers.

Your knees go weak but he’s quick in bringing his free arm up to steady you, wrapping it around your waist securely and when you clutch onto it he’s not even bothered by the slight sting of pain caused by your nails digging into his skin.

He’s unrelenting, alternating between pulsing his fingers inside of you and curling them to brush against that spot that has you has you seeing stars, his thumb never stopping as he works you towards your release.

“M-Mason” you choke out, head falling back against his shoulder and your eyes flutter closed as your moans become more and more desperate. When he feels your walls clenching around his fingers, he knows you’re getting close to your high.

“Are you gonna cum for me, bubba?”

You nod, unable to form other coherent words but when he nips at your earlobe in warning and slows his movements you stutter out, “Y-Yes, please”

With a growl of approval, he leans down, his lips latching back onto your neck and you hit your high when he suctions them over your sweet spot, pleasure shooting through your entire body as he works you through your orgasm until you’re whimpering from the sensitivity.

He removes his fingers from you slowly, soothing them over your folds to collect your wetness before bringing them up to his mouth. You watch him over your shoulder, your cheeks flushing a deep shade of red when he hums around them, eyes fluttering closed when he gets a taste of you.

“Taste incredible baby” he murmurs, using the same hand to take your chin between his fingers, tilting your head slightly so that he can kiss you and you moan into his mouth when you taste yourself on his tongue.

He moves you both a little further under the water, arms wrapping tightly around your waist and he sways you softly as he gives you as long as you need to recover from your high.

“Feeling okay, bubs?” He whispers after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, but I need you” You respond, wiggling your hips a little and he chuckles at your impatience.

“But you’ve already got me, Angel” He tells you, and you huff out a sigh, not liking his teasing.

“Need to feel you inside of me, please Mason”

“Needy girl” He tuts, and you’re prepared to start begging him but he doesn’t let you, wasting no more time before nudging you forward once again.

Pressing on your lower back, he prompts you to lean forward, your arms instinctively reaching out to steady yourself against the wall as he nudges your legs apart slightly. His hand finds it’s home on your hip, massaging into your skin as the other wraps around the base of his cock, giving himself a few slow pumps.

“You ready, baby?” He hums, your heart fluttering at the simple question.

You nod, but that’s not enough for him. His hand comes down to leave a single slap to your bum and you jolt forward, teeth digging into your bottom lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape.

“You know I need to hear you say it”

“I’m ready, please Mase” You plead, just wanting to feel him, and he doesn’t need to be told twice as he lines himself up with your entrance, taking the time to brush his head over your clit before moving his hips forwards.

You moan simultaneously as he pushes into you slowly, his length filling you inch by inch until he’s buried to the hilt inside of you and the stretch is so sweet.

“Let me know when I can move, baby” he leans over you, scattering kisses over the top of your back whilst he gives you time to adjust to him, which you’re grateful for after a couple weeks of not having him like this, but it’s not long until you’re pushing your hips back against him.

“You can move, Mase” you whisper, tilting your head to try and catch a glimpse of him behind you and the sight has your heart thudding in your chest.

His wet hair is messy on top of his head, droplets of water falling from the strands and landing on your lower back as he towers over you. He’s still wearing his chain, the thin silver metal that you brought him earlier in the week standing out against his tanned chest. His cheeks are flushed and the bridge of his nose is red, his eyes clouded over as he looks down at where your bodies meet.

A groan rumbles in his throat as he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in, repeating that same action as he builds up to a steady rhythm. He keeps his pace slow at first, his hand tightening it’s grip on your hip and you’re sure there will be bruises there in the morning, but you can’t bring yourself to care as he fucks into you.

“Fuck, baby” he grunts, moving his free hand to your other hip, “So fucking tight for me” he pants, every word just making you clench around him tighter.

“N-need more, faster please” you whine, pushing your hips back in time with his.

On any other day you would love this pace, and that’s not to say you don’t right now, but you’re feeling especially needy today, just wanting him to have his way with you and he does not disappoint.

Each of his thrusts are as powerful and unforgiving as the last, your hands sliding against the tiled wall from the force of his hips against yours as sounds of slapping skin echo around the shower, mixing with your moans and cries.

It makes your head spin. The way he fucks you at such an aggressive pace, yet with so much love and intensity. Worshipping every inch of your body with his hands and lips as he pounds into you with no sign of stopping. But you don’t want him to.

He moves a hand from your hip, sliding it up the front of your body before closing it around your throat and tilting your head backwards, pulling you up so that you’re stood with your back to his chest as he gently squeezes.

“Mase. Mason. Fuck, right there” The words barely make it past your lips, cut off by a cry when he gives a deep, hard thrust. “So cl-close already, Mase”

“Yeah Angel? Gonna cum around my cock?” He drawls, slowing his thrusts slightly. He’s dangerously close to his own orgasm, but he wants to hold out a little longer for you, not wanting this to be over quite yet.

“Yes, p-please, need it”

“Gonna turn you around Angel, need to see you when you cum” he tells you, and you nod eagerly.

He’s gentle in pulling out of you, trying to be quick but as careful as he can be as he turns you around to face him again and backs you up against the tiles. His warm palm slides up the back of your thigh, finding the curve of your bum and giving it a squeeze before hooking your leg around his waist.

One of his hands lands on the wall beside your head, steadying himself as he reaches down with the other and he lines himself back up with your entrance, pushing himself in and quickly working back up to a strong pace.

The new position has his tip brushing against your sweet spot with every thrust, and you can feel every ridge of his length as he rocks his hips against yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, desperately needing something to hold onto as he works you towards your high, one of his own falling around your waist to hold you against him.

“I love you” he growls, forehead resting against yours, “so fucking much”

“Fuck, I love you too” you sob, your eyes fluttering closed when he moves his hand from the wall and slides it between your bodies, his thumb easily finding your clit and brushing against the sensitive nub.

“Mason…”

“I know baby, I know. Taking me so well” He gasps, lips brushing over your cheek. “Such a fucking good girl for me”

Your mouths meet desperately, his tongue pushing through your already swollen lips as he swallows your cries, his thumb still rubbing light circles over your clit and he can tell by the way you’re fluttering around him that your orgasm is fast approaching.

“Mase, shit” you pant against his lips,

“I’m right there with you” he tells you, his voice low and thick, “Let go for me Angel, I’ve got you”

That’s all you need, his arm tightening around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to him as your body goes limp against his. Your orgasm hits you with a cry of his name, his thrusts unrelenting as he chases his own high. It’s intense, your limbs turning to jelly as a wave of pleasure rolls through your entire body and you tremble against him as he works you through it.

He isn’t far behind you, the feeling of your walls hugging around him sending him tumbling towards his own orgasm and he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck as he hits his high, his hips faltering as he thrusts through it before eventually coming to a complete stop.

He keeps himself buried inside of you for a while, head still nuzzled away in your neck with his arms wrapped tightly around you and you take a few moments to steady your heart beats and catch your breaths, coming down from your highs.

His lips brush over your temple when he eventually starts to pull out of you, soothing you with reassuring whispers when you whimper from the sensitivity and emptiness. He moves you both under the still hot stream of water, pulling you into his body and you collapse into his arms as he massages over your back and any inch of your skin that he can reach.

“I wasn’t too rough was I?” He suddenly whispers, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the moment, and when you look up at him his eyes are already locked on yours, cheeks flushed and his brows furrowed, a tell tale sign that he’s concerned about something.

He knows deep down that he has nothing to worry about. You would of stopped him if it was too much and he’s pretty confident in himself that he knows your limits and would never let it get to that point, but he can’t help but want the verbal confirmation from you that he didn’t take it too far. It’s one of the many reasons why you love him. He can be an absolute beast, and you love it when he gets rough with you, but at the end of the day he’s still your Mason. Your soft, loving, wouldn’t hurt a fly Mason who you know is just trying to look out for you.

“Not at all” you reassure him, pushing up on your tiptoes to brush your lips over his and you swear you can see the relief wash over his face, his features relaxing again as he gazes down at you.

You stay in the shower for a little longer, cleaning yourself up and quickly washing your hair - with Mason’s help of course - before climbing out and getting ready for bed.

He helps you slip into one of his t-shirts and a fresh fair of panties, brushing through your hair which you only bother to towel dry before using the loo and climbing into bed. You watch from under the duvet as he pulls on some boxers and grabs your laptop, then slides under the covers next to you. He starts up Netflix, pressing play on a series that you’ve been watching and places the laptop on top of the sheets so that you can both see it before settling down beside you.

