#okay first of all i took an edible before i read this—

[ctzenjohnnyreads]

fell to my knees after reading this your honor

After LIKE Part One | smg x f!reader

Posted first on my Patreon

Rating: M | WC: ~4.8k

Mingi has been your plug for nearly three years now. You've always liked him well enough, but something has changed between you. What happens after like?

Notes/Warnings: plug!mingi, weed use, food mention, kissing, stress/anxiety

Grad school is hard. Really hard, you’ve discovered.

You knew it would be, of course, but it’s difficult in ways you didn’t expect. First of all, you have no money. You can afford groceries and rent, thankfully, but luxuries are scarce. You’re also stressed nearly all the time, with your thesis looming over your shoulder and begging you to work on it even when you’re in class. You have friends, but you don’t really get to see them between your work and their own, so you return to an empty apartment most of the time.

You do have a lot of bright spots in your life too, though. You get to study what you love, you have friends to miss, and you can still afford little things that make your life better.

Your phone dings, a tone that means one of those bright spots is especially vibrant today. You just got off work at the coffee shop, a double from 6 AM to 4 PM, and your hair still smells of roasted espresso beans and turmoil but you’re beaming as you throw your uniform off and pull on clean clothes.

Mingi is free for you to come pick up, and after you complained of having trouble last time, he promised to roll your joints for you. He’s an expert and they always burn perfectly, and it also makes you feel a little special. Mingi doesn’t roll for just anybody, and considering that you’re quite literally terrible at it, you really appreciate that you’re somebody to him.

You and Mingi met in junior year of college. You were majoring in Psychology and Mingi was getting his degree in Hospitality, and somehow, you managed to have a shared class nearly every semester. He was cute but your eye was already focused on grad school and you didn’t think you had time for distractions. Then he approached you at San and Yeosang’s party nearly begging for help on the next exam and you decided maybe you did.

You also happened to spot the joints in his t-shirt pocket. You’d been looking for a plug for a while but hadn’t found anyone reliable, and having Mingi in your class would make it incredibly easy to arrange pickups.

Thus, you became Mingi’s tutor and Mingi became your plug, and you kind of sort of became each other’s friends too.

Three years later, you’ve both graduated and moved on; you to a Master’s program in Applied Psychology and Mingi to cooking school. He still deals on the side, but only to a select few as his reputation in the kitchen steadily grows.

The commute to his flat is easy, just a couple stops on the bus and a short walk to his building, and he buzzes you up as soon as you press the intercom button, meaning you only have the elevator ride to the third floor to prepare yourself to interact with him. It’s not that Mingi is intimidating or annoying or hard to deal with, it’s just that he’s so fucking hot you have trouble concentrating sometimes.

He’s always been tall but he’s gotten bigger and bigger over the years, and now the way he fills out his shirts and sweatpants makes you breathless. And, ugh, his smile. It’s so sincere, and kind, and sometimes playful, and sometimes knowing.

He doesn’t know everything though.

He doesn’t know you bought from Wooyoung two weeks ago, and that he smoked you out first.

Mingi always offers; he even offers to pick you up so you can try it before you buy it, but you hardly ever take him up on it because you just can’t get close to him now like you used to. In college, he didn’t affect you this way. He was just the cute guy you bought weed from that could make you laugh, and now, he’s the incredibly hot and caring guy you buy weed from that frequently makes you dizzy.

You needed a break from that, and Wooyoung was available. You can never let Mingi know though, he’ll get too jealous and you won’t be able to handle it.

You arrive at his flat before you’re ready, and you’ve barely knocked when the door unlocks and Mingi and his crooked smile appear in the frame.

“Hey, come in,” he grabs your hand and tugs you inside, your legs working overtime to keep up with his large steps. He leads you to his living room, sitting down on the couch and patting the cushion next to him. You settle a safe distance away, far enough that your thighs don’t touch, and bite back a smile at the way he eyes the space between you.

He leans over to the table next to the couch and pulls a tin from the drawer before opening it and passing it to you. It’s filled with neatly rolled joints, at least ten, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when he tells you the price.

“That’s way too little, isn’t it?” You respond incredulously, looking between him and the tin.

Mingi just shrugs, plopping a small jar of ground weed on the couch cushion between you and replying, “Includes that, too.”

“Mingi,” you try to hold back the whine that wants to sneak out in your voice, only pouting further when he holds up his hands and says, “It’s competitive pricing.”

Competitive pricing. So he does know.

Wooyoung must have bragged to Mingi about it, knowing his meddlesome nature and proclivity for playing with his friends. He’s harmless at his core but likes to cause trouble sometimes, and this is one of those times.

“I can’t believe you let him smoke you out,” Mingi crosses his arms and leans back against the arm of the couch to turn the full force of his guilt trip on you.

You groan pitifully, folding over to bury your face in your knees so you don’t have to look at him any longer. You don’t really have an excuse to give him, one that doesn’t give you away at least, and you definitely can’t explain yourself.

“Ahhh, it’s okay, babe, I’m just teasing,” Mingi rubs your shoulder with a big hand, pulling you up out of your shame bend. He seems sincere, but his eyes still look a bit dim and you vow to yourself that you won’t pick up from anyone else again.

You squeeze the hand on your shoulder before grabbing your phone and sending him the money he’d requested, plus a little extra. It went straight into his account so he can’t do anything about it, and you know he won’t send you the money back because cooking school is so expensive. He glowers halfheartedly at you when he sees the notification but as you thought, does nothing beyond putting his phone away and scrunching his mouth at you again.

Grinning triumphantly, you close the tin and tuck it in your purse along with the little jar he’d prepared for you. It seems you win this round, and you can only hope you win the next too.

Keyboard clicks and taps of a slipper on hardwood fill your room, the silhouette of your hunched, exhausted form illuminated by the bright light of your computer. You have a meeting with your thesis advisor tomorrow, and there’s still so many changes to make. You procrastinated in making use of her comments, leaving your editing to the last minute as usual, and now you’re paying the price.

You’ve been working for hours now, proofreading and crying and proofreading again, and you’re starting to feel like you’re losing your mind. You need a break, desperately, and your phone pings just as you push away from your desk to go lay on your bed.

You could cry (again).

Texting him back with what you think is an appropriate amount of waterfall-eyed emojis, you hop in the shower and go through your routine quickly.

When you emerge from the bathroom, you feel like a person again, and you’ve just slipped into your clothes when Mingi texts you back.

He’s… outside? You rush to your street-facing window and look down, finding Mingi leaning against his car with a beanie covering his hair and a smile big enough to power the stars covering his face. He spots you easily, waving and cupping his hands around his mouth. You fumble with the lock of the window, pushing it up and poking your head out to hear him yell, “Come on, the food’s getting cold.”

Your stomach grumbles, reminding you that you haven’t eaten since breakfast and it’s now, you swear as you check your watch, eight pm. You’re starving and your brain is still making dial up noises and your back hurts from your terrible posture but none of that matters, because Mingi is outside, waiting for you. With food.

You fly down the stairs, bursting out of your building with tears in your eyes and your arms already open for a hug. He pulls you into the cradle of his chest immediately, smoothing a hand over your hair and rubbing your sore back. “Everything okay?” He asks, pulling away to look down at you, his eyebrows furrowing when he spots the bags under your eyes and your stress-bitten lips.

“Let’s get you over to mine, yeah?”

After opening the door with a flourish, he ushers you in with gentle hands and watches as you click in your seatbelt. He jogs around the front of the car, jumping in and checking his surroundings before pulling away from the curb and starting on the way to his place.

“Here, eat something.”

A searing hot bag gets dropped in your lap, smelling of fresh fries and salvation, and you dig in without a second thought. You catch Mingi’s cheeks curving in a smile out of the corner of your eye and fight back a grin of your own, always charmed by the way your happiness becomes his.

Mingi rolls into his parking space with ease, shutting the car off and turning to you to say, “I think you’ll love this new one, I tried it with Woo last night and it knocked us off our asses.”

That sounds like exactly what you need, and you follow closely at his heels as you traverse the hall to his flat. His body blocks your entire view but you stop at the right door anyway, so used to this walk that you could do it with your eyes closed. He unlocks the door quickly and beckons you in first, a wall of scent hitting you and making your eyes tear up.

They’re not watering out of disgust (as they have in the past in other men’s apartments), they’re watering because you can smell spam fried rice, and you know he’s made it for you.

Mingi speeds past you to the kitchen and you go straight to the living room. He said in the beginning to make yourself at home, so you do. You settle into your preferred corner of the couch, noting with something like dragonflies in your belly that he’s already prepared a coaster, blanket, and the remote for you.

You wonder if all his other clients get this kind of luxury treatment, but find yourself not wanting to think of him having other clients at all. You know he does, obviously, but prefer to think he likes you the best and never need to know otherwise.

When you turn the TV on, it’s set to soccer. You’d love to change the channel but recognize the team as Mingi’s favorite, so you leave it on and bump the volume up. Just as they score a goal, he returns from the kitchen carrying two steaming bowls, a pair of water bottles, and utensils. You bounce in your seat as he carefully sets them down on the coffee table in front of you before leaning over to retrieve his bong and lighter from the end table. He’s already packed it, the angel, and he passes it straight to you.

Mingi raises his hand to light it for you as you bring it up to your mouth, and you look up through your lashes at him while you inhale. He holds your gaze, biting his lip and watching you take the hit with darkened eyes.

The taste is sharp in your mouth, the smoke sitting heavily in your lungs for a second or two before you blow it out with pursed lips. You angle away from Mingi, too polite to blow it straight in his face though you have a sneaking suspicion he just might enjoy it. You can still feel his eyes on you, but you need a second to yourself to let the effects roll in.

When you turn back to Mingi, it’s like everything around you has slowed down. He’s grinning proudly, and you’re not sure whether he’s proud of you or his own weed, but you don’t really care either way. You’re just happy that he’s happy, and you hand him the bong with a smile of your own.

Mingi takes his hit quickly and skillfully, and you let your focus fall to the hot rice waiting for you on the coffee table.

It’s delicious, as his food always is, and the comforting flavor shrinks your stress with each bite. Just the one hit was enough to melt you into the couch and with your free hand, you reach for the blanket. It’s hard to spread it over your legs while holding the bowl, and Mingi sets the bong down to help you.

His hands brush your thighs in the process, and you thank yourself for putting yoga pants on after your shower. You already feel floaty, you don’t need the feeling of Mingi’s hands on your skin adding to that.

You hum, taking another bite and snuggling into your blanket before looking up at Mingi. His eyes are already on you and you can see the tips of his ears turn red as a sheepish smile rises to his face.

Catching him looking at you is one of your favorite things in the world, and it happens oh so often. You’re not sure why you’re so fascinating to him, but you won’t complain about it, especially when it means you often get all of his attention.

It’s something you noticed in uni when you started hanging out with him after picking up at parties instead of just leaving like you used to. He would usually be surrounded by a mix of people when you arrived, and as soon as he set eyes on you, it’s like they’d all disappear.

Mingi grabs the bong and offers it to you, exchanging it for your rice. He sets it on the table next to his and lights the bowl for you, tucking into his own rice as soon as it’s burning enough. You take in more this time, feeling the smoke sear down your throat and into your lungs and letting it stay there before pushing it out away from Mingi again.

You breathe for a while, swallowing down a cough with a mouthful of water before turning to Mingi and saying, “Thank you for this, and for the rice. It’s fucking delicious.”

“Course, babe,” he nudges you affectionately with his elbow. “I know it’s your favorite. How’s your thesis going?”

You grimace thinking of the work waiting for you at home, and Mingi rushes to assure you, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”

“No, it’s okay. I just have a meeting with my advisor tomorrow and I left accommodating her comments until the last minute, like a dummy. So I’ve been working on it all day and I’m like, three quarters of the way done but before you texted, I was seriously on my way to losing it.”

Your head falls to rest on Mingi’s bicep, the muscle surprisingly cushy and his smooth skin warm under your cheek.

“You’re not a dummy, you’re a genius. You just procrastinate because you know in your heart that you work best under pressure.”

“No, I just didn’t want to do it,” you reply with a shrug, tilting your head to look up at Mingi.

“Shhhh, my way sounds better,” he places his index finger against your lips and you take a quick breath in, freezing in place. Mingi freezes too, his half-lidded eyes locked on your mouth for one, two, three heartbeats before he pulls away with a forced laugh. He pulls off his beanie to run his fingers through his hair, his attention briefly pulled to the game as his team scores again.

He cheers and bounces in place, flashing a grin at you that turns small, secretive, when he sees the look on your face. You’re still reeling from the moment you just shared, and it’s frustrating that he seems to have completely recovered. Maybe touching you just isn’t that big of a deal to him, maybe he doesn’t feel the distance like you do, or maybe you’re much further gone than he is.

You can believe the first two, but the last one would hurt.

Mingi picks you up this time, takes you for a drive. You think he can tell that you’re not doing the best mentally, because he grins at you softly and squeezes your hand when you get in the car.

You don’t know where you’re going and you don’t care, all you care about is that you’re not staring at your thesis in the quiet dark of your room anymore. It was starting to mock you, the work left undone, and you desperately needed a break.

Mingi texted at the perfect time, just when you were about to officially call it quits. He could somehow tell that you were at the end of your rope, and told you he’d be there in fifteen with something to relax you and a new playlist for you to enjoy.

He arrived in twelve, and your heart fluttered the whole way down the stairs.

Now you’re on the way to a place you don’t know, the street names unfamiliar and the distance growing between your flat and his sedan. You don’t mind it, having needed a getaway for a while, and you settle into your seat with a sigh as the car travels down unrecognizable roads.