You tuck yourself into his side, laying over his half naked body with your head resting against his chest and he wraps his arm around your waist, attempting to pull you even closer to him and you happily melt into his warm embrace.

“Thank you for today” you whisper, tilting your head up to look at him and he meets your gaze with a soft smile.

“Did you like it?” He asks, a slight hint of uncertainty in his voice which you shut down straight away.

“I loved it, it was perfect”

You lean up to press a kiss to his stubbly jaw, but he wants more, his palm framing your cheek and pulling you closer so that he can touch his lips to yours. The kiss is softer than the others that you’ve shared throughout the evening, a lazy brush of his lips against your own that has you sinking into him.

“I love you, so much” you whisper when you eventually pull away, leaving one last kiss to the corner of his mouth before settling down on his chest.

“Love you too, night bubs”

“Night Mase”

His hand slides under the material of the t-shirt you’re wearing, tracing patterns into your soft skin and he feels you grow heavy against him not even two minuets later, falling asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat and he’s not far behind you, drifting off after one final brush of his lips to your forehead.

———————

a/n; I really hope you enjoyed! 💛 feedback is appreciated as always 🫶🏻

[conchiferrous]

they forgot to make the punk hazard body swap stuff about franky Specifically . for me

[ID: Doodle page revolving around Nami being body swapped into Franky's body and Franky being body swapped into Chopper. The main drawing is of Nami in Franky's body, eyes wide and worried, mouth agape and drooling as she timidly raises her hands up in front of her chest. Her knees are bent and are creaking. Multiple instances of "click" are written around her hands as well. A speech bubble containing only Nami's head making the same frightened expression is drawn over her head. A wall of text on the left reads: "-Going through the onslaught of losing more nuanced muscular movements, half of organs being replaced with mechanical parts constantly whirring, using cameras for eyes and the stark change in vision/color quality that comes with that, and a rubbery tongue. All while having to adjust to a body three times her size and constant soreness of the knees and spine having to support all of that. Scared of accidentally shooting bullets and stuff". Right next to her is Franky in Chopper's body, who is sweating profusely and looking down with a frustrated expression as he frantically waves his right arm. His other hoof is covering his left ear. A speech bubble of Franky's head making the same angry expression appears above his head. He is not wearing Chopper's helmet hat nor his shirt, just his backpack and shorts. Text to the right of him reads: "-Everything is too hot, too loud, and too much . smells. -No dexterity/clumsy movements. Going from mostly naked to full fur coat is overwhelming". In the top left hand corner is a small doodle of Chopper in Sanji's body. He's just standing there with one large eye staring off into space with a cat like mouth, frowning slightly. To the right is a doodle of Franky as Chopper walking on all fours in brain point. His eyes are wide and unfocused as he sweats profusely. He's thinking: "gosh i sure hope a hole doesn't open up beneath me and i drop into the ocean that i now cannot swim in. a truly frightening thought." as someone beneath the ground under him starts to saw a circle around where he's standing. There is a secret low opacity clip art of Wade from Garfield behind him. In the top right hand corner is a sketch of Nami as Franky swinging her left arm into the back of Luffy's head on accident while she's talking. She's looking towards the viewer, talking about something, and looks serious. She is oblivious to accidentally hitting Luffy. Luffy's body stays static but his neck is stretching out a bit as his head rubber bands to the side. He's clenching his teeth and one of his eyes has an X in it while the other has a swirl. "Donk" is written right above. This drawing is captioned: "Dangerously clumsy". Underneath is a drawing of Franky as Chopper talking to Nami as Franky. Franky is looking up at Nami and is saying: "Nami i am just letting you know my flashback arrestor is not currently up to code and i haven't replaced it so i recommend you do not use any fire functions or you could blow up which would also blow me up . and i would not care for that". Nami starts sweating and goes wall eyed in panic, mouth agape. And finally in the bottom right hand corner is a doodle of Robin sitting down while Franky in Chopper's body nuzzles up against her right shoulder like a cat would on all fours. He's looking up at her, smiling and wagging his tail, and says: "You can pet me if you'd like". Robin grips him by the abdomen with her right arm while lightly pushing him away with her other arm. She's looking forward and not at him, and looks upset. She responds: "Stop talking." in a red horror type font. None of the drawings are colored in and are drawn over an abstract background comprised mostly of shades of pale yellow and pink. /END ID]

[hroscek]

🛒Dottore shopping headcanons🧾

"Wouldn't it be funny if Dottore went to a grocery store?" - me 2 minutes before I started writing this

Another incredibly silly concept from me, your humble Dottore content deliverer. Not really an AU, but definitely taking massive liberties when it comes to stretching canon. Probably quite ooc as well.

Warnings: mention of death

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Dottore hadn't gone shopping in ages, not since he joined the Fatui. He never liked people and their mundane activities, preferring to stay inside working on his latest project. Groceries and food preparation had been delegated to his staff and the occasional segment as a punishment so he never really saw a need to even think about it.

That changed when he was sent on a covert mission to a wealthy mansion in Fontaine. His job was to infiltrate the household of a prominent scholar who posed a risk of uncovering the operation in Sumeru. The best way to do so was under the guise of being part of the staff. When he was satisfied his appearance was adequately concealed Dottore signed up for the only position that was available in such short notice: the kitchen inventory assistant.

As his new manager explained his job would be to handle the shopping and delivering of ingredients needed by the cooks. In his endless confidence Dottore almost burst out laughing when he heard his duties. "A delivery boy? Me? The 2nd of the eleven Fatui harbingers? This will be too easy" he thought to himself. Oh how wrong he was.

On his first day he set out for the local market with a shopping list in hand, his mind preoccupied with plans of ending his employer. His contemplation was cut short by the sheer loudness of the crowded market. Children wailed for their parents to buy them sweets, merchants bargained over every last coin and groups of people engaged in lively conversation. Any other extrovert person would find the scene quite endearing, a truly fine display of the friendly culture of Fontaine. But this is Dottore we're talking about so his hatred grew every second he was forced to be there.

The first item on his list was fish for the main course of lunch. He gathered whatever patience was left and walked to the first fish stall. Seeing the glossy eyes of the fish in their dozens unnerved him, despite the centuries spent working with cadavers. He was about to point to a fish he deemed adequate when an older lady kindly pointed out it's eyes had gone cloudy (how he managed to find the only week old fish in a city surrounded by water is anyone's guess). He awkwardly thanked her and left in a hurry without buying a fish. He's sure the cooks will figure something out.

Next he headed for the vegetable stand to look for tomatoes. Without bothering to check for quality he started loading the bag as quickly as he could, hoping to get it over with as soon as he could. The seller, clocking the poor guy as a newbie quoted nearly triple the fair price and Dottore paid without questioning or even thinking to haggle (it's a tomato, how much could it cost? 500 mora?)

Almost done with the grocery run (and his patience) Dottore scanned the flower stands looking for Marcottes. He circled the market around 3 times before a amused shopkeep asked what he was looking for. "ᴹᵃʳᶜᵒᵗᵗᵉˢ." he answered, hoping that the earth beneath him sunk and got him out of this hellish situation (awkward social interaction). The seller giggled "Sorry, no one's selling marcottes this week. There's a supply chain issue with the florists on strike, haven't you heard?" Dottore turned and nearly ran in the other direction without a second word, completely forgetting the mint he was also supposed to buy.

Utterly humiliated Dottore decided to ditch any plans of infiltrating quietly and stormed to the manor, killing the scholar and his family. He'll let someone else figure out the coverup. And so he returned to his dim laboratory, vowing never to go shopping again.

Pantalone still makes fun of him for the tomatoes to this day.

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Thanks for reading! Sorry for the lack of posts today, I'm working on a longer fanfiction so I haven't been able to focus on these shorter posts. Will try and finish it within the next day or so, but in the meanwhile enjoy whatever this is. Also you if you figure out what the dish he was shopping for was I'll write whatever topic of headcanon you want, just comment or send a message.

[angelizs]

Hiii I just wanna request something (Srry if ur not taking requests rn) anyways can you do Ruggie,epel,riddle and lilia with a shy s/o who’s love language is physical touch (aka just hugs and cuddles half the time basically)

HII ANON I'm so sorry for taking so long!! I don't even know if you stuck around tho I hope so! and yes, I do take requests but they aren't my priority right now, as I have many other wips I'm working on, so they take forever, as you can see. still, I'm flattered you like my writing so much you'd make me a request! if you're seeing this, I hope you like it <3 

Summary: Riddle, Ruggie, Epel and Lilia with a shy S/O whose love language is physical touch (lots of hugs and cuddles)!

Notes: gn!reader, mostly fluff with some angst sprinkled in (mentions of overblots, nightmares and past traumas, but nothing too serious don't worry!), headcanons + short scenarios since a format wasn't specified, hope you enjoy it anon!

Riddle

Riddle isn't used to receiving affectionate touches, so it takes some time for him to get used to your habits. Not that he's complaining! Just... give him some warning next time, okay?

The first time it happened it went like this: Riddle, being the busy dorm leader he is, had a meeting with his dorm students to attend. He was helping you out with a subject you didn't understand and, as much as he loved to spend some quality time with you, he really had to go. As he got up, you did the same. Since you're shy, you'd usually just wave him goodbye with a cute smile, so this was quite unusual. He wasn't expecting to receive a farewell hug.

Riddle froze, unsure of what to do. His whole face was as red as Heartslabyul's roses and he was stiff, hand hovering at his side. Every place that you were touching felt like it was on fire, it was very strange. Still, it was... nice. It was very nice. The pressure from your body holding his, the pure affection transferred from such an act, the feeling of being cared for. It was nice.

You quickly let go of him, cheeks burning as well, and stuttered some parting words  before scurrying away. He stood there for some minutes, staring at the spot you had long left, face still red and thoughts running wild.

Riddle wasn't used to this at all, but it was nice, and he couldn't help but crave your touch.

(He was a little out of it during the whole meeting, the scene from earlier repeating on his head. Trey got so worried he ended the meeting halfway through.)

The next times you met, be it on a study date (you'd both deny it was a date though) or a casual hangout, Riddle would expect your farewell hugs, even look forward to them. He made sure to reciprocate them, wrapping his arms around you softly and resting his head against your shoulder, closing his eyes and taking a brief moment to just be there with you and feel loved.

Cuddles would take some more time to happen, since just the hugs were already a huge step for both of you. (Not to mention the casual touches you'd give so freely. A hand on his arms or your head resting against his was enough to make his face burst to flames and his mind be consumed by that single moment). 

It was on one of your late night studies session, you were both at Ramshackle's lounge, cups of tea gone cold on your table and books pilling up on each other. The couch was calling for you and your exhaustion from a long day of classes crashed onto you as you listened to Riddle's calm voice explain some potion's formula. Truly, you wanted to hear what he had to say, but you couldn't help but relax near him.

The weight of your head hitting his shoulder made him stop in his tracks and just stay still as he processed the situation. He normally would feel a tinge of irritation from his lecture being cut short, but he couldn't stay mad at you, specially when he saw how tired you were but insisted on keep trying to get the formula right. 

Riddle could try to clean up your table, but that would make him move too much and disturb your sleep. When he saw how peaceful you looked, completely safe by his side, he couldn't bring himself to wake you up. Thus he adjusted your positions on the couch, making you both lean down to not put a strain on your neck, and wrapped his arms around your torso to make sure you wouldn't fall in the middle of the night. Just a quick nap and he would be back at his dorm.

You both wake up cuddling the next morning. Both your faces burn in embarrassment and you're quick to get up and apologize, offering to make breakfest for him. He accepts the offer, but as you're having tea together, your hair tousled and your eyes drowsy, he thinks on how it was the best sleep he's had in a while.

From then on, you get a bit more bold in your physical touches, the shyness ebbing away bit by bit when you're near him. He still gets caught off guard at times, but he loves it. From someone who never got such things growing up, it means the world to him how you're willing to show your affection in such a way.

He'll always blush, no matter how much time passes. You find it extremely endearing. Throw in a compliment in the mix and you've got the ultimate combo to fluster and please him at the same time.

Ruggie

Ruggie found it adorable how your shyness contrasted his shamelessness. He thought you two made for quite the pair. 

He's used to physical touch, being in Savanaclaw where play fights and roughhousing is pretty common between students, so your occasional touches weren't anything new, though they were gentler than what he was used to, and he didn't give much thought to it.

That changed after Leona's overblot. When the fight was over, the feelings of helplessness came crashing down on him, the fact they'd surely lose the tournament even after all their efforts and that his closest friend (were they even friends? The doubt crept up to him) had betrayed him, uttered the words he hated to hear. The exhaustion and the fact he almost died- his friend- his dorm leader- Leona almost-

Before he could spiral any longer, you came crashing onto him, figure shaking as your arms held him close, tightly as if trying to get your bodies as close together as possible, to feel that he was there and real and alive. He could feel your heart beating like crazy against your chest, mirroring his own. His shoulder, where you were leaning your face on, felt wet. Your hands gripped onto his shirt like a lifeline. You were muttering something, voice breaking, as if saying "we're okay" over and over. 

Ruggie embraced you back, holding on just as tightly, burrying his face on your hair. He never was held like this, like he was something precious, like he truly had worth. In that moment, in your arms, he felt loved.

Ruggie's hunger isn't limited to food. In fact, you'd come to notice that he seems to be hungry to be loved too. Ever since the incident, Ruggie seemed more eager to share little touches with you, letting them linger longer, doing things out of his way to have an excuse for you to touch him, like doing little favours in exchange for a hug and, if you were feeling bold enough, a head rub. 

For him to take time out of his busy schedule to spend it with you in hopes that he'd get your affection back meant a lot to you, so you tried to overcome some of your shyness to be able to show him just how much you appreciated it and all the little things he did, even doing some acts of service on occasion for him as well.

The cuddles came some time later. You knew Ruggie had nightmares at times, some regarding his life before he came to NRC and some about Leona's overblot. He didn't want you to worry about it and waved it off, but you could see when they had an impact on him, his darker eyebags and exhaustion making it clear to you. You'd give him back rubs as he rested his head against yours, letting him decide if he'd like to talk about them or just spend some time in silence when that happened. 

One night, you were woken up by your phone ringing. You answered, still half asleep, and were surprised to hear Ruggie's shaking voice coming from the other side, breath ragged as he murmured something about being at your door. Without missing a beat, you ran down the stairs, not caring about the creaks of the floor or the coldness of it against your bare feet. You opened the door before he could even end the call, hurrying him in to get out of the chilly night air.

He looked like a mess, hands shaking and eyes dropping, chest heaving up and down. As soon as you closed the door, you embraced him, one hand rubbing up and down his back while the other patted his hair, trying to calm him down. The grip he had on you was so tight it could bruise, his voice came out rushed as he explained his nightmare. You decided there was no way you'd leave him alone that night, not when he sounded like that.

You took him to your bedroom, noticing Grim was still sleeping on his side of the room, and proposed to share the bed. You were a bit awkward as you got in a comfortable position, but seeing him in that state made you put the shyness away for a moment, focusing on making sure he was okay. You let him bury his head on your shoulder, arms wrapping around his back and hands playing with his hair until he fell asleep, waiting for his breath to soften. 

Both ended up sleeping in for the next day, but you couldn't bring yourself to feel bad about skipping class when you saw how refreshed he looked in the morning, his usual playful demeanor coming back as he joked with you while he cooked breakfeast. 

You've been showing him more physical affection since then, hugs and cheek kisses getting more common on the times you met with each other in the middle of your busy days. His ears perk up and his tail starts wagging as he offers you a cheeky grin.

As used to it as he is, there's a spot behind his ears that if you rub juuuust right will always fluster him and make him let out little giggles. If you rub it after a long day he'll melt in your arms. You got yourself a happy hyena! 

Epel

Epel is used to touch, living with a big family who'd always show affection with hugs and headpats. Therefore, when you started to show it to him the same way, he reciprocated instantly, going as far to initiate it himself, oftentimes through handshakes, pats on the back and side hugs.

If your shyness stops you from reaching out he'd notice and do it himself, helping you to come out of your shell bit by bit, not making a big deal out of it and letting these interactions be casual. He'd be happy to help someone he cares about! 

The first time you initiated a hug was very special to him. It was after he had another spat with Vil about his behaviour. As much as he pretended these didn't affect him at all, deep down he'd get hurt by the harsh words his dorm leader could direct at him. He knew Vil wanted only his best, but his methods weren't the most effective on someone as headstrong as Epel. 

He was hiding in a corner of the hallways, a secret spot he hoped not even Rook could find him in (if such a thing was even possible), head resting against his knees. His thoughts kept going back to the lecture Vil gave him this time, eyes watering against his will and making him furiously rub his face to get rid of them.

That's when a familiar soft voice was heard, making him look up at you. You had a worried expression as you kneeled over to meet him eye to eye, hand hesitating for a second before you rested it on his shoulder and asked what was wrong. He muttered that you didn't need to worry, it was just the usual routine that came with being part of Pomefiore, refusing to meet your eyes, ashamed you've seen him in such a pathetic state. 