An undetermined amount of time passes, your mind going into a soft, relaxed state the further you go. Eventually, you pull up to a deserted park and Mingi turns off the car, looking at you with warm eyes and a charming smile.

“So, I’ve got some blunts for us, and I also went to the convenience store and grabbed your favorite snacks.”

“You sweet, sweet boy,” you breathe, dangerously close to leaning over and kissing him right on those plump lips.

He grins shyly, passing you a blunt and holding up the lighter as you bring it to your mouth. You take in a deep hit, holding the smoke in your lungs for as long as you can take before exhaling away from his face. You feel the haze set in immediately, your combined stress and exhaustion making you that much more susceptible to the high coming over you.

Mingi’s eyes stay on you, feeling like physical weights holding you down as you stifle the rising coughs. You pass him the blunt, watching as he takes in a pull of smoke and blows it out into the vacant backseat.

He holds it out for you, letting go just before you take hold and nearly dropping it in the place of no return that is the gap between the seat and the console. He gasps, fumbling to catch it before it can burn the leather or fall in between the seats.

He grins sheepishly before grabbing your hand in his and wrapping your fingers around the blunt to be sure you’ve got it. You bring it to your lips and take in a breath, feeling the smoke settle in all the crevices of your lungs before you exhale it toward the roof of the car.

Mingi’s eyes are still on you but they feel different, heavier, and when you turn to him to pass the blunt back, his gaze is on your lips.

The hazy air buzzes with electricity, the cab of his sedan suddenly feeling two sizes too small. The blunt burns away where you hold it aloft, just waiting for Mingi to take it. He doesn’t move, seemingly frozen in place as wasted smoke fills the space between you. He finally raises his hand, but instead of the blunt, he reaches for your face, his big palm spanning your whole cheek.

“Y/n, can I kiss you?” he breathes, his voice so full of longing that it takes yours away, leaving you to nod as he leans in. Your eyelids flutter down, your lips just barely puckered and your heart galloping in your chest. It flips when his mouth touches yours, skips when he lets out a wounded noise and presses harder, soars when his fingers slide to the back of your neck and tilt your head to the angle he deems best for kissing you out of your mind.

You sigh into him, melting closer and closer until you’re all but draped over the middle console with just his hand holding you up. He laughs against your mouth, his teeth digging into the plush of your bottom lip just enough to sting. You feel calmer than you ever have kissing someone but you also feel like you could vibrate out of your skin, and it can only be the potent combination of good weed and Mingi.

It’s a cocktail you’ve tried before but never like this, and it only takes a few minutes of his lips pressed to yours for you to know that you can’t go back. You can’t go back to not knowing what it’s like to kiss him, to feel his fingers in your hair, to get this close to him and then have him pull you even closer.

You can’t go back to just being a friend/client, someone who only sees him when they need something.

You want to be more than that to him, and see him all the time, and kiss him all the time, and-

And he’s pulling away. Why is he pulling away?

“Y/n?”

“Hm?” You force your eyes open and lean back far enough to take in his expression. He looks… sad? Regretful? Not exactly what you expected or what you’d like to see after he’s just kissed you for the first time, but you try not to let your feelings get hurt and wait for him to speak.

Except… he doesn’t. He swipes a thumb over your cheekbone and pulls away, reaching into the backseat before setting the bag of treats on your thigh and putting the car in reverse. You’re unsure of what just happened and what to do about it, but you are hungry and you could really use some sugar right now, so you glumly open the bag and start eating.

You chew absentmindedly, your eyes wandering over to Mingi’s face. You can tell he’s focused on driving but he looks stressed, his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed. You wish you could make him feel better but you don’t actually know what’s wrong, and with your mind still buzzing from weed and the kiss, you think talking may not be the best idea.

You ride in silence for a few minutes, watching the buildings whiz past and bopping along to his playlist. When Mingi’s favorite song comes on and he neglects to sing the opening line, you decide you’ve had enough.

“Mingi, what’s wrong?” You plead, your eyes tracing his side profile and your fingers itching to intertwine with his. He sighs, chewing on his lip and nervously darting his eyes from mirror to windshield to mirror.

“I just… I didn’t want it to happen that way. I know I asked, and that’s my fault, this whole thing is, but I- fuck. I’m doing this all wrong.”

Shaking his head, he clicks the blinker on and pulls carefully into a dimly lit parking lot. He turns the car off and undoes his seat belt, turning to you and fighting to tuck one knee up on the seat.

You’re sure your confusion is clear on your face, as is the small amount of hurt you can’t will away, and Mingi takes both of your hands in his, looking at them instead of you.

“I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that. I mean, we were high, you’re stressed, and you’re buying. I guess I just wanted it to be more… romantic, but I got impatient and ruined everything.”

He wanted your first kiss to be romantic. He’s thought about your first kiss before, and about how he wanted it to be.

You could scream, but you figure you should reassure him first.

“Mingi, that’s so sweet I want to cry, but don’t be so dramatic. We can always kiss again.”

“We can?” He pouts, finally looking up and meeting your eyes, his own swimming with what you fear are unshed tears.

“Yes!” you squeeze his hands emphatically, “Literally any time you want.”

“Like… right now?” His eyes dart down to your lips, lingering there as they stretch in a grin. You nod, still smiling, still freaking out inside that he’s envisioned your first kiss, and still desperately hoping for a second.

He leans in closer, his lashes brushing his cheeks and his lips parting before he presses them softly against yours. You can’t help but hold your breath, somehow more nervous about this kiss than the first. It doesn’t take long for Mingi to relax you though, his fingers sinking into your hair and his air mixing with yours.

You sink into the kiss, sighing out the rest of your worries and cupping his jaw to hold him to you. He makes a soft sound as his whole body tips closer, his fingers tightening in your hair and his teeth digging into your bottom lip again. You can’t help but wonder where else he’d bite if given the chance, and can only hope the answer is all over.

When he pulls away this time, you’re dizzy, the sun has gone down, and you’re inches from launching yourself over the center console to climb in his lap. There’s nothing you want to do more than keep kissing him, but it seems he has other plans.

“I should get you home, you need to rest,” he breathes, his voice ragged and his thumb tracing the darkness under your eye.

“No, you should kiss me some more,” you exhale back, sliding your fingers into his hair and using your hold to tug him back to you. His chuckle sounds more like a sigh but he gives in anyway, pressing his plush lips to yours and letting a big hand cover your thigh. You were feeling warm before but with his calloused fingers brushing over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, you feel hot, like you could melt or burst into flames or combust.

Any one of the three is a possibility so long as Mingi keeps his hands on you, which is why you’re part relieved and part devastated when he pulls away. You lick your lips, chasing his taste but letting him settle back into his seat. Your hand falls from his hair and he catches it, smooching the back with a loud smack and brightly grinning at you.

You giggle freely, feeling lighter than you have in days and barely even dreading returning to your flat. “Can I take you home now?” He asks, squeezing at the flesh of your thigh just because he can.

“Yeah, you can take me home now,” you whisper back with a small, fond smile, covering his hand with yours to keep it there as he turns the headlights on and exits the parking lot. You drift for most of the ride back, Mingi’s soft, low voice lulling you slowly to sleep.

You blink awake as he pulls up to your flat, rubbing at your eyes and at the numb spot on your face where you were resting against the window. You look over with a drowsy smile and lean forward to kiss him goodbye, clumsily unbuckling your seatbelt as you do.

“I would walk you up, but I got towed last time,” he pouts apologetically, making you let out a sleepy laugh and respond, “I know, baby, you called me crying after.”

“I wasn’t crying!” he swears as you climb out of the car and gently shut the door.

What you don’t see as you walk away is him slowly tipping forward to rest his head against the steering wheel and whispering gleefully to himself, “She called me baby.”

AN: written as a commission for a diff idol and reworked to fit mingi!! beta’d by @petrichor-mingi thank you!!

part two will have smut :-)))

pls reblog if you enjoyed! i would love to hear your thoughts 💖

My Masterlist

[himbodruid]

Taking a break from Sylus fics to give yall some Zayne!

Zayne x Reader

Intended for 18+ readers. MINORS DNI.

Desperate -:- clothed sex -:- angst -:- possessive Zayne (kinda) -:- Zayne loses control (but not of his evol)

Fic Master List

Desperation in Yearning

There was a certain excitement that came with danger, an addictive rush of adrenaline. Maybe that was why you kept throwing yourself into missions that could end in your death. Or maybe it was some sort of misguided sense of survivor’s guilt, seeing as you’d been quite literally throwing yourself into your work for the last 14 years. Since the explosion. Since your world came raining down in a rain of ash and embers.

Your bags were almost packed, even though the shuttle wasn’t leaving for another several days. Captain Jenna had given you and the rest of the deployment team a few days off in order to prepare for the arduous journey, but you felt unsettled. You needed to move. To do something other than hurry up and wait.

Cooking was a nice way to distract yourself, even if you weren’t very good at it. What you made was edible at least, if not very creative.

A hurried knock on your door returned you to reality on that first night, and you looked up with brows drawn down. You weren’t expecting any visitors, and the stirfry you’d been disassociating over was almost done (note: probably burnt actually). Shaking your head, you removed the pan from the heat and killed the stove so you wouldn’t start a fire in your distraction.

Zayne was there on the other side of the door. He was out of breath, as if he’d run straight from Akso Hospital. He also looked…angry, and you ushered him inside.

“Doctor Zayne? What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

He took a moment to compose himself. It was almost disturbing to see the usually unflappable Doctor Zayne in such a state, and you feared the worst.

“When were you going to tell me,” he demanded. His usually even voice held the slightest of tremors, and you didn’t understand why. His eyes held an intensity to them that made you look anywhere but his face.

“What do you mean? Tell you about what?” He sat heavily in a stool at your breakfast bar and you put a hand on his shoulder. He stiffened under your touch.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re leaving?”

“Oh. That.” You still didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to him. It was just like any other away mission before. You always texted him when you were heading out and he wished you a safe return. And then when you returned, the two of you would go out to dinner together. You always celebrated your wins with him, mourned the losses with him.

“Were you just going to send me some off-hand text again? Letting me know you’d be leaving and then leave me in radio silence for weeks on end? Leave me wondering if everything was going okay, if you were safe- alive, even?”

He stood and punctuated his words by crowding you against the counter. His hazel eyes held a predatory glint to them, a look you were so unused to in his regularly smooth expression. He wasn’t one to wear his emotions easily, and you always struggled to read him. Even now, when he had you pinned at your counter, you couldn’t figure out what he was so upset over.

“Doctor Zayne, it’s fine. I do stuff like this all the time, it’s part of my job.”

His hand slammed down on the counter, making you jump. “Purposefully throwing yourself in harm’s way is not part of the job, not when you constantly do it to the point of self-destruction!”

You stared up at him, eyes wide in wonder. His face was flush and you thought you could read despair in his expression. This was a man that was always calm, cool, and collected, and yet here he was losing his temper at you.

“I…didn’t think of it that way. I’m sorry,” you say to him, trying to appease him so he would relax. But your words only seemed to fuel his frustration even more.

“That’s the problem. You never seem to think,” he whispered, the tremble in his voice more prominent now.

“Zayne,” you say, dropping his title in favour of your friendship. “What’s all this about? I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this. Please, help me understand.”

He blew out a shaky breath and let his head drop to your shoulder. You froze. It’s not that you didn’t see Zayne as a man, it’s that you always thought he never saw you as a woman. You thought maybe he only ever saw you as a trouble-making younger sibling, seeing as you had been friends with him since childhood. But here he was, face buried in your neck while he struggled to maintain his composure.

“I’m tired of watching the woman I love run head-long into danger,” he said quietly. “And not knowing if you’re safe is a special kind of torture I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

You felt your heart shudder at his admission. Oh how you’ve been so stupid, so blind to his true feelings. The only credit you could give yourself is that Zayne wasn’t the best at portraying what he felt, and you were even worse at picking up social cues.

Your mind dug through all of your memories with him. How he would always seem to hug you a little longer than necessary when you came home. How he would always use one excuse or another to call and check up on you. How his demeanor went from cold and distant to warm and welcoming as time passed. The clues were there all along, you just never picked up on them. Or you assumed they were just a natural progression of friendship.

“Zayne, I-“ you didn’t know what to say. How to finish that sentence. You felt like you were in shock and you didn’t know what to do. He lifted his head from your shoulder slowly, bringing those damnably beautiful eyes up to bore into your very soul.

“I hate not knowing if you’ll survive the next mission that takes you away from me. I hate not being able to clear my schedule fast enough to go alongside you as a medic. And I hate the very idea of losing you to your own stubbornness.”

With that, he leaned forward and his lips captured yours. It was hesitant at first, testing, but the last remnants of his control snapped when you returned the kiss in equal measure. He coaxed your mouth open with ease and plunged his tongue in to tangle with yours. He poured all his desperation into you in that single point of contact, his hand coming up to grasp the back of your head to hold you in place.

When he finally broke away to let you have some air, his face was flush with all that was left unsaid. His eyes pleaded with you, his breath mingled with yours. He searched you for the same kind of yearning he bore to you. And when your gaze flicked to his mouth and back to his eyes with a soft sigh, he knew he had his answer.

He hauled you up against him, holding you as close as he possibly could as if that act alone could prevent you from leaving him. As if that alone would keep you by his side and out of danger forever. But it was that threat of danger that made desperation all the more prominent, all the more sweeter.