You called his name and he turned around. He couldn't ignore it when you said it like that, with so much care, each letter dripping from your lips like honey. The hand on his shoulder pulled him forward until he met your chest, your other arm coming from behind to support his back. You told him it was okay to feel upset about what happened, that he could come to talk with you whenever he wanted to, that you'd listen to him.

He felt a rush of affection run through him as he noticed how firm your tone was, so certain. You were defending him, taking his side, and that meant a lot to him. It didn't feel patronizing, as it would sometimes happen with other people who felt he needed protection since he was so "small and cute". No, with you, it felt like he wasn't alone, like he had someone to count on to have his back, someone that trusted him and wanted him to trust them back. And of course he did, so he let himself lean into your touch fully, a nonverbal "thank you" both understood.

After that, he started to notice you liked to hug a lot. His side hugs became full ones and his heart oftentimes skipped a beat when he saw your pleased face. It felt good to see how happy he made someone he cared so much about.

The cuddles came in naturally, so much so neither of you noticed it until afterwards. You've gotten so used to each other's touch it wasn't anything novel when, a certain day, Epel rested his head on your lap as you were studying in the courtyard and started to talk about his day, complaining about the extra homework Crewel had given his class and gushing over the next spelldrive club meeting he'd have. You listened on, adding in your own two cents and laughing along, your hand playing with his hair. 

Only at night, once you're about to go to sleep do you think about that moment and notice how you two started cuddling like it was something you've always done. Your face heated up at that and you couldn't catch any sleep, thinking over and over about that. Epel was in a similar position, butterflies in his stomach as he thought about how soft your lap felt or how gentle your fingers were as they treaded through his hair. 

Even if there was a bit of awkwardness the next time you met, you quickly overcame it as you noticed how you were both in the same situation. The cuddling continued to happen more frequently, to the point none of your other first year friends even batted an eye at it. 

He likes it the most when he takes you to a ride on his blastycle and you hug tight onto him, head resting against his back, trusting him to keep you safe, it makes him feel dependable and adrenalin rushes two times more than when he rides alone. If you let him try to carry you he'd also be delighted, wanting to prove that he can (even if you two topple over after taking two steps, at least you're having fun).

Lilia

Lilia has lived for so long, touch isn't anything new to him. He'd seen the bad side of it, the hands that hurt and kill, and the good side, the hands that soothe and protect. He's done both, with his own hands. 

Raising Silver, he came to learn the importance of physical touch as an act of affection. For someone used to the violence of the battlefield, being able to experience touch as a soft thing, as a show of love, had been quite the change. He learnt to love the way fingers can run through another person's hair, the way lips can brush a forehead, the way hands can fit together, the way love can shine through little daily actions, every touch becoming a whisper of "I'm here, I care about you, I love you."

Being quite the extrovert, Lilia has no shame in showing affection for others in a physical way. A pat on their head, a hand on their back, chin resting on their shoulder, it all comes easily to him, and he's delighted when you start doing such gestures with him too! Considering your shy nature, he's happy you felt comfortable enough with him to reciprocate his antics.

Hugs aren't something he usually does, as he prefers more casual types of touches, but he likes it when you start hugging him more often! It's a good change of pace to keep things lively!

It starts small, little hugs as greetings or farewells, and then as thank you's and you're welcome's. It's like a whole language you two share, no words needed when your actions speak louder. 

It's on Halloween that it really hits him just how much these moments mean to you. The two of you decided to go check the other dorms' decorations when he was on break, arms interlocked as you walked around campus and commented on the details and costumes. Whenever a student would appear to jumpscare you, you turned to him in a hug, burrying you head on his neck, trusting him to protect you from anything that might come your way. It was the trust, the comfort, the smile you gave him everytime afterwards that made him realize that that's your way of saying "I love you" without words.

He starts to appreciate these touches even more, giving you hugs more frequently, be it to celebrate a victory or to console your sadness.

These hugs envolve to cuddling, as in one moment you'd find yourself sitting side by side, legs touching, and in the other you'd have your back against his chest as he propped his chin on your shoulder. It usually flustered you, but you've grown used to it enough to be able to relax into it.

One time, a history study session turned into him telling you stories from his past, tales of people long gone that managed to capture your interest, be it because of the enthusiastic way he spoke about them or because it was all new to you, someone who wasn't from this world before. The way your attention was solely on him, eagerly hanging onto every word and even making questions or little sounds of surprise, made him feel elated that his old stories could still entertain. 

When he started to talk about his travels, your eyes shone with excitement, the desire to discover a new world and the possibilities this chance presented. You asked him if he could show you it all someday, from the dunes of the Scalding Sands to the waves of the Coral Sea. This proposal of sharing important moments of your life with him made warmth spread through his body, fondness coloring his voice as he softly agreed.

It's not strange to find the two of you cuddling or stading closely to each other, touching in some way, be it by interwining your hands or leaning on each other. The Diasomnia dorm grew used to the sight of you huddled together on the lounge's couch, even Silver seemed happy that his father had found someone that made him feel loved.

Lilia specially likes when it's just the two of you, cuddling on his bed, and you take his face into your hands, fingers softly rubbing his skin, heavy lidded eyes taking in every detail and reaction. Such an innocent gesture, warm hands holding onto him so gently, makes him feel cared for more than grand declarations ever could. Give him a little kiss on the nose or the forehead and his chest will burst with affection, making him give you little kisses all over your face, your giggles sounding heavenly to him. 

Masterlist

[fumifooms]

Heyoooo. I wanted to say, I'm sorry about that mean-ass, insulting anon you got a while back. That ask ended up pissing me off so bad I ended up actually reading your Marchil analysis posts. Originally, I was meh and kinda confused when the ship showed up in Ao3 because I didn't see what people liked about it. Reading your posts about how they were narrative foils opened my mind more, and I realized, Oh shit yeah there's a lot of potential in this ship for how these two can develop each other.

Part 2: Marcille and Chilchuck may not have scenes like the infamous bath scene with Farlin, but the concept of someone who's terrified of being alone, the reality of her friends' mortality, a hopeless romantic catching feelings for a repressed, divorced man whose wife left him--okay yeah, I absolutely understand the appeal of this ship. Marcille would be like, Why the fuck is my heart thrumming for this sharp-tongued bitch, and also the terror from falling in love with someone so short-lived Part 3: Either way, love your analysis posts. I am going to be contemplating the potential of Marcille and Chilchuck for a long while. There is something so tragically sweet about it

You get it, you really do… I could list off everything I love about them but I’d be here forever because it’s literally everything and there are so many fun ways to spin it… You’re very right about them being tragically sweet, overall where their arcs meet the most is "Loving is something worth doing even with the risk of loss", and I say risk but really it’s more the inevitable eventuality of it as canon does love to point out. If you want the reward of being loved you must go through the mortifying ordeal of being known. No love however brief is wasted. Let me see you and stay. It’s very much sort of the final boss to their arcs for them to get invested in each other in such a way, to get involved romantically— emotionally with someone knowing what’s coming and that she barely has two decades left with him (who mistreats his health so much he very well could die early), and to shoot your shot for something new with hope in your heart and enough confidence that you’re worth loving. He’s not a prince charming but to her he sort of is, all virtuous husband this reliable dependable Chilchuck that, all "you may be flawed but I’ll still romanticize your qualities and convince you that you and your love for your beloved are something worth fighting for".

What if I was old bread that solidified to be hard as rock and you were like warm soup and by soaking in your presence I softened……… What if you stubbornly grew on me like yeast and it brought out my flavor like beer as I opened up and allowed you in………. What if your hair was golden, the epitome of beauty to me, and my hair turned silver, your worst nightmare……. I think about them a normal amount

[rxdianced]

A letter for Alson Snow @trcshcans, sticking out just a bit from the pages of the white book in their chambers:

______________________________________________________________

My Dearest Alson,

As I sit to write this letter, my heart swells with pride and affection for you. Though the Seven Kingdoms seem to teeter on the brink of chaos, I find a sense of peace in reflecting on the honor you have brought not only to the Starks, but to me as your sister. You have achieved so much, and I hope you know how deeply I admire the strength and grace with which you carry yourself.

From the moment you were recognized as Father’s child, I have watched you navigate a world that can be unkind to those it deems outsiders. Our bond grew stronger when you left for training and I for Storm’s End upon my marriage to Tobas. In those years, our letters became a lifeline, carrying words of encouragement, care, and affection that bridged the miles between us. I know how hard it must have been, growing up with the name Snow and bearing the weight of others’ prejudices. Yet you never let their whispers define you. Instead, you forged your own path, earning respect and proving to all that your worth lies far beyond any title. That determination is a testament to your spirit, and it is something I have always cherished about you.

Now, as the Lord Commander of the Queensguard, you stand as a symbol of loyalty and strength. You have proven that no matter your beginnings, you are as noble and steadfast as any Stark born to Winterfell’s halls. The honor you bring to our name is immeasurable, but what moves me most is the pride you bring to me personally. To see you rise above every challenge and embody the values we hold dear is nothing short of inspiring.

I know that your journey has not been without hardship, and I wish I could have shielded you more from the pain of feeling like an outsider. But Alson, let me tell you this: you have never been an outsider to me. From the moment I first held your hand and called you sister, you have been a part of my heart, and no one could take that away. You are as much a Stark as any of us, and more than that, you are a light in my life.

I think often of your strength, your courage, and your unwavering sense of duty. These qualities are the mark of a true knight and a true Stark. Never let anyone make you doubt your place in this family or the legacy you are building. I see you, not just for the honor you bring to the family, but for the person you are: honest, brave, kind, and determined.

Though we stand on uncertain ground and the path ahead may be fraught with peril, I cannot help but feel an ache of fear at what this war may bring. The thought of my siblings meeting on the battlefield chills me to my core. I dread the day when loyalties might pit us against one another, and it is my deepest hope that such a day never comes. Know that you will always have my love and support, even amidst the storm. I believe in you, Alson, and I am endlessly proud of the person you have become. The world may see you as a Queensguard, a Snow, or a warrior, but to me, you will always be my cherished sister.

May your shield stay strong, and may your heart never waver. Please write to me when we're apart and speak to me without hesitation when we are together; I long to hear your thoughts and your heart amidst these troubled times.

Forever proud of you, Eira

[yourbravestpigeon]

“Star Trek is a whole Franchise nowadays”, Alberich explained to Catherine, sorting through the stack of DVDs in his lap. “There’re better things in the genre, but it’s a cult classic. We’ll start with the bad parts so you’ll see the high quality stuff when your prefrontal cortex is developed enough to appreciate it. What you need to know is-…”

The doorbell rang, twice in quick succession.

“Never mind”, he said, “There’s your mother. We’ll watch it next time.”

He got up, downed his glass because he didn’t trust Catherine around it, then walked to the front door. Irene was a little early, actually –  it was a quarter to seven, but Alberich wasn’t complaining. This way he could still watch the show, just without someone crapping their pants on the stroke of every hour sitting next to him.

He opened the door and there was fucking Kai instead of Irene, purposefully glowering at him in a well-fitting suit.

“I’m here to pick up my daughter”, he announced, glancing over Alberich’s shoulder as if he expected the house to be secretly on fire.

“She’s still alive”, Alberich informed him and let Kai in. “We’ve done alright for ourselves.”

They entered the living room where Catherine thankfully hadn’t dived off the couch but was sitting peacefully, sucking on the corner of a DVD case. The sight of the little girl changed Kai’s icy features to immediate spring. 

“There’s my princess”, he cooed, lifting her like a holy grail and peppering her belly with kisses. Catherine started giggling frantically at this, and Alberich had to admit she was fairly sweet with her baby tooth smile.

“Your princess shat her diaper quite a lot for a two hour stay”, he let Kai know. “Not sure if that’s normal or cause to see a doctor.”

“We know perfectly well when our daughter needs a doctor, thank you.”

“Righty roo”, he replied and hoped Catherine wouldn’t turn out as much of a bitch as her father. One look at the guy with his arrogant posture and arrogant face and arrogant clothing and nothing in his brain to warrant such hubris put Alberich at a constant loss how Irene, with her perfectly reasonable brain, had settled on this hack of a guy. Alberich had never met any of Irene’s exes, but he couldn’t believe Kai was the jackpot on the male market. That was, male and female market. No really, out of most people in the world Irene had settled for this-…

“We’ll be on our way”, Kai interrupted his mental voodoo-dolling. “Irene sends her regards.”

“Don’t forget the deer.” Alberich indicated the plushie Catherine had thrown across the room, and as Kai bent to pick it up his eyes fell on the paused image on the TV. He froze.

“Is that Pulp Fiction?”

“Don’t worry, we skipped the sex dungeon scene.”

“You watched Pulp Fiction with my daughter?!”

There was carefully controlled fury to the arrogant posture now, and the worshipping smile reserved for Catherine had been replaced by an approaching thunderstorm. Maybe that was what Irene liked about him; he was, in a way, fun to mess with.

“Kidding.” Alberich put on a reassuring smile. “It was still on from before she got here.”

Kai glared at him, though some of the murder left his eyes. “That’s not funny.”

“Not at all, no.”

Snatching his daughter’s backpack out of its corner Kai stalked towards the front door, holding a babbling Catherine close to his chest.

“Just one last question”, Alberich called after him.

“Yes?”

“What’s the deer’s name?”

Kai faced him as dignified as possible while holding a stuffed animal and a drooling toddler.

“It’s Lulu”, he said and shut the door with a bang.

-

“Dick”, Alberich mumbled. On the other side of the door Kai was having similar thoughts, only he didn’t voice them – he had a duty as a parent, after all. Still tense from the unpleasant exchange he slid his phone out and pressed the speed dial to Irene’s work phone. She’d had to hurry to the bookstore to sort out a butchered delivery, cutting their drinks after dinner short. It had still been a magical evening – every night with Irene was, and the thought of going back to their shared apartment filled him with the warmest kind of pride.

But first he checked Catherine for any kind of damage. He trusted Irene’s judgement on Alberich, he really did. But every minute he spent with her obnoxious biological father made him think how little the man deserved to be with their precious baby. He hoped Alberich got the dumb Russian research grant he’d mentioned at their last dinner, that way they’d be rid of him for at least a couple months. Sure, they’d have to find another babysitter– most of their friends were either very far away or very busy – but he’d rather leave Catherine with a stranger than her rude and uncultured pseudo grandpa. Or well, maybe not with a stranger, but with a… The more he thought about it the more he realized he didn’t want to leave Catherine alone at all. If it were feasible, he’d carry her in his arms all day long, hiding her bright eyes from the evils of the world. But alas, he was forced to let her go and trust, trust in life and in other people.

Apart from Irene, trusting was not his strong suit.

The call went to voicemail, so she was probably still knee-deep sorting out the mess. Charming visions filled Kai’s mind: him cooking a comforting dinner, him massaging Irene’s shoulders as she ranted about her night, her singing Catherine to sleep as he listened from the living room. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve this beautiful life.

After he’d verified that there were no cuts or bumps on Catherine’s body (Alberich’s apartment hadn’t been babyproofed at all) they set off, a cab carrying them through the night towards home.

[marydublinauthor]

Random gt drabbles: Tackle

Short #1 Request from my SITD prompt!

Requested by: @kendsleyauthor

Request: Cliff and Oliver, dark future AU, fluffy + steamy, lush forest

A/N: the amount of Cliff and Oliver that was requested omg THANK you 🥹 they are the moment rn

——————-

As the sun set behind the distant mountains, the forest became drenched in amber hues. Cliff had ventured out to forage with six of the safehouse fairies, hoping to maximize a harvest of wild parsnips that grew nearby. The rest of the crew had flown inside ahead, but Cliff was taking his time on the rugged terrain, still nursing an ugly bruise on his left leg from a recent mission. Zia had healed the worst of it, but bruises were particularly tricky to resolve, even for advanced healers.

One fairy remained, keeping pace in flight beside him.

In a month’s time, Oliver had already adjusted well to life with the Safehouse community. Still, Cliff couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to stay bonded to him after their trial in the wilderness. Generally speaking, Oliver’s discretion wasn’t exactly his strongest quality. Cliff had caught him staring at him a number of times over the past weeks, always averting his gaze like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I’ve literally never heard anyone who hates parsnips,” Oliver was berating.

“I think it’s because everyone you know grew up eating moss, and it shows,” Cliff said, smirking at his own joke.

A small, playful jolt of electricity zinged through his leather jacket.

“We did not have moss in my home village,” Oliver grumbled. “For your information, it was a dried algae, and it was delicious.”

“Serve that with some fries, and I’m set.”

“Listen,” Oliver said. “I know you’re joking, but that would actually taste really…”

He sucked in a sharp breath as a shadow crossed over their path. They paused to observe a hawk gliding through the trees overhead, on the hunt as dusk strengthened.