Zayne carried you to your bedroom without hesitation and without trouble, as though you weighed nothing more than the pen he carried in his lab coat every day at work. Your legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his broad shoulders on instinct, hiking up the skirt you wore and exposing yourself to his chill touch. He plopped down on the corner of your mattress with you straddling his lap, not even taking a moment to break the kiss. You rocked your hips against him, lost to his every touch that drove you deeper into a needy mess.

You hated admitting it, but you knew that this is what you’ve been craving for so long. The realization that you were waiting for him to make a move so that your passion wouldn’t scare the normally reserved doctor away. Zayne was letting go of all those reservations and it was the single most attractive thing you ever experienced.

He devoured you. Touched you. The noises he made shot right to your core and your own noises rose to respond to him. The chill of his hands sent shivers dancing through you. You could feel the length of him hardening beneath you, responding resolutely to the grind of your core against him. One of his large hands found your thigh, smoothing along your skin until he was at your hip and his thumb ran along the edge of your underwear. You were subconsciously glad you wore lace, but it didn’t really matter when you were lost to him. And, gods, the cold metal of his watch pressing into your hot skin did something unspeakable to you.

The pad of his thumb pressed against your clit, making lazy circles as his tongue continued to battle with yours. You couldn’t stop the moan you released into his mouth, but the noise only seemed to goad him further. He absorbed the sounds you made and became drunk off you.

And then you were suddenly pinned underneath him. One hand held your wrists above your head while those elegant fingers of the other dipped into your slicked folds. When he found you wet and wanting, he groaned into your neck. He curled those fingers inside you, eliciting a gasp as he put pressure in the perfect place. You bucked your hips against his hand, chasing the release he was so graciously gifting you.

And when you fell over the edge, you breathed his name into the air like a chanting prayer. Your body arched into him involuntarily and your hands grasped at whatever they could while still restrained.

But Zayne wasn’t done with you. He was far from it.

He removed his fingers from you, bringing them up to inspect the result of your climax still slicked between them. And then he looked you in the eye, muttering ‘beautiful’ before he stuck those fingers in his mouth and savored the taste of you with a moan. And something about that damn watch on his wrist while he did it.

And, fuck, he still wasn’t done torturing you.

The buckle of his belt was loosened and his cock freed from his pants with hardly an effort. He did it all with one hand while still pinning your wrists together above your head. You wanted so badly to touch him, but all you could do was wrap your legs around his hips as his narrow hips nestled between your thighs. And then your underwear was brushed aside and his cock slicked against your folds, a gentle, testing nudge at first. Then pushing further at your moaned pleas.

You all but begged him to fuck you roughly like you wanted, and still he took the time to make sure your petite body could accommodate his size without hurting you. And, oh how he filled you. It was more than you could have ever dreamed, and still he remained infuriatingly still inside you while his mouth worked at yours with promises of what was to come.

You flexed your walls on him in silent revenge, and he hissed a moan into your mouth with an involuntary forward jerk of his hips. And that’s all it took for the dam to break on his control.

Before you knew it, he was slamming into you with reckless abandon, so hard you swore you could feel yourself being moved across your bed. His hand finally released yours and all you could do was cling to him while he basically folded you in half, trying to somehow get even deeper than he already was. His grunts, moans, whimpers were diffused by him burying his face in your neck. You chanted his name into the open air, punctuating it by kisses and bites against whatever skin of his neck and chest you could access.

He hooked his arms underneath your knees, giving himself the most access he could while he pistoned in and out of you like a madman. Every thrust slammed against that sweet spot in your core and you came undone around him more times than you could count before he’d even gotten close to his end. Each climax that swept through you was more intense than the last until you were all but screaming his name.

“So damn…good,” he grunted, his pace increasing as his own orgasm finally neared. His sounds were no longer muffled by your neck or mouth. He let his own pleasured cries rise with yours as he continued making a mess of the both of you. His words became incoherent as he lost himself to the rapture.

Zayne slammed so, so impossibly deep into you with a sound that came out like a mix between a shout and a moan. His climax steamrolled through him so thoroughly that all he could do was jerk his hips while trembling in your hold. Your walls quivered around his cock once more, milking him as he flooded you with his cum.

Zayne collapsed atop you, a sweating panting mess. You realized that the both of you were still fully clothed, so caught up in your frenzied coupling that you didn’t even take time to undress. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed at the madness that’d taken over the both of you. Especially when he was still shifting his hips in micro-thrusts that made you realize that he was still hard inside you.

Everything about this encounter sent a thrill through you, and it was something you would never forget. Though, your mind went blank when he suddenly rode you through overstimulation only to jolt you both through an unexpected mutual orgasm. His cock twitched and pulsed inside you as another deluge of cum filled you. And your body was all too eager to take him in. If it weren’t the sensations of his cock inside you, you were almost certain the sounds he was making would have sent you over the edge again. Or even the contrast of his cold hands on your heated skin.

It felt all too soon, but he pulled from you with a long moan. He kissed you and put his forehead against yours in an action so tender that it nearly brought tears to your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured to you with an embarrassed smile. “That’s not exactly how I imagined that would go.”

“Yeah?” You chuckled. “How was it supposed to go?”

“Slow and sweet. Definitely not horny and wild while clothed,” he grumbled. You couldn't help but look down and grinned when you saw the mess the both of you had made against his nice black trousers.

“Why not show me how it was meant to be?” You ventured. That soft smile of his played across his face as he leaned in and kissed you.

He proceeded to demonstrate what his first idea had been. Soft, slow, and sweet, bringing the both of you to climax over and over. He worshipped your body in a multitude of ways and you were grateful, then, for the days off that Jenna had given you. Because, aside from going home for a change of clothes and picking up some take out, Zayne hardly left your bed until it was time for you to go.

He walked you to the shuttle while trying to stoically hide the devastation in his eyes. Other hunters were already boarding the vehicle, but you turned to face him while your luggage was loaded, drawing him into a tight hug.

“I promise to be more mindful of missions in the future,” you say to him. You lean up in his embrace and kiss him in full view of anyone that cared to look. You knew there would be relentless teasing from Tara, but you didn’t care.

“After all, I have someone at home to look forward to now.”

[maidragoste]

Chapter One: The Reaping

The Hunger Games AU

Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader (I labeled it that even though Jace's backstory is different from Katniss's but he and Reader will be the star-crossed lovers of district 12)

Chapter Two Chapter Three

I really hope you like it because I'm so excited to write this au!

Please let me know what you think in the comments, as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated too 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Jacaerys entered the Victors' Village, not that he was a victor. In fact, his name had never come up in the reaping. But he and his brothers lived there since his uncle Larys took care of them after his father died in the middle of an explosion in the mines while working.

The teenager quickly quickened his pace while adjusting his grip on the only two squirrels he had brought from all the ones he had hunted during the morning with Baela, his best friend. He may not have needed to hunt for food anymore but he was one of the few people in District 12 who knew how to hunt. Some people had depended on bartering with his father to bring a plate of food to his table. His father would not have wanted him to leave those people abandoned, so every day he sneaks into the forest with Baela to look for deer, rabbits, squirrels, birds, fish, or any type of edible vegetable or fruit. He always gave the best goods to Baela, after all, she had more mouths to feed with her mother, her twin sister, and her two little brothers. But the rest he exchanged with the merchants or even sometimes he practically ended up giving away his merchandise due to the low price that he was willing to accept from the families that he knew did not have enough to eat to prevent them from ending up asking for more tesserae. Uncle Larys had never told him but Jacaerys knew that he thought he was a fool for doing that.

Jacaerys hated the silence in the village but it was no surprise considering that of the twelve houses there, the only house that was being inhabited was his uncle's. Of the seventy-three Hunger Games that have been held so far, there have only been two victors from District 12 and the only one still alive is Larys Strong.

Jace hurried into the house trying to ignore the heaviness in his stomach.

“I told you Luke would throw up again this year! You owe me!” was the first thing Joffrey, his youngest brother, said when he saw him.

Lucerys, or Luke as his dad had nicknamed him, was the middle brother, and every year he had the worst time during Repairing; which was the moment when the District escort went up to the podium and then took a random piece of paper from each glass urn, one containing the names of all the boys between twelve and eighteen years old and another with the names of the girls. This was how the tributes were chosen for each Hunger Games. Like any coherent person in District 12 Luke feared being chosen as a tribute and unlike Jacaerys he could not hide his fear.

“Take this to the kitchen,” the oldest of the brothers asked, handing the squirrels to Joffrey before running to the bathroom.

When Jacaerys entered he found Luke hunched over, holding the toilet bowl. Ignoring the smell of vomit he hurried to his brother's side and with one hand began to rub soothing circles on Luke's back while the other brushed the hair from his face. He doesn't know how many minutes they stayed like this until the youngest finally stopped vomiting.

"I'm sorry, Jace" Luke apologized with a broken voice and tears on his cheeks, clearly feeling ashamed for being in the same position for another year. "I really tried."

"Hey, you have nothing to apologize for," Jacaerys denied as he helped him up from the floor. "It's okay to be afraid. Only an idiot wouldn't be afraid."

"Joffrey is not afraid," the youngest murmured after cleaning his face.

Joffrey must have been the only thirteen-year-old in District 12 who wasn't horrified at the thought of his name coming up in the Reaping. Jacaerys believed it was because Joff thought he would be able to win the games just by being a relative of a victor. Also, of the three, Joff seemed to want Uncle Larys's validation and attention the most. In these three years living with him he had never told them that he loved them but Jace thought that he should at least care a little about them because otherwise he could have let the authorities take them to the community orphanage instead of taking care of them.

"I told you, an idiot," Jace said, managing to get a small laugh out of Lucerys. "Listen, Luke. Everything will be fine. You never asked for a tessera so your name is only on four pieces of paper."

In the first year when you started to be part of the Reaping, they put your name only once in the bowl. But every time you have a birthday they add another paper with your name on it. If you do not ask for any tessera then it is assumed that you will reach the age of eighteen with only seven papers.

Jacaerys always tried to reassure his brother, and also himself, saying that the chances of his name coming up were low compared to all the people who had to ask for tesserae to be able to eat.

"Lucerys, Jacaerys, start getting ready for the Reaping" Larys ordered from below. There was no need for him to shout as the house was silent.

"Take a bath, you stink" Jacaerys mocked, ruffling Lucerys's hair before leaving him in the bathroom.

"Happy Hunger Games! and may the odds be ever in your favor!" greeted Effie Trinket, the District 12 companion, with the same excitement as in previous years.

While Effie gives a speech about what an honor it is for her to be there as a companion, Jacaerys's eyes meet Baela's. She smiles at him and he struggles to return it. Baela is so brave, he doesn't know how she isn't trembling with fear knowing that her name is at least twenty times. Maybe in recent years she was no longer asking for tesserae but before Jacaerys moved in with his uncle she had.

"Ladies first!" said Effie announcing that it was time for the drawing. She approaches the urn with the girls' names and then reaches deep inside and takes out a piece of paper. You can feel the tension in the air and for a moment everyone seems to hold their breath until Effie opens the paper and I read it "Y/n Y/l!"

Shit. Jacaerys knew you. He had seen you more than once at the bakery when he went to buy or exchange his merchandise with your father. Not only that but you two share classes together at school. You weren't friends. But you were still there for his brothers when he was too devastated by the death of his father to care about anyone else. You were the one who stopped some idiots from bothering Luke at school, you were the one who helped Joffrey with his homework to prevent him from repeating a grade, and you, in the only conversation you ever shared, reminded him that he was important to the District, that his brothers needed him, that he could not abandon them, that his father would not have wanted to see him as a ghost in life, that he would have wanted him to help the people of the District.

Jace had to go say goodbye to you, his gratitude may be three years late but he needed to thank you for taking care of his brothers when he had failed them and remind him that he had a purpose.

Jacaerys watches you move towards the stage. Your posture is straight, your chin up and your steps are firm but he can see the uncertainty in your eyes. You still look pretty in your pink dress, it wasn't glamorous at all—no one in the district wears glamorous clothes—but in his eyes, you stood out. It's probably because, unlike other girls in the district, your clothes didn't hang off and your bones didn't show, you didn't look like someone who was malnourished.

Maybe with your beauty and if you had a good interview you could get lucky and captivate a sponsor, he thought. He hoped that this year his uncle would try even harder to bring home a winner.

Once you are on stage Effie asks for volunteers. Of course, no one offers.

“Now it's time to meet our male tribute!” Effie announces, rushing to the boys' urn and pulling out the first piece of paper she sees, “Lucerys Strong!”

This must be a nightmare, Jacaerys thought. They were supposed to be safe, they had never asked for tesserae. He was snapped out of his stupor by hearing Joffrey's desperate cries calling for Luke as his brother began to walk with fear and tears in his eyes to the stage. Jace didn't even think about it, he broke out of his formation and started running after Lucerys.

“I'm a volunteer!” he shouted when the peacekeepers grabbed him, wanting to take him away from Lucerys. “I volunteered as a tribute!” he repeated, standing up straight, once they released him.

"Magnificent!" Effie exclaimed, happy because there was finally some action in the District. "But you are supposed to present the winner of the reaping first and then ask for volunteers…"

"Just let him up," the mayor interrupted her sharply, clearly upset by the situation. He knew Jacaerys because he always bought strawberries from him and Baela.

“No, Jace!” Lucerys said with a trembling voice, still shaking her head. “You can't!”

“Go to Joffrey” the eldest brother ordered firmly, he wanted to hug Luke but he was afraid that if he did he would also start crying and he couldn't do it knowing that the cameras were filming everything. He couldn't appear weak. “Go,” he repeated, pushing him aside and heading to the stage without looking back.