Oliver cursed, blood draining from his face.

“Come on, we should get a move on,” he said, flying faster. His flight pattern became erratic — obviously spooked.

Cliff quickened his pace to match. “You want a pocket?”

“It’s fine. Let’s just hurry.”

But as he spoke, the adorable dumbass flew straight through a spiderweb strung in a bush, tangling his wings in the thick, dew-covered threads. His flight immediately began to falter, dropping him closer to the ground with every dialed wing beat.

“Should’ve taken me up on the pocket,” Cliff called.

He was still catching up when a shrill scream came from above. For a moment, it felt like time slowed down, and horror gripped Cliff’s insides. Oliver’s frantic flapping had caught the hawk’s eye.

It dove down.

Cliff sprinted, closing the distance and putting his body between the bird and Oliver. Momentum barreled him forward. Instinct took over. He clapped his hands around Oliver’s fragile body and crushed him to his chest, rolling to land hard on his side.

Panting, Cliff watched the hawk veer off to another part of the forest in search of an easier meal. He released Oliver onto the forest floor and rolled over top of him.

“You okay?” Cliff demanded.

Oliver’s small body shuffled against the fallen leaves as he gasped for air, making sense of his surroundings. His blue eyes widened when he looked up at the new source of the shadow over him.

“Y-yeah.”

“Damn birds. Never realized what a menace they were until I started rooming with fairies.” Cliff brushed out some of the spiderweb out of Oliver’s hair with his thumb. Little broken pieces of leaves and dirt were scattered across his clothes.

The way Oliver’s little head whipped around to follow the path of Cliff’s hand, up to his wide shoulders and chest and the rest of him walling him in… Cliff clenched his jaw. He felt the familiar urge to apologize for being so impsosing and too big for their world.

But the way Oliver’s chest was heaving wasn’t from fear. His expression was so precious, and he was safe, and there was something magnetic in the air now.

He didn’t know why— why here? why now?—but it was as tangible as the forest around them. Like a gentle, guiding hand, it pulled Cliff down slowly until he shut his eyes and Oliver’s stunned expression vanished.

He let his lips fall against Oliver’s face with the gentlest pressure he could manage. Cliff lingered there for a moment, enthralled with the sensation of those delicate features against his skin.

He pulled back, scrutinizing any emotion in those tiny blue eyes carefully.

“Thank you,” Oliver finally said, flushed like a spring tomato. They gaped at each other for a while longer before he added, “You could do that again, if you wanted.”

Cliff shifted on his knees, his shadow dancing over Oliver’s prone body. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes. Please.”

Cliff arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You look like you’ve barely caught your breath.”

“Breathing is overrated,” Oliver said with a flippant gesture.

Cliff grinned and dove down.

[heykoonsy]

Word Count: 2.3k+

Pairing: OC x Jake, OC x Danny

Summary: Charlotte’s stay at the Somerset Sapiens Farm was short-lived, her intelligence quickly astounding the owner; Henry Somerset himself. Hoping to become a client, Charlotte is gifted to an eccentric vampire known for supplying the wealthy elite with high quality humans for their gatherings. Charlotte, however, intends to use this vampire’s power and connections another way.

Content Warnings: 18+ for mature themes

Chapter 3: Cruelty

Charlotte felt a heaviness in her chest from the moment she got up this afternoon. It was a troublesome thing to carry around, weighing on her mind as she ate, showered and cleaned the apartment. She knew that it was here to stay when even exercise at the in-house gym didn’t persuade it to move on. It only seemed to get worse the more time went on–and there was only one explanation for that: today she was meeting with Danny. Today was the day she would be ending things once and for all. 

Charlotte was now in Julio’s vehicle, the one he drove around in while playing the part of the lackey. She looked out the window, where the street lights were bathing the sidewalk in a yellow glow. That heaviness, which had rooted itself so deep in her chest earlier, was somehow digging deeper and the feeling was all-consuming. 

She was vaguely aware that this anxiety that plagued her was her conscience telling her not to run away again. It was screaming at her to face her fears head-on. But Charlotte knew better than to trust that shrill voice, the one that told her that things would not be so bad. She knew better.

“We’re almost there,” Julio said, keeping his eyes forward on the road ahead of them. 

Charlotte nodded, taking note as the wipers swept across the windshield to remove some rain droplets that had collected there. It was a dreary night, the wind picking up and sending a small bit of precipitation down to Earth to greet Charlotte on a terrible day. Just like the weather, she too felt like crying. And, like the weather, she couldn’t change that fact. 

Julio pulled up to a curb beneath a street light and put the vehicle in park. 

“We’re here already?” Charlotte asked, more to herself than to Julio. 

Julio nodded just the same. 

Charlotte took a minute to take in their meeting place. It was a well known office building that Julio’s real estate partners worked at. None of his employees were in the office today, Julio mentioned earlier, so they could take as much time as they needed. Charlotte watched as the lights of an office on the third floor turned on. 

“Looks like he came,” Julio said. 

“Of course he did,” Charlotte said breathlessly. Danny wouldn’t give up an opportunity like this in a million years. Her heart ached again. 

“Tell me when you’re ready,” Julio said, noticing how despondent Charlotte had become. 

Charlotte nodded, then after a deep breath she opened up her door. “Let’s go.”

Charlotte waited for Julio to join her on the sidewalk before they made their way inside the lobby of the building. Charlotte let Julio be her guide as they took the elevator up to the third floor. She counted her steps as they made their way down the hallway. Julio stopped in front of the door of the office that Danny was on the other side of. There was no doubt in her mind that he was eagerly awaiting her entry. 

“Do you want me in there with you?” He whispered. 

Charlotte shook her head. Then, with a small glance upwards at him, she left Julio in the hallway. 

Danny stood on the opposite side of the room, clearly too antsy to sit on any of the comfortable chairs in the office. Danny whipped his head around–although Charlotte was unsure if the click of the door alerted him, or her familiar scent.

“Charlotte,” he breathed. 

“Hey Danny,” she said, locking eyes with him. 

She got a decent look at him as he tripped over himself to get over to her. His hair was a frazzled mess–most likely because of the weather. His eyes were sunken in and bloodshot, almost like he hadn’t been sleeping these last few days. Before she could say anything else, Danny swept her into another strong, warm hug–one that she’d been missing for so many years now. Just like before, her eyes started to fill with tears. 

“I’m sorry about last time,” Charlotte said quietly over the lump in her throat. 

He shushed her lightly, in that sweet, soft voice he used back then. “It’s okay,” he kept saying as he comforted her.

After a few minutes, Charlotte pulled away from him. “I need to tell you something.”

Danny pulled her along to a small loveseat in the center of the room. “What is it?”

“I wasn’t at the farm for very long,” she began, searching Danny’s eyes. 

What she found was an immediate relief. He sighed. “How did you find Velasquez?”

“I was gifted to him by the owner of Somerset,” she said. “I’ve been working for him for a while now.”

Danny grabbed her hand. “That big guy, from before, is he here? He hasn’t hurt you?”

“Julio? No,” Charlotte shook her head. “He was just worried about me.”

Danny nodded. “I know the feeling,” Danny said, shifting his gaze to the floor. “Seriously, what kept you from finding us?”

Charlotte wiped at the tears welling in her eyes with her free hand. What was the best way to answer his question? I didn’t want to find you. No, too direct–she was trying to lie. I was too busy. Too large of a lie–she’d thought about them nearly every day. “Velasquez hired someone to help me find you,” she said. “But running into you at that party was pure happenstance.”

“Fate,” Danny said underneath his breath. 

“I wanted to make sure all of you were okay,” Charlotte said, the lump in her throat making her voice crack. “Are you? Okay?”

Danny looked at her for a moment. “Yeah,” he said, looking away. “We’re uh…fine.”

Charlotte sniffed, and rose from her seat. “Our investigator could only track down Josh. He’s been doing some protesting I hear. And from what I know, Sam hasn’t been home.” 

Danny nodded, “They’ve been keeping themselves busy.”

“He couldn’t find you,” Charlotte looked back at him with a tired smile. “We were hoping Josh would visit, or Sam would send out a letter to you from his apartment. But they never did.”

“And Jake?”

Charlotte froze. She shook her head.

For a moment, the two of them just sat there, taking in the moment. Charlotte could tell that this meeting was as difficult for him as it was for her. 

“I was shocked,” Danny said quietly, “after seeing you. I didn’t know what to do.” 

Charlotte looked over at him but stayed quiet. 