Jacaerys' brown eyes meet yours and the heaviness in his stomach increases. He would have to kill you if he wanted to come home, you, the person who pushed him to move forward after her father's death. He had never thanked you and much less would he do so now knowing that in a few days, he may be the one who ended up killing you. Obviously, luck was not on his side but if you died he really hoped that it would be another of the tributes who would end up taking your life. If it became him and he managed to win the games, Jacaerys was sure that there would not be a day in which he would not think of you.

"Wonderful!" Effie exclaimed once the young man finished climbing the stairs. "What's your name?"

"Jacaerys Strong," he answered.

"I'll bet my shoes he was your brother. You didn't want him to steal your glory, did you?" The companion's smile disappeared before the furious looks of the victor and the tributes. "Good! Let's give a big round of applause to our new tribute!"

But no one applauds. The entire District demonstrates its disagreement with its silence. Not only that, but many people begin to bring the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and then point them at Jacaerys. He looks shocked as they give him that gesture. It was not a common thing to be used in the District but every once in a while, someone would do it during funerals. It was a gesture of giving thanks, of admiration, of farewell to a loved one. The same gesture they had made at his father's funeral. Jacaerys feels a lump form in his throat. He can't help but look at you, this was thanks to you, if you hadn't reminded him that the District needed him like they needed his dad then maybe he would have continued in silence staring into nothingness, living mechanically instead of starting to help people like his dad used to do.

The mayor begins to read the Treaty of Treason. Once he finishes he instructs you and Jace to shake hands. Jacaerys notices that your hand is a little smaller than his and he feels warm against hiss. You catch him off guard when you squeeze his hand as if to encourage him. He returns the gesture even though he knows he shouldn't, it wasn't the time to become friends.

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[cinnbar-bun]

Together (Benn Beckman x Reader)

Summary: As the "mom" and "dad" of the Red-Hair Pirates, you and Beckman have a lot of work on your plates. (Un)Luckily for you two, your crew decides to meddle with your relationship (again).

A/n: A gift for my friend, @fanaticsnail . Enjoy the first mate, darling <3.

Notes: F!Reader, kinda of a will they-won't they type thing. Everyone is shipping it just Beck and Reader lowkey refuse to admit it. Lots of fluff and teasing. Reader is referred to as 'mom' and Beck as 'dad'.

Word Count: ~3k

You can read on my AO3 here!

“Dad! Mom’s being mean to me again!” Shanks loudly yelled while he was chugging more bottles of rum. The first mate sighed at the nickname but didn’t even bother to turn around and face his captain. 

“(Y/n)?” Beckman called out. 

“Yes?” You replied, the other members of the crew staring at you both with wide smiles and bated breath. 

“Smack him for me,” Beckman chuckled. Shanks let out a faux-offended gasp as the deck erupted with laughter.

“You’re so mean to me! How could my own first mate do this to me?!” Shanks whined as you pat your poor captain’s head. He pouted like a little kid before he took another swig of his alcohol. 

“That’s just what you get, Captain!” Lucky Roux laughed. “You know Beck won’t ever disagree with (Y/n)!” 

“Well some of us need to be the adults around here,” Beckman retorted. He held two mugs in his hand, one filled with his coffee, the other prepared just for you. For the first mate, it was practically routine to make your morning drinks for you. He silently handed off your mug to you, and you took it with a hushed ‘thank you’. “Are you still making the list?” 

You nodded while going over the notepad in your hand. “Tomatoes, potatoes, onions…” 

“Don’t forget to add some carrots, since someone,” Beckman’s eyes narrowed at Limejuice, “burned them all.” 

“Hey! It wasn’t my fault! I thought you eat them if they were black!” Limejuice tries to explain. 

“They’re carrots, you can eat them raw!” Beckman shouted in exasperation. “You guys are going to kill me one day!” 

“Oh, don’t be too harsh on them, Beck,” you try to soothe the first mate. “I can always take care of cooking duties, anyways.” 

The men nodded, eager to have your cooking as a guarantee instead of whatever slop they would make in their often drunken stupor. 

“Thanks, mom!” Yasopp cheered. “You know we love your cooking!” 

“Not happening,” Beckman deadpanned. The men slunk their shoulders and groaned. 

“Why not? (Y/n) makes the best food!” 

Beckman rested a hand on his hips. “Because (Y/n) is already busy taking care of a majority of the duties on this ship. I’m not having her overwork herself because you guys couldn’t figure out that carrots are edible.” 

Shanks put down his drink and nodded. “I have to admit, it’s pretty true. Beck has a point.” 

“Thanks, Capta-” 

“So I guess if you want (Y/n) to cook, you need to start picking up the slack!” Shanks proclaimed. “That’s a good compromise, right?” 

You shrugged. “I-I mean, it’s really not necessary, I can cook, too.” 

Beckman placed a hand on your shoulder and shook his head. “(Y/n), they’re grown men, they can do their own laundry and dishes. You don’t need to do everything.” 

“I could say the same thing to you,” you chuckle. “‘Dad’.”

“Not you, too,” he groaned. “You know I hate that nickname.” 

“I know, but it fits you.” 

“‘Mom’ fits you as well.” 

“Okay, you two, get a room!” Shanks laughed. Beckman glared while Shanks waved him off. “Anyways, why don’t you two take care of the shopping today? The men and I will handle things back here.” 

“Are you sure? But Yasopp was saying-” 

“Bah!” Shanks laughs off your concern before rummaging for a bag of coins. “Yasopp wasn’t planning on doing anything. Just take your time and get whatever you guys want. I better see you two relaxed and having fun when you get back!” 

Beckman made a puzzled face as he took the bag of money. “You’re not slick, Shanks.” 

“What’re ya talking about, Beck! I’m just saying, you two should take it easy today. You guys keep this ship and crew running. As captain, it’s only natural I let my best mateys have a day off every once in a while. I’m not some tyrant, you know?” 

You stifle the laughter in your throat and and close your notepad. “Well, we really can’t complain, Beck. Let’s enjoy shopping for a bit.” 

“Sure thing,” Beckman relented. He made sure his pistol was strapped to his belt and put the money into his pocket. “You got the list?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Good. I heard this island is supposedly famous for their bread. If we’re early enough, we might be able to snag some right from the oven,” Beckman comments. Your eyes widen. 

“Really? We gotta hurry then.” 

“Bye mom, bye dad!” Shanks waves with his remaining arm, causing the other members to rush back to the deck to see you off. 

“Bye, you two!” Lucky Roux waves his stick of meat. “Don’t have too much fun!” 

“Don’t stay out too late, lovebirds!” Yasopp jokes. 

“Keep talking like that and I’ll not bring any rum back,” Beckman threatens. 

“Aghhhhh! MOM! Do something about him!” The men whine to you while some of them boo and chide Beckman. 

“Bad, Beckman, bad,” you chuckle as you and Beck begin to walk down the ship. 

“You’re right,” Beckman plays along. “I’m just a horrible, terrible first mate.” 

“The cruelest first mate around.” 

“Mhm. And what does that make you? Just as bad?” 

“Probably.” 

You two go through the streets of the island, taking in the sights. It isn’t long before the sweet smell of bread begins wafting through the air and taking hold of the both of you. 

“Oh man, they weren’t kidding,” Beckman mumbled after inhaling the smell. 

“I think that means we came just in time,” you grin, excitedly walking up to the door of the bakery. You marveled at the selections within the store, as well as some of the bakers making the bread behind the counter. 

“Wow…” you tap your chin. “Maybe we should get some brioche.” 

“They do have flatbreads, too. We could get those for a meal,” Beckman hums thoughtfully. 

“With tuna?” “Now you’re cooking. Add that to the list for our next stop,” he commented, and you nodded before writing ‘tuna’ on your list. 

“I’ll add some rice as well,” you say. 

Soon, it is you and Beckman’s turn to order, and you two greet the old woman working at the counter. 

“And what can I get you two?” You begin to place your order, before turning to Beckman. 

“Do you think we should get anything else?” You ask, glancing back toward the display of pastries. Of course the first mate caught that and nodded. 

“Two pastries,” he added. “You want that one, right?” Beckman pointed at your favorite pastry and you smile bashfully at the fact he knew what you liked without you having to say a thing. 

“Yep, that one,” you confirm. The old woman grins at you two and begins to package your bread. Beck takes the box of it to carry, and promptly thanks the woman. Afterwards, she puts your two pastries in a small, wax paper bag and hands it to you. She sighs contentedly and has a nostalgic look on her face. 

“Oh, you two remind me of the good ol’ days. May your love stay with you forever,” she wishes. The sentiment catches you off-guard for a brief moment. “Sorry, we’re actually-” 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Beckman thanks her. Your eyes widen as he smiles at you, and you can’t help the smile forming on your lips, either. You wave goodbye to the woman and exit the bakery with Beckman. 

“Why’d you say that?” You ask, curious of his intentions. He shrugs, but there’s still a playful grin on his face. 

“Felt natural,” is all he says as you two continue down the street. You rummage through the paper bag and get out the pastry he ordered for himself, one made with figs, and hold it to his lips. He stops his mindless chattering about things to get and leans down to take a bite. 

“Mm, that’s so good. They got good figs,” he mumbles with a mouth full of pastry. You laugh at his silly behavior and wipe some of the crumbs off his chin. 

“Let me try mine.” You take out yours and bite into it, melting at the exquisite taste of the pastry. “Oh, that’s amazing.” 

“Right?” He says enthusiastically. “We have to come back here again and get some more another day.” 

“We should bring some back for the crew next time.” 

“Nah. Let’s keep this one our little secret,” he winks at you. 

“You’re a very cruel first mate, Beck,” you tease. 

“Well, can you blame me? They won’t taste as good without you eating them with me.” 

“I think I have to agree.” 

The day continues on like this, with you two continuing to shop and cart around box after box of supplies for the ship. Beckman and you have practically inspected every item for the freshest produce, meat, and fruits for the crew. Thankfully, you two are the most organized and efficient members of the crew and are practically finished before lunch. 

“Did we grab coffee beans?” You ask, looking at your list again. 

“Right here, dear,” he answers, showing you one of the bags. 

“Okay, good,” you check off another box. “Is that really it?” 

Beckman looks over your shoulder to see the list and the boxes all around you. “Would you look at that… guess we really did get everything.” 

“I mean, this looks like all we need, but we did it so quick,” you say, admittedly wanting to spend more time with the first mate. 

“We did. I guess that’s what happens when you don’t send Roux and Yasopp to do the shopping.” You laugh as you remember the time when those two went to get the supplies, only to come back near midnight with only the most expensive of alcohols and hardly any food. From then on, Beckman had set a rule that if anyone messed up that bad again, they’d have to pay with their own coin. 

“Should we head back, then?” You ask. 

“If you want. I have no problems walking around the town with you,” he replies. 

“Considering you’re pushing that cart, I think we should go back and drop the supplies off.” 

“It’s not a problem, (Y/n). This is pretty easy to pull,” Beckman assures you. 

“Still, I-” you begin, before Beckman places a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey. It’s okay,” he states. “I’m happy to keep walking with you. After all, even our captain said we should enjoy ourselves. I don’t see any issue with us taking a bit longer to go back.” 

“You really mean it?” Beckman nods. 

“I do mean it. I enjoy our time together, and it’s rare we get the time to just do as we please.” 

You hesitate for a moment then nod at him. It is true, as a pirate, especially in the crew of a notorious Yonko, moments of peace are rather rare and fleeting. Not having to fight for your life or the world is a nice change of pace every once in a while. 

“Okay. Where to next?” You ask as Beckman leads you deeper into the city. The shops are more refined compared to the street markets near the port, leading your eyes to wander. You gasp and stop in front of a display window when you see a gorgeous selection of bracelets. Some are made with gold, others silver, and another with a shiny, black material. Beckman notices you frozen at the display and makes his way to you. 

“Come on, let’s go in.” 

“Huh? Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m just looking.” 

“Don’t be so modest, (Y/n),” Beckman urges. “Go try one on.” 

“I don’t have the-” 

“Nope. No more excuses,” he shakes his head as he opens the door to let you in. You step into the store, amazed at the beautiful jewelry surrounding you. A salesperson greeted you and chatted with you about the bracelets you saw on display. They pulled out the displays for you to try on and you debated which one to pick. 

“Hm…I think I want to try that one on,” you point at the gold bracelet. The salesperson clasps the bracelet gently on your wrist and you marvel how it sparkles under the light. “Beck, what do you think?” 

You show off the bracelet to him and he stares at it with a surprised expression before he composes himself. “It looks great on you.” 

The excited look on your face makes his heart beat faster as you tell the salesperson you want to buy it. 

“Good choice. I do want to let you know we are currently doing a promotion for this particular set. If you buy another one, it’s 50% off.” 

You turn to Beckman expectantly. “Do you want to get one then, Beck? We can match!” 

He examines the bracelets. “I don’t know, I don’t think they’d look that good on me.” 

“Hey, you can’t pull that trick on me after you made me come in here!” 

“Fine, fine,” he chuckles. “I think I’ll try this one.” He picks out the black bracelet and puts it on. He looks impressed with the jewelry and his face softens as he looks into your eyes. 

“Well? Does it look alright on me? Definitely doesn’t look as good as it does on you,” he jokes. 

“It looks great,” you look back into his eyes as you press your wrists next to his. “I think this should be another of our little secrets.” 

“I’m starting to think my bad behavior is rubbing off on you,” he smirks, as he goes to pay for the jewelry. 

“Maybe it is, Beck,” you respond as your eyes are locked on your matching bracelets. 

The afternoon is spent wandering aimlessly in this town. You two visit nearly every shop, walking and chatting about everything under the sun. Things like memories, what the crew was possibly up to, to even the most mundane topics like sweets and how you like your eggs prepared. 

It feels simultaneously too short and like an eternity between the two of you. He continues to lug around the cart of supplies and other things you two bought in your impromptu shopping trip, never looking any worse for wear. He doesn’t care to focus on something like that when he’s with you. 

The sky is beginning to turn a bright orange and pink as the two of you finally manage to get back to the ship. 

“Wahhh! Mom and dad are back!” Roux yells as the men cheer. Shanks leans over the edge and smiles at you two. 

“Well, well, I didn’t think either of you had it in you to take a break!” Shanks admits. “We all started placing bets on if you would be back by noon.” 

“I was saying midnight, for the record,” Yasopp shouted. 

“You guys are so immature,” Beck chuckles while shaking his head. “We just explored some of the shops. Got a few things.” 

“Anything fun~?” Limejuice says. 

“Bowls?” You lift a few of the new bowls you bought at a store. 

The men throw their hands up and groan. “Really? Nothing else?” 

“Nope,” Beck lies, making them all quiet. He scans the deck and notices it’s rather clean compared to the smelly and alcohol-ridden floor. “So, you guys actually did clean up, hm?” 

“Yeah! Course we did!” Shanks proudly exclaims. “I told you we’d handle it. Now where’s the rum-” 

“When we have dinner.” 

“Ugh… why are you the worst?” 

“Don’t be like that, Shanks,” Beck crosses his arms. “(Y/n) and I won’t be around all the time to handle everything. It’s good for you guys to learn to take care of the ship.” 

Yasopp sighs. “Always so mature and level-headed, I tell you.” 

“You’re so lame, Beck! How does (Y/n) put up with you?” Limejuice whines. 

“Mom, tell Beck he’s boring and needs to be cooler!” Hongo cries. 

“Enough complaining, help put these supplies away,” Beckman points to the boxes. The crew begins to do as told while you and Beck start unloading some of the supplies. As you do so, Shanks calls your name. 

“Hey, gorgeous bracelet. Where’d you get it?” He asks, loving the gold on it. You jump when he mentions it and look at Beckman, who gives a simple nod. 

“Just got it from the shops. It was on sale.” 

Shanks nods and lifts your wrist closer to inspect the bracelet. “Wow, it really looks great on you.” 

“She would hardly step into the shop until I made her. She was eyeing that the whole time,” Beck teases you. 

“Not the whole time, exactly,” you try to explain. “It just was pretty, is all.” 

Beckman lifts a box up to a shelf and Roux loudly gasps, surprising everyone. 

“Beck!” 

“What? What’s wrong?” You and Beck say at the same time. Roux has a knowing smirk on his face as he points to Beckman. 

“You got a matching bracelet, too!” Roux shouts. Shanks and the other men gasp and move in closer to look at it. As Roux said, the black bracelet on Beck’s wrist matches yours perfectly, and the men howl in laughter. Some even begin to exchange money as you and Beck are mortified at their behavior. 

“You guys seriously made bets?!” You cried. 

“It was just a simple one!” Hongo admitted. 

“And who was the one who said they were doing more than just shopping for food?” Yasopp rhetorically asks. 

“You were also the guy who said they’d return at midnight. You lose half,” Roux retorts as he takes the money in Yasopp’s hand. Shanks huffs as he also gives some money to Roux. 

“So like, did you two confess?” Shanks asks hopefully. 

“For the last time- we’re not dating!” You and Beck shout in unison. 

“Could’ve fooled me. You guys act like you’re married.” 

“You guys are in so much trouble,” Beck sternly tells the men as he steps closer to them. 

Some of the men begin to scream in horror. “Whaaaaa! Mom! Save us!”

[xoluvx]

whew i need a whole series on the first time stuff with billie. maybe first time riding her and shes talking you through it??

oh my .. this concept is just perfection !!

previously: first time with a girl

you were nervous. so nervous you were sitting on the bed watching as she strapped the harness on her body. reliving the events of the previous hours. the dildo stared right at you. you'd just learnt what it felt like to be with a girl and here was billie making all sorts of fantasies come true.

"it's okay, baby girl," she cooed holding your chin bringing her lips to connect with yours. you gulped when she pulled away pressing her forehead on yours.

"you want to be on top?" she asked leaning on the bed supporting her weight with her hands. you nodded and she smiled.

"okay," she licked her bottom lip with a glint in her eye. she sat on the bed, ushering you to join. you took her hand and she tapped her thigh to motion for you to get on. you gulped placing a leg on either side of her body until you were hovering over her lap. she ran a finger between your folds and moaned when she felt how you wet you were already.

you smile sheepishly at her reaction. then she reached for the night stand pulling something out of the drawer. you looked at the small bottle with curiosity.

"i don't think we'll need this, but-" she opened the lid and the overwhelming smell of fake strawberries filled the room. you looked down between your legs as she grabbed the dildo squirting some of the lube on it. you watched her stroke it once.

"give me your hand," she instructed. you looked at her briefly before holding out your hand. she wrapped it around the fake cock, wrapping her own fingers around yours. she led you in stroking the dildo. you watched your hands in a trance. the cock glistening as she let go of your hand.

she put her index finger in her mouth releasing it with a pop. you watched stunned.

"it's edible," she smirked and your cheeks felt flushed again.

"don't be scared," she purred. she helped you align yourself with the dildo holding it in one hand, the other holding your ass. you let your body fall slowly, the cock pushing through your walls.

"oh my god," you whispered tossing your head back as your body slowed.

"it's okay sweetheart,” her voice was sweet and reassuring. she held your ass as you hovered, the dildo only half way in. she watched you, your eyes glistening. “you ready?” she asked and you nodded with a yes, your hands digging into her shoulders.

she pulled you down gently until you’d swallowed her whole. you whimpered feeling the cock hit your cervix. the feeling sweetly intoxicating.

“you can move baby,” she purred. “-like this,” she held your hips tugging back and forth. you obliged swaying your hips. you felt insanely tight and tingly. your movements were tentative still unfamiliar with this new feeling.

billie’s hands trailed up your back pushing down on your shoulders. a sharp moan left your mouth and you looked down at her. she moved her hips matching your swaying. it felt so blindingly good.

“fuck, that’s good baby” she spoke as if reading your mind. she brought her hands to your breasts. she squeezed before slapping your tits, your movements now slowing.

“go faster,” she instructed and you nodded longing to please. she held your breasts as you moved faster. the sound of your bodies sliding, pussy clenching around the fake cock lit something in you. you searched for a place to rest your hands. but instead billie grabbed your body bringing you down flushed against her own. you wrapped your arms around her neck and she rested hers on your ass gently slapping every few seconds encouraging you to keep moving.

“good girl,” she encouraged and you whimpered at the comment.

“just like that, don’t stop” she demanded kissing your cheek.

your cries were growing louder as you moved in the way she’d instructed.

“what do you feel?” billie’s voice was raspy as she pulled on the back of your head trying to see your face. you were out of breath, lips pouting.

“feels like i’m gonna pee,” you confessed and you instantly regretted using those exact words.

“you’re gonna cum,” billie chuckled moving her hips to match your movements again. she held you down and you jerked.

“cum on my cock,” she snarled and you moaned feeling your nipples harden at the command.

she did things to your body you couldn’t comprehend and you only wanted this to be the first of many.

continued

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Waffles for breakfast

Pairing/AU: Joel Miller x afab!reader, no outbreak so flour is safe in this one lol

Words counts: 1141

Rating: +16? (just a little tiny smut 👀)

Tags: pov second person, no use of y/n, reader is described having breasts and vagina, no other description is given, established relationship, a huge amount of fluff, mutual masturbation, unprotected p in v (do better irl!), joel cooks (i feel like this needs its own tag 😂)

A/N: another thing I wrote a year ago, revised and corrected. I hope there are no mistakes but if there are please, forgive me.

Enjoy the Sunday fluff my lovely friends, hope you’ll like it and you’ll have a really nice day♥️

Tagging: @baronessvonglitter , @aurorawritestoescape, @milla-frenchy and @bean-is-reading just to say thanks for your encouragement, kindness and support, you all are great and deserve the world 😭♥️

Thanks to anyone who reads this!

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

“Joel”

“What”

“Leave it alone, there's no need for you to do it”

“I’m doing great!”

“Okay”

You are observing a batter that is too liquid and full of lumps.

Joel got into his head to prepare breakfast this morning, perhaps because last night you ironically commented on his total inability to cook something vaguely edible.

“Let me finish, you'll see you'll like them”

He got into his head to make you waffles.

Him.

The one who burns everything he tries to cook, the one who holds a neat pile of takeaway flyers near the phone.

His idea of fine cuisine is fried chicken wings or pepperoni pizza with olives.  

You tried to make him forget that he promised you, you tried very hard.

This morning you woke up first, slipped over to his side of the bed and hugged him, clinging to his back and encircling his waist with one arm.

You intertwined your legs with his to get as close as possible and slid your hand under his shirt caressing his tummy, leaving little kisses on his wide back through the shirt. 

Your hand made its way into his boxers to reach his sex and you gently stroked it until you felt it get hard.

He made a grunt as he woke up and put his big hand on yours, continuing to massage. 

You surrounded the base with your fingers, slowly going up to the tip, stroking his cock.

Slowly.

He made a deep, hoarse moan. 

He turned to look at you and held you close, lowered a hand on your sex and massaged you in turn.

You took back his shaft in your hand and you both continued like this, caressing each other, looking at each other smiling, until everything became too hot and blurry.

You undressed in an instant, throwing everything on the floor.

You rode him the way he likes it, your hands resting on his broad chest while he held you firmly by your hips. He always says he loves seeing you like this and he loves your tits bounce before his eyes.

You lay on him exhausted, totally satisfied, he hugged you tightly.

“God baby, you're amazing”

He kept you like this for what seemed like an endless time and anyway you wish it never ended.

He kissed your forehead and nose and whispered “well, good morning I guess”.

You giggled then kissed that little patch in his beard that you adore “Good morning, Joel”.

You thought he'd forget by then and never get up.

Joel, however, is a man who keeps his promises.

He is a stubborn man, above all, when he gets something in his head, nothing stops him. Whether it's small or big doesn't matter.

And he would do anything when he cares about a person.

He got up and you saw him disappear in the bathroom.

 You wanted to follow to continue distracting him but you knew that it would be useless anyway so you decided to enjoy the warmth of the bed for a while longer, wrapped in his scent on the sheets and pillow.

You heard the shower water flowing and after a few minutes he came out with a towel around his waist, a few drops of water still on his skin, chest, shoulders, wet hair pulled back.

A breathtaking view.

You would have liked to drag him back to bed but he headed to the closet, pulled out a clean t-shirt, boxer briefs and a pair of sweatpants.

He got dressed and said, “stay in bed, babe, I'll make you breakfast” with a smile so sweet and enthusiastic that it melted your heart.

 You didn't have the courage to say no to him, and now you're here, watching him energetically turn a spoon into the bowl and try to remove the lumps from a too liquid blob. You wonder how he was able to make it liquid but at the same time lumpy.

You smile, looking at how he's trying.

“Joel, please. There are frozen pancakes in the freezer.”

“Absolutely not, it's Sunday, I won't let you eat frozen stuff”

And you laugh thinking that he would like to give you that thing that he is furiously stirring instead.

It looks like glue.

You stop protesting, because you see how tenderly he looks at you, you see how convinced he is as he pulls out the waffle iron and lets it warm up.

In the meantime, the batter has thickened a bit but it remains full of lumps.

You offer to set the table, but he doesn't want you to do that either.

“Today you have to relax, I'll take care of you”

You stay on your stool, with your elbows leaning against the island counter looking at him and remaining silent, enjoying the sight of his arms delightfully embraced by his t-shirt.

He puts two placemats on the counter, two plates, cutlery and glasses. 

He takes the orange juice out of the fridge.

Pour a little batter on the iron, close and wait with a satisfied smile.

What he puts on your plate it’s the ugliest waffle you've ever seen but you don't have the heart to tell him.

Not when he seems so proud and convinced of his work.

After all, what does it cost you to taste?

You hope you won't need to call 911.

You chew slowly, tasting a strange flavor, but you don't say anything.

He looks at you in expectation.

“So, how is it?”

“Good” you try to say, but you don't know how to swallow the bite.

It's weird, gummy, incredibly salty.

You keep chewing while he takes a bite too.

He chews for a few seconds and then roll his eyes and bend over the sink spitting.

“My God it’s horrible! Don't eat it!”

At his surrender, you can no longer resist and you also spit in the sink and then turn on the garbage disposal hoping that that horrible thing will disappear forever.

 You laugh, you laugh so much that tears come to your eyes while he looks so sorry.

“I think I put salt instead of sugar in it” he murmurs.

You keep laughing, as you approach to hug him “how much did you put in, a whole jar?”

“Fuck” he rolls his eyes, looking frustrated.

“Babe, it doesn't matter, really”

You squeeze him as much as you can, he put his chin on your shoulder “I’m sorry, I wanted to do something nice”

“Don't worry, you tried” you stroke the back of his neck trying to comfort him “I appreciate it anyway”

His strong arms surround your waist and you wouldn't want to change him with anything in the world.

You look him in the eyes “I love you”

“Damn I guess that's true, considering the crap I just made”

And he laughs too, finally relaxed.

“I love you too”

And he kisses you.

After all, breakfast is not that important.