“The first thing I did was pull out my phone–to call Sam–to call everybody,” Danny hesitated. “But I couldn’t.”

Charlotte tried to hide her anxiety. “What stopped you?”

Danny looked at her, deep into her eyes. “It wasn’t what you wanted.”

Charlotte looked away from him–hiding her expression–like just the look on her face would have given her away. 

“You didn’t want to see us again,” Danny shook his head, lowering his eyes to the floor. 

Charlotte felt the tears spill from her eyes. “I…I just…” Charlotte could barely muster a coherent sentence past the lump in her throat. 

Danny rested a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “I couldn’t tell them, not when I knew that I’d be getting their hopes up for nothing.”

Charlotte let a choked sob come out, realizing that there was no longer any reason to fight it. Everything she wanted to say was already said. Danny had taken the words right out of her mouth. “I’m…I’m so sorry Danny,” she whimpered.

Danny waited a few minutes for Charlotte to collect herself. After wiping her tears, she turned back to him, sniffling.

“Charlotte,” he started grimly.

She cut him off and looked over at him, knowing exactly what he was going to say. “You said you were all fine.”

“How could we be fine?” Danny asked, voice trembling. Charlotte was not aware how hard he was trying to stay composed. Danny raised himself from the couch and walked over to the windows. “All we could do was watch.”

Charlotte followed Danny with her eyes.

“When we got back, none of us knew what to do. It was like we never even met you.”

Charlotte stood from the couch, she watched Danny’s back as she spoke. “I can’t see them, Danny.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes welling with tears. 

Danny said nothing, but Charlotte knew exactly what he wanted to say. We missed you. You don’t know what it was like. We watched you die. How could you do this? Tell me why you can’t see them. All of these pieces of dialogue were lost in the space between them. Charlotte knew he was choking on every sentence–which is why he wasn’t saying anything. He was considering her feelings even now.

She was asking him to keep such a big secret–and he was willing to–but she could tell that it was eating him alive to do this to Sam. To Josh. To Jake.

Without thinking, Charlotte closed the gap between them and pulled Danny into a hug. “You’re right, I’m being cruel.”

Charlotte stayed still as Danny drank her in again, pressing his nose into her hair and taking her scent deeply into his lungs. His shoulders were shaking as he cried, and his tears splashed onto Charlotte’s hair. 

“I’ll see them,” Charlotte said. “I have to.”

Charlotte flopped down onto her bed, the air getting pushed from her lungs as she hit the mattress. After the night she’d had, there was nothing she wanted more than to sleep. And yet…all she could think about was the night’s events. Charlotte turned Danny’s replies over and over again in her mind, wondering just how much he was keeping from her. He’d been secretive with what he shared, and Charlotte could tell in the way his eyes shifted from hers as they said goodbye to one another. 

Charlotte hugged Danny tightly as they said their farewells.  They decided that it was best that he leave first as they both wiped their teary eyes. 

“I’ll let them know,” Danny said.

The gravity of those words didn’t hit her in that moment, and Charlotte assumed it was just her being overwhelmed. Emotions were running high for several other reasons, she could forgive herself for not being completely with it just this once. 

“I’ll be in touch, okay?” Danny asked, and Charlotte realized that she hadn’t said anything in response.

Charlotte remembered nodding, because her voice was still hoarse from all of the crying she’d done for the last hour and a half. Charlotte then watched as he turned the knob of the office door and left. She stood in the office for a little longer, waiting for Julio to come out from wherever he was hiding. In a few moments, he came through the door, just like she knew he would. 

“I saw him leave, How did it go?” He said in that same no-bullshit tone. 

Charlotte shook her head. “As good as I thought it would.”

Julio stepped in front of her, a grim look already on his face. “That bad?”

Charlotte didn’t look at him, instead, she turned towards the door. “I agreed to meet with them, all of them.”

Julio said nothing, but Charlotte could tell that his lack of conversation was not due to lack of opinion. Perhaps he thought it best to keep his thoughts to himself? If that were the case, she wanted to smother him in gratitude.

“Let’s go home,” he said finally. 

The rest of the drive home came quickly, and now Charlotte spent the last few hours of the night wondering just what she had gotten herself into. 

Charlotte felt a pressure in her chest, a longing. She wanted to see Sam’s smile again, be wrapped in Josh’s arms. She wanted to sit with Danny and swap stories about nothing in particular. She wanted…

She wanted Jake. 

Charlotte felt the tears spilling out of her eyes as five years of sorrow finally broke through the wall she’d built up around it. That part of her life that she only ever revisited in her sleep came rushing forward and drowned her in the feelings she’d been pushing down and away. There was fear, the fear that what he’d felt all those years ago was gone. Perhaps she really was just the girl in the woods to him. There would be tangible evidence that Jake had grown apart from her emotionally too as the distance between them grew.

But there was also joy. Everything good that could happen raced in her mind next. He would catch sight of her first, and his eyes would sparkle with recognition. He’d recognize her immediately, and he wouldn’t hesitate pulling her closer. Her eyes would fall onto his smile–his lips–as they parted to convey just how exhilarated he was to see her again.

Charlotte took a deep breath. She needed to calm down–until Danny reached out to the others, she had to focus on her life. She had a job–she had friends–she had mind-occupying things at her disposal.

Reaching over to her nightstand, Charlotte turned on the television on the far side of her bedroom. She got up from her bed and went over to the chaise in front of the screen. She perused the channels until she settled on the news. She watched graphics of a wildfire overtaking a dark forest, illuminating the rest of the surrounding area with a warm glow. 

Charlotte listened as the reporter went on about it for a moment, but something caught her attention at the bottom of the screen–where text was scrolling fast. 

GOVERNMENT LEADERS NEGOTIATE CONTROVERSIAL TREATY AGREEMENT WITH—

Charlotte heard a knock at her bedroom door and looked over.

“Come in,” she said loudly over the TV. 

Julio opened the door but didn’t crest the threshold. “I just got word from my contact. He’s picked a time.”

For a moment, Charlotte just looked at Julio–pure shock registered on her face. Danny had already reached out to them?

“They requested we meet them here in the city one day from now,” Julio said. “And it might be a short visit–they’ve requested a meeting before daybreak.”

Charlotte nodded, taking in the news. 

In twenty-four hours, she would be seeing them again.

[galaxythixf]

things your muse will notice about mine. ( repost, don't reblog. )

Neon (Tala)

what they look like : Neon is shorter than most, standing at around 5'0". Usually not in any makeup or something rather light along with strawberry chapstick, as if that even counts. Her expression isn't consistent, although partial to a half pout out of habit. Curious, sometimes uncertain in nature. Royal blue, shaggy hair just barely passes her shoulders with yellow streaks splashed in the midst of it. It's usually up in half-up pigtails whenever she's out but can occasionally be seen wearing it down between trips to the shower or just after waking up. Tank tops and t-shirts are what she likes to wear most days, paired with leggings or shorts depending on the day. Marks run along the bridge of her nose and down her arms that light up at the first sign of her abilities, matching the glow of her eyes.

what they smell like : Coconut, almost exclusively. It's just the scent she's surrounded herself out of habit and maybe grew into a constant and ultimately a favorite over time. From bodywash to deodorant she's usually consistent and eager to replace the smell of blood and sweat after a long day. Having left so much at home, this is a nice piece of it she likes to keep with her.

what they taste like : Fruits, they're what she likes to snack on in her down time. Apples, pears, oranges, anything that's readily available, really. Water or juice is what she prefers to drink most of the time and only occasionally things like tea whenever offered or out with others. Coffee and energy drinks are usually avoided because she doesn't usually need any help staying energized. The extra caffeine and sugar would only make it harder than usual to settle down. The fruits are enough.

what they sound like : Neon's tone is often low, not quite as high and light as others but a quality that hasn't bothered her since grade school. She speaks confidently when in her element and in pauses with awkward inflections when she isn't. Her quips and sarcasm are usually reserved for family and friends, a sign that she's comfortable around her company.

what they feel like : Like a warm smile after the brisk winter's bit at your skin. The electricity she generates usually leaves her with fleeting warmth on smooth, soft skin and far more muscle than one would expect. An athlete at heart on top of her training has made building muscle pretty easy. Not too uncomfortable she hopes. Under the rare circumstances she lets you close enough to hug her, let alone cuddle her you'll never escape. It just so happens she's a huge cuddlebug but fears hurting others too much to give in to physical attention. Stuffed animals were the easiest and cutest solution for this, hence why so many crowd her bed.