[haesunflower]

xdinary heroes reaction to receiving flowers

genre: fluff

pairing: reader (mostly gn) x all members

about/tags: xdh reacts to you buying or giving them flowers

established relationship, bullet point reactions, lowercase is intentional, this is my first work for xdinary heroes, afab for gunil's, i had to google what each flower represented, sorry for inaccuracies, dedicated to requester @snowflakemoon3

⠀⠀ gunil ⠀⠀

gunil is a whiner

so one day when he complains that "don't you think it's kinda misandrist that only women get flowers most of the time"

you think that's a direct jab at you because he does in fact, get you flowers all the time

on your next date you order sunflowers for him

it arrives via delivery and when he opens the door, he kinda smirks

"finally, i'm being appreciated around here" (jokingly)

he places the flowers in the vase you usually use

later on you find out he saved the petals of the sunflower in a ziploc bag

you teach him how to press and dry flowers for preservation

when he sees your collection of dried flowers from all those times he gifted you, he's so touched

looks at you like you're his whole world as you continue to demonstrate how to do it

⠀⠀ jungsu ⠀⠀

jungsu talks about getting plants for his room all the time but never actually does

so you bought him a pretty orchid to place on his windowsill

he loves it and takes care of it really well

he once read that plants have feelings

so he spoke to the orchid every night, pretending like the both of you were its parents

one day you caught him singing to it

"since when did you start giving private concerts to the plant, jungsu?"

"shut up. water your child, it's dying"

and you're just like??? but you do it anyways

taking care of orchids together become your shared hobby

years down the line, jungsu makes sure the flowers at your wedding are orchids

⠀⠀ gaon ⠀⠀

you were on a picnic date at a meadow

gaon made all this effort to set the date up, even making (which you start to suspect that he actually just bought) all the food you were currently eating

you felt kinda bad, as you didn't prepare anything (well to be fair this date was a surprise)

so while he was setting up the picnic basket earlier, you took the liberty to venture

you found a small wildflower bed full of marigolds and daises

you gathered the brightest and prettiest ones, the ones that best resemble gaon

so when you tell him "close your eyes I have a surprise for you"

and he opens them he's genuinely surprised that it's flowers

his heart goes like awwwww

but ngl he thought you were gonna plant a kiss on his lips

"I can do that as well, jiseok"

he got the kisses and the flowers, it's a happy day for him

⠀⠀ o.de ⠀⠀

"are those flowers?"

he stares at the meal your prepared him, edible flowers prettily arranged on top

you spent the whole day cooking for your date and bought edible flowers to decorate the salads

he's in awe because he's never tried it before

neither have you, so you're hoping it tastes okay

when you both sit down and take your first bites

seungmin says "babe is it me or it just tastes like plants"

"i sure hope so, because it is indeed, a plant"

"right".

you both just sorta stare at each other then laugh

he reaches for your hand across the table to bring it to his lips

"thank you for the meal babe, i love it"

he kisses your hand with such sincerity you want to cry

⠀⠀ junhan ⠀⠀

there was an old lady selling the last of her roses for the day by your university

they weren't anything particularly special, but they were individually wrapped so prettily you couldn't resist

she told you they'd wilt soon, so she's giving them at half the price to students

you decided to buy a red rose to give to junhan

as you stopped by his dorms, you found him strumming on his guitar

you jokingly threw the flower at him and said "bravo, encore encore!"

he picks up the flower and puts it in between his lips and bows, going along with the bit

you both laugh at each others' antics

junhan is goofier since you came along

⠀⠀ jooyeon ⠀⠀

jooyeon has received flowers from someone he personally knew in his life exactly 3 times

when he graduated high school, his debut showcase, and his first concert (all came from his parents btw)

so when you visit him in the inkigayo green room with a bouquet of brightly colored carnations he doesn't even think that those are for him

"huh, who gave those to you?"

"it's for you, jooyeon...."

and he's all confused like "what, why?"

and you're also confused as to why he's confused like? "congrats on your comeback and new mini-album?"

jooyeon takes the bouquet and smiles at the message you wrote

"to my favorite rockstar, jooyeon"

every time he made a comeback or released a new single, you would send him different flowers

in return, he places a kiss on your forehead

A/N: when i got this request i knew i just had to use the gaon flower pictures!!

btw to those that don't know, i take requests for other groups including nct, svt, xdh and of course zb1

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

✎ mobile masterlist

✉︎ request

[onceinamillionposter]

Yandere!L&D band headcannons

a/n : i literally just felt silly so I mean why not

Lead Vocalists : Rafayel

Drums: Sylus

Guitarist : Zayne

Guitarist : Xavier

Lead rapper : Caleb

With you as the manager !

Right off the bat, it was hell. You got hired from your last gig because your last managing job didn’t quite work out with a whole money laundering scheme being run behind the scenes and you having no idea, you were broke to say the least.

That was before you got that DM, the old manager of the L&D boys is retiring , and apparently you would be a good fit- although your face was all over the news. You practically jumped to the opportunity, signing your life away as you knew it.

You got situated slowly, being introduced to the members - Caleb and you hit it right off the bat , as well as Xavier and Rafayel but Zayne and Sylus were quite distant.

You learnt about them, Caleb would often pick on the others , Rafayel would be trouble just for the fun of it , Zayne was busy reading books and sketching new designs for the band and Sylus was often talking to two twins? You never pried and he never told. Xavier would always be asleep on the common room couch but would wake up when you were desperate for things done.

You had gotten used to the routine, managing accounts would have Rafayel sitting scrolling on his phone in your office often asking ,”Do your eyes not get tired looking at the screen? Why don’t we just go out!” Often you were able to get him to stop bothering you but sometimes he would drag you out regardless making it a bit too intimate.

When it was spring cleaning day , you and Zayne often bonded in silence, sometimes you asked the him about his interests, learning he’s a fan of medicine and drawing anatomy which garnered your attention so you would discuss about what you knew.

Sylus and you would work out at the gym, turning into a competition sometimes. He would help you box and you would show him pilates which he never (openly) struggled with. Sometimes you guys would go on morning runs - very early runs just so people don’t get the wrong idea.

Caleb, and you would bond over board games - monopoly, uno, hell even chess! Anything to keep the day moving. Also investing in the newest consoles (he has the bank of a billionaire he just wanted to tease) , and surprising you with them became normal. Just dance was an interesting time!

And finally Xavier, you and him watched movies and shows together and it was so fun - for you - often enough Xavier just fell asleep but when he woke up, you would cook together or at least try. He burnt more than cooked but that way okay, cause in the end the cupcakes were edible- sure they weren’t the best but they were consumable (when you look past the dark crust)!

You usually had to help them get things set up, stages, events and outfits. Everytime the tailor came in you figured that you would be sitting in a different room but for some reason or the other, everyone - minus Zayne - found a reason for you to be taking their measurements. Shirtless , might I add.

Rafayel claimed the tailor was incompetent - as if a novice like yourself would be any better , Caleb said that the tailor kept scratching at him - you took a peak at the nails and they were the dullest acrylic’s you had ever seen , Xavier said they made him uncomfortable but they had a squeaky clean record last time you checked and Sylus - ever honest - simply said “I hate them.” (you had to make them sign a non disclosure agreement after all of this)

One way or another you slowly were apart of their daily routines. But then the stranger things came, the weird lack of dating claims, back before you became manager there was tons of women that were accused of being with them but suddenly it was quiet. Too quiet, and then the first leak of you came with you and Sylus in an uncomfortably ,weirdly, intimate position. Slowly the media turned heads, it was strange it had been awhile since they had been in. any romantic spectacles and the media love drama.

Another time was Rafayel holding your hand and you holding his plushies he won at the arcade, him dragging you to the next stand. At the time it was anything but romantic but now it looked like a common date? To say the media blew up was a surprise, you had to practically beg Rafayel to make a video clarifying it was just getting him new stuff for his room.

Again a stupid photo really, Caleb holding your clip board so high you had to get on your tippy toes, it was backstage so you had to guess it was the people backstage who were working that took that awfully blurry photo- a pain it was really.

You and Zayne- to your surprise- also got a photo! Hooray! You took him out to satisfy his sweet tooth, he insisted he couldn’t work without it - (he just wanted you to himself) - maybe it was the setting? It being a kitty cafe but you know what - you still don’t know but it garnered attention , another tweet to the main profile for the boys.

But the worst, Xavier resting his head on your shoulder after a long day at the studio. He was so close, too close for you to even make an excuse at the time. But either way the criticism rolled in,

“L&D boys pass around,” “Manager managing all 5 boys”, “Common whore?” It frustrated you so deeply you wished to quit the job as much as you were payed , deciding it wasn’t worth it. But you didn’t know , they weren’t giving you up like that. Not when they slowly loved you, not yet.

[nothingunrealistic]

prompt 49

49. “Why do you insist on it?”

Dear Evan Hansen,

At the new facility. They took my phone at intake. So much for “tranquility.” I’m typing on my suitemates’ secret iPhone 6. They let me borrow it if I agreed to suck —

“Really?”

“What?” Jared pouts. It might work better if it wasn’t over FaceTime, on Evan’s secondhand iPhone, propped up against his thirdhand laptop. “I was going to say ‘suck eggs for their grandmas.’”

“No, you weren’t.”

“Whatever.”

Hey, before I go, I wanted to know: did you check with Jared Kalwani — the genius sound tech Jared Kalwani — to see if he can hang out? ‘Cause I have no doubt he’d be a great friend to me too —

“Okay, no, Jared.” Evan hits Ctrl-A and deletes the half-written email. “That doesn’t work.”

“That was a literary masterpiece. How does it not work?”

“Well, the rehab stuff is, it’s too depressing.”

“Yeah. It’s rehab.”

“The Murphys won’t want to read it. And you can’t keep trying to write yourself in. This is, like, the third time.”

“Why do you insist on it being all shiny happy codependency? Your friendship was so special and perfect that he didn’t even want to talk to anyone else?”

“Yes. That’s the story. We were best friends. I was his only friend.” Evan scratches his left arm, no longer broadcasting the best possible proof of that story. “You can’t just change it.”

“Uh-huh.” Jared’s eyes move over him, and Evan can tell he saw the scratching. “You do remember how this story ends, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Evan,” Jared says. “Dude. Connor’s dead. And it’s not because his life was going great. Everyone knows that.”

“So?”

“So people will expect to read the tormented musings of a guy in a downward spiral. Not rainbows and butterflies and tree facts to the very end. Maybe they haven’t thought of it yet, but they’ll get there.”

“That’s awful.”

“That’s the human condition. Rubbernecking and being glad it’s not you.”

“Just because you decided to put the emails online —”

“Because Alana told me to, after you begged me to run the Connor Project website —”

“It’s not that simple, okay? Things are messy and complicated, it’s, recovery is nonlinear —”

“Oh, good, someone’s reading the Mental Health Resources page after all. And here I told our glorious co-founder it was a waste of server space.”

“I just want to help the Murphys,” Evan says. That’s all he’s wanted to do, from the moment Mrs. Murphy first mentioned the orchard. It has to be. “That’s the point of all this. I don’t care what people online think.”

“You mean the people giving you all that money to build an orchard for Connor? You’re sure you don’t care what they think? Only about cheering up your fake family and your very real girlfriend?”

“I told you, we’re not — Zoe and I are just friends.”

“Totally. You’ve got a lot of friends these days.”

“Yeah,” Evan says. “It’s pretty nice. You should try it.”

Jared vanishes from the call, and Evan is left staring at the empty Google Doc on his laptop and his own reflection in his phone screen. Alone.

Until Zoe’s texts come in.

Larry is making dinner tonight

His cooking is actually edible

That sounds great

Not that I don’t like your mom’s cooking, but you know

Yeah, I know

See you soon

(prompts to write drabbles or longer stories)

[seiya234]

i can't believe this is a series now any way thanks @dril-cipher for making me write about the meow meow and @marypsue for creating the meow meow

----

Ian looked around.

The colors of the landscape that surrounded him were unbelievably vivid, unlike anything he had ever seen before. There was a single, perfectly asymmetrical hill of rolling green grass, underneath a perfectly blue sky, with just enough clouds to produce interesting shadows on the ground below.

He turned around in every direction and yet he was always staring at the same hill, the same sky, the same unmoving clouds.

It was very disconcerting and Ian was enjoying it immensely.

Next to him, Henry was intently studying the world around him.

"You realize there's still inherent meaning in this, right?"

"Oh fuck off," Ian muttered, but his heart wasn't in it.

This Henry was... older than he had ever seen before, hair shot with grey, and antlers filled with fruit both edible and... not. He was still in all black, still barefoot, but now he had on a faded blue flannel shirt on top of it all.

And he burned. Not literally, no, but Ian could feel the heat radiating off of Henry from several feet away.

"You're... different this time," Ian said, awkwardly.

(what did Henry see of him? here in the Mindscape? Ian wanted to know. Ian did not want to know.)

"I think this me is... about sixty or so? Ish. I have... had grandkids at this point."

"And this you has rediscovered the joy of colors and patterns?"

"I can't really say anything about that- I'm wearing sweatpants and one of Hank's college shirts myself. However, I have relaxed a bit, if I don't say so myself."

Ian looked at Henry's antlers again. Some of the hands were dripping with fresh blood.

Relaxed. Sure.

Without warning, the landscape around them changed. Now they were in what looked like a maze of brick walls... though the brick was unlike any he had ever seen before- oversized and blood red and granular in a way that textures were not like in real life. The ceiling was those weird, industrial white soundproof tiles and the ground was brown... static.

Oh, and there was a floating, semitransparent rectangle that read 'start' but Ian's brain was still stuck on the floor, so he and Henry walked through it without a thought.

"Which way?" Henry asked.

"Hand on the wall, start going right," Ian automatically said. This was kind of his wheelhouse.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, and while it wasn't exactly companionable, neither was it awkward.

"What troubles your mind this time?" Henry finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Why does something have to be wrong?" Ian retorted, but he was being contrary and he knew it.

"Because you drew me here to talk."

Ian scowled. His sub-subconscious was such a traitor.

They turned right, then right again. Ian opened his mouth, then closed it again, for once unsure how to start, what to say.

Sheesh. If he wasn't the smart guy, then who was he, really?

"It took me awhile, to learn how to let go," Henry finally offered, breaking the ice.

"Of what? Your murderous impulses?" Ian snarled, and not just because he was wiping off some blood that had dripped from the antlers onto his hand.

"I used to fear the beast inside of me," Henry went on, adroitly ignoring the snark. "It was useful, but there was so much I didn't know about him. He was... unplanned, the first unplanned thing in my life since I had met my wife." Henry paused. "Though it should go without saying that my wife was a beautiful blessing and there should be no negative connotations attached to that comparison."

"You know, for a guy talking to me about letting go of control, you're still doing a whole lot of explaining."

Henry's lips tightened, but he went on.

"It is still something I am working on, but I have learned that while there are many things that I can control, there are some I cannot, and that's okay."

"Alright, but what if it's not?"

"We can't know that for certain."

Ian snorted. "We have had prophetic dreams for millennia now."

"And seers aren't seeing everything, everywhere, all at once. My point remains the same."

They reached the end of the maze, a doorway into a black void that both instantly stepped into. For a second there was nothing then-

"Are... are those tubes?" Henry finally asked.

'I think they're more like pipes."

"I don't remember pipes coming in every color of the rainbow." Henry paused. "Or being able to move like that," he finished weakly.

Ian looked over and it was a good thing that this was a dream and that Henry was dead and no longer had things like a stomach or an endocrine system because he very much looked like a man who wanted to barf.

Personally, Ian found the tubes to be realxing to watch. It felt like his brain was turning off which was... nice.

They watched for a bit.

"Lydia is a month old now."

Henry smiled. "Congratulations. How is fatherhood treating you?"

"I was not prepared for the amount of efflua a small human could make but otherwise things are well."

"Well."

Ian watched as a purple tube and a red tube gently snaked around each other in an intricate dance.

"I... I spend a lot of time looking at her. She's easy, right now. I mean, she's destroying our mental health through sleep deprivation and sonic warfare, but like, I knew to expect that, she's a baby. She... she makes sense, right now.

The red tube turned into a yellow one. "Right now, she's safe because she can't do anything. But what happens when she starts crawling? Talking? Meeting people?"

"You can't control that-"

"Yeah, no shit I can't! I look at Lydia, and all I can think about is all the ways she can die, all the ways I can fail her or do the wrong thing and what if she learns to drive and then crashes on the way to school, or gets addicted to something or-"

Ian ran his fingers through his hair. "She's... she's everything to me. She makes me want to be better, to do better."

"And not Mira?" but there wasn't criticism in that question, more leading-

"Nah. I strive to be better for her too... but Mira is... I know she can take care of her self, I know-"

that Mira would be just fine if Ian went, but a world without Mira in it was

no

no dont

"Mira is an adult," Ian finished lamely.

"Fair enough. It's always different, with kids."

"Does it ever go away?"

"It doesn't. And it does. The days are long, but the years are short."

Ian felt his face pickle, and Henry clapped him on the shoulder.

"Apologies, I'm not trying to be condescending. The fear is always there. But it gets outweighed by the joy of watching them grow, and the minutia of day to day life. Also respectfully, you are deeply sleep deprived right now."

"Okay, but that still doesn't ease the overwhelming existential dread I feel looking at my child and imagining every single way she could die."

"Friend, you could die at any moment yourself- of a collision, of a blood vessel popping, of god knows what. You can run on for a long time, but sooner or later, God will cut you down."

"That is ridiculously folksy."

"Please don't change the subject. What makes you different from Lydia?"

"Because I can control myself! It's different when it's me! I can't control Lydia. I can't control her, I can't plan for her, she's not my PUPPET-"

Ian paused. "I cant control her. And it feels like I can't control myself. And you tell me that I need to relax? To relinquish even more control? When I have him inside of me."

Henry opened his mouth- then paused.

"My apologies, this may be a 'shock'"

Then, before Ian could react, Henry plunged his hand deep inside Ian's chest. For the briefest second it felt... it felt... it felt like his soul was tearing into two-

(was this what it felt like for Paloma for Henry for in between when a demon lifted them to his lips and BIT)

-and just as quickly the sensation was gone and Henry was pulling his hand out of Ian's chest, along with

"Oh. You."

"He was camping at the surface of your consciousness, normally he lies dormant," Henry explained with an apologetic tone.

Around them the room had changed once again. The floor was now a black and white zig-zag patter, and all around the walls were now hung with blood red curtains.

Ian was sitting in a comfortable black love seat next to Henry who also had a comfortable black love seat and next to him was

"Seriously, what are you doing here?"

"DREAM DEMON PAL- I DO WHAT I WANT."

"Yeah, I know, it's deeply annoying. Doesn't answer my question. You're dead."

"DEAD DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING HERE. JUST ASK ANTLERS OVER THERE."

Bill leaned in to whisper in Ian's ear. "HE SHOULDN'T BE HERE EITHER, BUT THOSE DEMON GERMS, THEY HAVE A HABIT OF STICKING. AND SPREADING."

Ian looked at Henry, legs crossed and sitting statue still. He could smell the iron tang of blood from his antlers.

"Yeah, I can see that. Why are you here this time?"

"OL' AXEY HERE HAS BEEN POPPING UP MORE AND MORE. P-R-E-TT-Y IMPRESSIVE FOR A MAN WHOSE SOUL IS GETTING DIGESTED."

"So you're going to..what? Evil plan him? Though I can't even imagine how or why?"

"WHY? YOU SHOULD TAKE A BITE OF THIS GUY YOURSELF, YOU'D REALLY GO FAR!"

Henry wasn't saying or doing anything- why not? For that matter, it made no sense for Bill to be here, not really.

(it really was Bill. That Ian knew, just as he knew that Henry was real, that this dream was real, that if he opened his eye lid to look at both of them he would See-)

Ian blinked. Bill had continued monologing, probably very impressed by how clever and witty he was. But there was no reason for Bill to be here. Bill didn't know why he was here, not really.

But Ian did.

Casually, Ian leaned over, and grabbed Bill by the hand.

"HEY WATCH THE LIMBS, THEY'RE FRESHLY CREATED FROM THE ETHER-"

Ian stood up, and like he was pitching a baseball, began to swing Bill around.

"HEY, YOU CAN'T DO THIS-"

"But I can," Ian muttered under his breath. He twirled and threw Bill as hard as he could at the ceiling.

"A-X-"

"-bsolutely not, not for something this petty and stupid," Ian snapped.

Bill disappeared, along with his little edgelord room. In its place was a black expanse, with floating squares that had smaller squares in them, almost like windows, but they were all different colors and just... floating.

That being settled, Ian whirled around to face Henry.

"What. The fuck. Was that?"

Henry shrugged. "Some lessons work better being shown, not told."

"I... Stars, I am not a child. I cannot even begin to tell you how incredibly dangerous that was." Ian paused. "And fucked up! Super, super fucked up!"

"You needed to know you could do that. You're... I think the phrase is 'in your own head too much'? At least I think that's what Willow would have said."

"That's... okay, fair. I get in my own way more often than not." Ian hufed out a breath. "Cool. My control issues have magically been solved by throwing a tortilla chip from my brain. Whoo-hoo."

Henry frowned. "Why the sarcasm?"

He didn't get it? Seriously?

Ian pinched his nose, and felt his eye burn. "You're trying to... I guess talk me off the ledge? I'm still not entirely sure why you brought Bill out- for once I wasn't worried about him and it was nice! You want to know why I freak out about things beyond my control? Maybe because the last few years have been an absolute convocade or people ignoring my boundaries over and over AND OVER again."

The squares all flashed yellow for a second. "Every time it feels like things are getting back to normal, my feet are swept out from under me all over again. How can I plan for anything, how can-"

how could he feel safe, ever, truly?

The blood drained from Henry's face, leaving it bone white. Unceremoniously, he thunked to the ground, sitting down hard on the void.

(the tips of his antlers were still at the height of Ian's eyes)

His mouth opened once, twice, apologies clearly dying on his lips.

Finally, Henry managed to croak out, "I... remember. What it was like to feel... small. To be small. It's not a good feeling. I tried to not think about it. To not talk about it. Ever. And then Dipper happened to me and-" Henry waved a hand at his antlers. "All of this happened."

"Was it your choice?"

Henry nodded. "It was the only way I could save my daughter. But there were unforseen consequences."

Ian just looked at Henry. That was the understatement of the millennium.

"I guess what I am trying to say is that... I forget, that I am not small any more. That I have power, power over others. And tonight I exercised it in a way that was absolutely inexcusable."

oh.

okay.

"And did you get mad at Dipper? For what he did to you?"

Where did that question come from? Almost like there was another beat in this story that needed to get spelled out and okay that was uncomfortably too meta, even for Ian.

Henry looked perplexed. "No, never."

"Wait, seriously?"

"I asked for it-"

"Oh I do NOT like that turn of phrase-"

"-and as a youngish demon, he had no idea of what would actually happen. I don't think he still knows, actually."

"When did you die?"

"In my 80s."

"And," Ian followed his gut, "when did your wife die?"

"149."

"So. You get turned into a weird monster thing that irrevocably changed the shape of your soul and caused your early death and you aren't mad about that? Even in the slightest?"

While it was still inexcusable, this did explain some of Henry's actions tonight.

Henry said nothing.

Henry was focusing on his breathing.

Finally, he gritted out, "It. wasn't. his. fault."

"It still hurt you though."

Henry nodded.

"And... you're allowed to be mad. You can understand and you can still be pissed, that... that's allowed. Stars did you really not go to therapy when you were alive? Because uh, big yikes."

Henry was still silent. Still still. Finally, he managed "I don't... I can't get mad. I can't allow myself to be mad."

"Respectfully, what's the worse that can happen? Because the worse has already happened to you. Maybe get mad, as a treat?"

"I... oh."

Even after decades of therapy, Ian was still fucked up. He probably always would be fucked up. But he could at least articulate his feelings and knew what he had to work on and yikes yikes yikes.

Henry shook his head and looked at Ian. "My apologies remain, but I know that an apology is meaningless without action. How can I best make amends?"

Ian thought about it for a minute.

"I don't want to see you-" he almost said 'never again' but... but that wasn't entirely true.

"-for a while. Maybe a long while. If I need you, I'll call."

Henry nodded. "And if I show up before then, you know how to kick me out."

"No, I don't?"

Henry grabbed Ian's hand. "Yes. You do. You can."

Oh. Oh.

Standing up, he swung Henry around with one hand- how? this man was literally the size of a moose- and begun to turn, swinging Henry faster and faster and Ian was laughing, laughing and crying and it felt like relief as he pitched Henry through one of the floating windows and out out OUT-

---

Ian showed up to his next therapy appointment with the largest box of chocolates that he and Mira were able to find at the store.

"What's this for?" Dr. Alexis asked.

Ian smiled. "Just a thank you."

[lexxspark]

Greened Out

Clapton Davis x reader

Overall gn!reader gender isn’t really specified here :3 lmk if I missed anything though!

A/N : hey guys thanks for reading! First fic since the damn renaissance (2015) this is also heavily inspired by Tednivisions story time about when he ate a 400 milligrams nerds rope💀

‼️mentions of the use of pot and smoking

Not proofread🙌🏻 wrote this this morning I think a ghost whispered this concept in my ear while I was sleeping.

A good night’s sleep. You’d think that’d be easier when you’re home alone but associating with Clapton Davis? Yeah idk about that. You were in the middle of drifting to sleep, wearing just some shorts and a band T-shirt you haphazardly grabbed last minute as something to sleep in, when you hear knocking at your window.

Normally this would be reason for panic, but when you look over to see a boy in a bright blue t-shirt, sunglasses dispute it being 11pm, you only sighed and walked over to the window to open it.

“Clapton what the fuck are you doing?”

“Listen, listen y/n okay? I’m-“ He paused and kindof stumbled a bit literally and over his words, but began again, “I need help ion- I don’t feel right.”

Then he gave you those eyes. Those stupid pleading puppy eyes.

You opened the window more to allow him to climb into your room. He did but almost fell flat on his face after his foot god caught in the window pane. He stumbled but fixed himself, standing straight and looking at you.

“What did you take Davis?” There was concern in your voice as you knew Clapton well and he didn’t do anything hard ever, nothing other than the occasional pot with his friends.

“Y/n im telling you all I took was an edible I don’t know what’s going on I’m like- I’m like aching every-time I touch something I can still feel it after and, and it feels like the room is spinning. It just I don’t feel right I think I was laced im telling you.” He said that last sentence while weakly pointing at the window, presumably at his friends.

“How many milligrams was it?” You asked, a very slight chuckle in your voice as you highly doubt someone had the brains to make a laced edible in the entire city of Grizzly Lake.

“Milligrams? Uhh what are those?” He furrowed his brows and squeezed his eyes shut making it look like he was really trying to remember what milligrams are.

“Oh my god.” You said under your breath as you walked over to Clapton and checked his pockets for the wrapper to his edible and to your surprise, you found a nerds rope wrapper crumpled up in his left shorts pocket.

“Wooah y/n” Clapton chuckled between his words, “Take me out before you get so handsy like that huh?” He gave you that big smile that may have made you blush, but your room was too dark to notice so you rolled your eyes instead.