Killjoy (Klara)

what they look like : Killjoy is slightly taller at 5'6" and like Neon, incredibly expressive. Brown eyes are usually trained on the tools and projects are hands busy themselves with, eager to build and tinker to her heart's content. Tips of long, straight chestnut hair hangs past her shoulders, the rest hidden by a varying colored beanie matching differing circle frames that rest on the bridge of her nose. T-shirts and hoodies are often are preferences. Leggings, jeans or sweatpants are also her forte.

what they smell like : Pomegranate. It's mostly due to her shampoo that she likes to use with faint traces of oil. Submerged into her own work the scent has learned to stick to her like glue, hiding in every part of her she could call her own from her head to toe and even her clothes. It hides beneath the lively scent of pomegranate but it's never untraceable.

what they taste like : Chocolate. Undoubtedly her favorite snack and what she eagerly munches on between her projects and whenever she can sneak some in between training exercises. Her sweet tooth demands sugar and chocolate happens to be the most satisfying treat it's ever had. Any traces of it within the kitchen are usually low so long as she's around to snag it. Although she appreciates other sweets, chocolate is certainly her favorite.

what they sound like : Killjoy's nothing if not confident in almost everything she says. Full of a certain pride it's hard not to notice it between her various achievements and the number of skills she's capable of performing. The flow of her voice attempts to move at the speed of her mind, a feat nearly impossible to achieve without a few hiccups that she makes up for with quick wit and hearty chuckles.

what they feel like : Like a fluffy, soft teddy bear that's long awaited your arrival. Training isn't something she takes lightly given the circumstances but compared to many of the other agents she can't reasonably say working out is one of her favorite pastimes, nor is she the most physically fit. Enough to keep up and stay on track with everyone else but nothing that she would consider overdoing it. Often being bundled up in hoodies and sweatshirts, she's usually quite warm. Tagged by: Everyone under the god damn sun Tagging: Anyone who reads this and hasn't done it yet

[practicepractices]

Week 4: One Felt Natural, One Felt Like a Memory Test

For today’s PS, Mr. Bialak and I continued working on Dream in Exile from where we left off. I also presented the Prélude from Suite Bergamasque. I feel like I’m starting to capture the dreamy and exotic character of Dream in Exile. I needed to shape my musicality more effectively, breaking up bars 45–49 into two phrases for the ear rather than following the long phrase as written in the score. This gives the music a clearer sense of direction instead of letting it meander. A singing quality also needed more attention to enhance the phrasing and expressiveness.

Other areas worked on:

Bar 60: Check rhythm of crotchet triplet

Bars 60-64: Double check RH notes

Bars 66-67: Voice melodic line more clearly

Bars 81-86: Keep LH soft, gentle and elusive

Bar 92: Check rhythm of LH semiquaver triplets

Bars 100-101: Make sure LH notes can be clearly heard

Bars 113-118: Reorganise on how to shape my phrases

Bar 118: Learning to grasp “dying away” both aurally and visually

Bar 120: Do not play RH semiquaver triplet to early since it is “dying away”

While Dream in Exile was generally easier to correct, the Prélude from Suite Bergamasque didn’t go as smoothly. I attempted to play it from memory, but this only exacerbated my performance. My memory wasn’t secure, and I had many stumbles, which disrupted the flow. Without the security of the score, I found myself losing focus on the finer details and struggling with transitions, which affected the overall flow of the piece.

Memorisation has been a challenge for me since Year 1. Despite many attempts, I’ve continued to struggle, and performance nerves only make it worse—causing my memory to crumble easily. I feel nervous whenever I have to present a piece, even if it’s just in front of one person. I tend to lose focus and overthink how bad my playing sounds, making every mistake feel magnified in my ears. No matter how prepared I feel—or how much I’ve actually prepared—it always turns out worse than I anticipated. Even when I keep my hopes low and try to stay positive, the outcome still falls short of my expectations.

I’m not sure how to fix this, and it’s frustrating because I feel like I’ve tried everything—practicing more, mentally preparing myself, and keeping my expectations realistic—yet the problem persists. It’s disheartening to put in so much effort only to feel like I’m not improving where it matters most. I worry that no matter how much I practice, nerves will always get the better of me, making my playing sound worse than it actually is. It makes me question whether I’ll ever feel truly confident when performing, or if this will always be a struggle.

Nonetheless, I think a step forward was me playing from memory in PS, even if it might not seem like a big achievement in other people’s eyes. I’ve always felt extremely shy when presenting my playing—it almost feels too raw and exposed, as if I’m laying a part of myself bare for judgment. The vulnerability of performing, especially from memory, makes every mistake feel magnified, adding to the pressure. Even so, I know that pushing myself to do it is necessary for growth.

Suite Bergamasque seems to be the weakest piece in my repertoire, as its style and interpretation don’t come naturally to me. Unlike Dream in Exile, which felt more intuitive, I find myself struggling to shape the phrases and capture the character of the piece. The lightness, fluidity, and elegance that define Debussy’s style don’t emerge effortlessly in my playing, making it feel less convincing. This disconnect makes me question whether I truly understand the piece on a deeper level or if I’m simply not attuned to its stylistic nuances yet.

We didn’t have much time to work in detail and only managed to go through the first page. Mr Bialak gave lots of feedback and it seems like I was doing something wrong in almost every bar—whether it was phrasing issues or stumbling over notes. On top of that, I was also affected by my own poor playing from memory the first time round, which made me even more unsure of myself.

Conclusion

Overall, this session highlighted some of the challenges I’m still facing in my playing, especially when it comes to memorisation and interpretation. While I’ve made progress with Dream in Exile, it’s clear that Suite Bergamasque needs more attention to bring out its true character and refine my phrasing. My nerves and shyness around presenting pieces continue to be a struggle, and playing from memory, though a step forward, only amplified my insecurities. Despite these setbacks, I’m determined to keep pushing through. Each session, no matter how difficult, brings me closer to understanding and overcoming these obstacles, and I know that with patience and consistent effort, I’ll get closer to the musicality I’m striving for.

[impablohurtado]

August 14th

I like to think of all the people poems have been written for.

Every classic love ballad,

Every sonnet,

Every verse,

A lyric in a song,

Every turn of phrase chosen carefully,

Tucked between words trying to find new ways to describe how someone makes the writers heart flutter and grow.

All those emotions that would've been other wise lost,

Recorded for history,

Because love sometimes is greater than time,

Maybe the only idea that can travel along side the years,

Not pausing or failing,

Existing because it did once so strongly that it was enough

When Pablo Neruda wrote,

"I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long."

Who was he trying to forget?

Did she know he'd affixed a part in his poems just for her,

That for generations people would read of his soul being unsatisfied for having lost her.

Mary Oliver once wrote of how she enjoyed being in the woods alone,

Talking to the birds, hugging the old black oak trees,

To become invisible amongst the roses singing.

She said,

"If you have ever gone into the woods with me, I must love you very much."

Who did she let accompany her,

Did they know what it meant to be there by her side?

For every one written,

On the opposite side of the text stood a person,

A face in the mind of a writer.

How do you convey the way someone fills the days up in such a way they would feel empty without them,

And in feeling empty, be lesser and feel longer.

It seems impossible to fit the whole of a person within a few lines.

Maybe it's why writers can't stop writing,

Maybe it's why I still find words for you.

I think of how someday mine could be read,

How people may wonder over time...

How many people occuppied the space for him to write for them?

When the truth will be, they were mostly ever for you.

I once found an envelope filled with words my dad wrote to my mother,

When I was still a baby and he was locked away for a short while,

Some poems,

Others just letters,

But I did not read them,

Because they were for her and not for me.

Now others may read these poems I've written,

But only you know they are for you.

Time makes us all fade,

We grow old,

Our bodies betray us,

But life goes on.

New people will love,

We'll turn to memories,

Most things will change,

But the words shared,

They always stay the same after they are put down.

I hope that when you are feeling low,

When the days get long and you find it hard to catch your breath,

When you feel less than enough,

That you can read these and know you are more than the sum of your parts,

The good and the bad,

That the love in your heart is so strong it grips those around you,

It makes them better people,

That there's a goodness in your smile that catches everyone,

The way it found its way to me and hasn't left all these years later.

In being friends, in being anything more,

Through it all, the constant was comfort,

Not just in my life, but all of those you touch.

Special doesn't seem enough of a word,

But for now, *

For this poem it will do,

It's exactly what you are.

You once told me if I'd never met you,

I wouldn't know the difference of you being in my life or not,

But I think in some way I would,

That quality in my day would be missing,

The feeling in the air I couldn't quite put my finger on,

The lingering thought that there's something wonderful missing in the world.