“Relax Clapton, go sit down before you collapse on my floor okay?” You pointed to your bed as you started examining the wrapper.

“Yes ma’am.” Clapton said pouting and shuffling to your bed and plopping down at the foot of it, across from where you were standing.

That made you smile, the pout in his voice and the ma’am, he was such a sweetheart. However you and Clapton were on borderline opposite social circles. You only had a couple close friends where as Clapton was friends with practically everyone in town. Of course except for law enforcement. You liked him, of course you did. But everyone liked him and you just kind of figured that one of these days he’d meet someone cute and bubbly just as he is and forget about you. You were, however in your stubborn sarcasm, completely oblivious to Clapton’s shared fear. He thought that someday you would find some mature, older, more smart man to take care of you and forget all about him. So in return he followed you like a puppy everywhere, ensuring that you never would.

“Oh my fucking god Clapton.” Your eyes widened at the package.

“What? What’s wrong? Is it coke? Uh uhh what’s the one called? Oh my god Is it a Perc?” He was genuinely scared that he just took a Percocet nerds rope.

“No it’s still just weed but it’s 400 milligrams of it. Jesus Christ, Clapton it says ‘meant to be shared’ right on the package.” You pointed at it and handed it to him to read, all he did was squint you knew he didn’t even try to read anything on the package.

“Wow 400? That’s a lot. That’s prolly not a good thing is it?” He shook his head as he looked up at you, your brows furrowed with concern as u looked down at him.

“No, no it’s not.” Your eyes softened and shoulders dropped as you remembered he was still incredibly high and you were his only sober friend right now. “Have you eaten? Had water?”

“I ate an entire bag of family sized Cheeto Puffs, andd I also had a coke.” He smiled.

You tried your best to ignore his smile, “Okay well you need water, you definitely need water.” You walked over to your nightstand, Clapton’s eyes following your every move. You handed him the glass of water and he took a sip, realized how much he needed water, and proceeded to drink the entire thing.

“Jeez y/n do you have the air on blast in here? It’s like 40 degrees dude.”

“No, no you’re just cold, weed chills Clapton. Here.” You put the blanket around his shoulders and you saw him relax a bit into the blanket, still shivering though. This didn’t last however when he crawled up to where you were peacefully sleeping earlier and curled up into your pillows.

“Really?” You walked over to him and sat on the edge of the bed next to him, looking at him at first with annoyance, but then it caved as soon as you saw how cute he looked in your bed, looking up at you. You sighed in defeat, looking at the calendar on your door, and then back at Clapton. Your parents were away for the weekend, some thanksgiving thing with friends so you had the entire house to yourself for a while.

Clapton’s eyes never left yours and in your head you swore they would be your downfall. “Alright, Alright fine. You can take my bed I’ll just crash on the couch.” You smiled at him, breaking eye contact as you grabbed a spare pillow and started to turn to walk out of your room.

This made Clapton’s stomach drop. “No, nono, please.” He grabbed on your wrist, softly in a pleading hold, like if he let go he’d vanish into dust. “Please stay with me. I really don’t want to be alone like this.” There was genuine concern in his voice almost anxiety.

He gave you those stupid eyes again.

Before you could even realize what was going on you got into bed with him and laid down, Clapton Davis laying in your bed agonizingly close to you. However you could still feel him shivering. He studied your face, his expression never changing as he looked at your eyes. God he loved your eyes.

You looked back at him and gave him a soft look, looked up at the ceiling, and opened your arm so he could lay on your chest. He didn’t waste a second curling up to you. You felt your heart race and Clapton’s shivering subside. Part of you wondered if he was even still shivering or if he was faking it to get you to hold him, you didn’t really care either way.

Your hand found its way to Clapton’s hair, playing with it in a soothing way to get him to sleep off the edible for two he just took. Chances are he’ll wake up high in the morning. But that was a problem for tomorrow.

“Holyy fuck.” Clapton melted into your arms as u played with his hair almost whining at the contact.

“You okay Davis?”

“Yes, yes m fine just that feels really fucking good Jesus Christ don’t stop.” He whispered and mumbled at the same time, you felt his hands rub on your back and bunch up your shirt as someone to grab and hold on to.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You smiled as you felt him calm, soon the shivering stopped. You and him lay in comfortable silence for a few moments until Clapton breaks it.

“Have I told you how beautiful I think you are?”

This caught you by surprise, all you could get out were a few “umms” before he started again, “You really are you know? You’re so smart and you’re funny. You deal with me and my stupid jokes. You’re just, you’re just you. And I really love that.”

He pulled away to look at you, meeting your eyes. You had no idea what to say to that. Even with him in your bed, you never thought that anything like that would come out of his mouth ever.

You paused, trying to come up with something to say, usually you’d have something smart or snarky to say but your entire mind blanked. All you could think about was him.

Even the 400mgs of marijuana in Clapton’s body couldn’t stop him from being cocky.

“Are you gonna let me kiss you orr?” He smiled again and you rolled your eyes opening your mouth to say something but he placed his hand on your cheek and kissed you before you could say anything else. You both sank into the kiss as it melted away years of anxiety that both of you had built up over each other.

As you pulled away his arms held you closer and he sank back into the crook of your neck leaving little peppered kissed on your collarbone.

“You don’t know how long I was waiting for you to do that.” You finally said, smiling while returning your hand back to his hair.

“You don’t know how long I was waiting for you to do that.” He laughed and you rolled your eyes again but smiled, kissing his hair. “Can I, can I be your boyfriend? You don’t know how much I care about you and I just- I want to be here for you always. Take care of you like you always do for me.” He mumbled that last sentence, thinking about tonight when you didn’t even hesitate to open your door, or window, and take care of him when he needed you. When you stayed without hesitation when he pleaded with you not to go. He wanted to treat you and show you how much he cared.

You wanted to say yes but you remembered he was high. A sudden fear flashed over you that he would wake up in the morning and not remember anything from tonight. You faltered when you said, “Clapton you’re high, are you sure you really mean that?” Fear of this all being an elaborate prank came across you, no way this was real.

It was like he could read your mind, that’s kind of how it’s always been. “I’m serious y/n. High words are sober thoughts right? If I wasn’t high I would never have the courage to ask you, or even tell you anything I just did. I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”

You sighed in relief, holding him closer.

“Let me be here for you like you are for me?” He pulled away so he could look you in the eyes, have gave you that pleading look again. “Please?”

You nodded and said, “Okay Clapton.” In such a whisper you weren’t sure he heard you, either way he kissed you again, this time you holding his face and running your hand through his hair. He loved it. He loved you. And you truthfully loved him. But you both on your own decided that a kiss was enough for the night and you were going to save the I love you’s for when Clapton’s sober.

He fell back into the crook for your neck and soon the both of you fell asleep like that. Finally getting a good nights sleep with each other in your arms.

A/N: congrats on reading my first tumblr posted fic!! might write a smut alt ended to this if it does good who knowwws:3

[apprenticestanheight]

Halloween- Adam Stanheight x gn! reader

ALLLL RIGHT!! It is officially Halloween and I, as a lover of Halloween, needed to celebrate it. Could I have gone down a spooky route? yes, yes I could've indeed. Did I choose to go down one that involves getting high and slow dancing instead? Yes, yes I did indeed.

My requests also close soon but they'll probably reopen around the middle of next month--I might have a holiday event in the works, I have no idea yet but either way holiday themed reqs are encouraged and accepted around just about any holiday lol

Fic type- this is super fluffy!

Warnings- there are mentions of weed in the context of an edible that Adam and the reader split, mentions of the bathroom trap (all of my fics that weren't requested are post-bathroom trap because it's how I delude myself into believing Adam survived lol) and scott tibbs is a bad friend (it's only mentioned, but he calls the traumatic event known as the bathroom trap 'metal' when he visits adam because, while I haven't watched the scott tibbs doc, given that I've read the wiki it feels like something scott would do)

For Adam, Halloween had pretty much stopped being a huge deal when he stopped trick-or-treating with the coming of high school. From then on, November first was his ticket--all of the Halloween candy was marked down so that it could be rid from the shelves and allow for the Christmas stock to come in.

Adam would take some of the money he got from being a PI and blow it on variety packs so that he had something more than microwaveable popcorn to snack on whenever he chose to sit down and watch a movie, and also because most of it was pretty delicious and he'd be lying if he said he didn't have a slight sweet tooth in October.

Halloween had never really been special. Even after the bathroom trap, his first Halloween after the experience and after a solid week spent in the hospitals recovery unit, it still wasn't.

Well--that was, of course, until you showed up at his apartment with a grin, a bottle of american whiskey, some food for when you inevitably got the munchies and an edible for the two of you to split.

The two of you split the edible and took it while sitting on the couch, your ear against Adams chest to hear the way that his heart kept on beating and his arm around your shoulders, hand idly moving through your hair in a manner that was almost enough to make you tired.

Adam felt it when the edible hit and it was clear you did, too. It always made you both relaxed--Adam liked it after the trap not for the act of getting high but because it soothed his anxieties. Such made him crack the joke that he liked it for it's medicinal purposes from time to time, but Adam wasn't thinking about how chilled out he was, or even about the fact that it had been a few weeks since the bathroom trap and he'd turned out okay-ish in the aftermath.

No, he was thinking about you. And, as you typically did, you were thinking about him.

You'd been Adams rock almost as long as Scott had, and even then he'd stopped talking to Scott after he'd left the hospital--he'd visited twice and both times, instead of acknowledging the sensitivity of the situation, told Adam that it was 'metal' that he'd survived his trap--but you'd stuck around.

Your relationship had been the classic childhood friends to lovers--met in the second grade, started dating the year before Adam dropped out of high school, and there you were at twenty-six, together for a solid eleven years and, before Adams trap, at the point where Adam was boxing up his stuff to move into your place while debating proposing.

He grin as you adjust yourself, meeting your gaze as you grin back at him.

"Hi," he greets.

"I love you," you blurt with a laugh. "I mean--yeah. I do. It's not just the weed, I promise."

Adam laughs a little, pressing a peck to your lips. "I wanna dance," he said. "Not--not a jig. Never a jig or anything very fast--nothing too speedy. Just wanna slow dance, you know?"

You press your nose against his, one hand sliding up his chest to cup the back of his head.

"There's no music," you say. "We can't dance if there's no music, Adam."

"Oh, but we can," Adam stands, offers you his hand. "I happen to have a walkman from our high school days with a cheesy mixtape I made you, and I also have one that's just the songs we used to slow dance to before dear old dad kicked me out. We're high, and we're going to dance because this is the only time we'll have to do so before we get the munchies and blow through the snacks you bought within an hour."

You laugh a little, sighing to yourself as Adam leaves you standing in the middle of his living room while he sprints to his room.

Two minutes pass, and he returns, Walkman and a pair of wired earbuds in hand.

He puts in a tape, pockets the walkman and offers you one of the earbuds with a crooked, handsome smile.

"May I have this dance?"

"I fell in love with an idiot," you accept the earbud, though, taking Adams hand and intwining your fingers as you do. "No regrets, though."

"You'd be a fool to have regrets, my darling," Adam says, putting on a tone of grandeur. "I am the best of the best in my apartment that is more likely than not infested by roaches, and with a job that barely lets me afford groceries unless I buy them from cheap corner stores and shop the bargains in the produce aisle of every Aldi in Jersey."

You laugh, and Adams arm goes around your waist while one of yours finds his shoulder. You drop his hand, letting yourself wrap him in a hug as the two of you begin to sway.

Silence befalls the two of you. It's the kind of silence you both appreciate, the kind wherein there is no awkwardness, only comfort. You love him, and he loves you, and realistically in that moment, that is the only thing that matters to either of you.

Adams eyes fall closed, and he hugs you just a bit tighter. You respond by doing the same, and your dance becomes less of a dance--it's more or less just two people hugging now, swaying along to the sound of the music that thrums through the Walkman and into their ears.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispers. "I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, but falling in love with you hasn't been one of them. Thank you for letting me do that."

You laugh slightly. Adam fights the urge to kiss you while he basks in how it sounds.

"I love you too," you respond. "Loving you is the best thing I have ever done, Adam. No regrets."

Adam laughs that time, pulling away enough to press a kiss to your forehead.

It is Adam Stanheights first Halloween post bathroom trap, and he starts to think, for the first time since he was fifteen, that Halloween is not a day to be spent at home, watching bad horror movies from the 70s. Maybe it's a day to get high with the love of his life, slow dance for a few songs, and then help you eat your way through the snacks you've brought along once the munchies kick in.

Either way--however Halloween is meant to be spent, Adam likes that he gets to spend it with you.

[salchat]

Fixer-upper

“Joke’s on you, pipsqueak," said Bobby.  "It’s summer break.”

The kid’s swimmy eyes blinked.  He sniffed.  “What?”

“There ain’t no school to go to right now.”

“Oh.”

“Summer break’s for running about and playing games and such.  Didn’t your brother tell you that?”

Sammy just looked up at him solemnly.  His droopy little mouth drooped a bit further.

“I guess not,” said Bobby, softly.  He ruffled the little boy’s hair.  “Dean’s not saying much about anything at the moment, is he?”

“No, Uncle Bobby,” muttered Sammy.

“Don’t suppose you know what that’s about, do you?”

The mop of hair shook.  The sneakers ground into the dry dirt, one toe and then the other.  “Dad took Dean somewhere at night.  I woke up when they came back and Dad had hurt his arm and Dean was all white like he was sick and he wouldn’t talk to me.”

“And he hasn’t said anything since?”

“No, Uncle Bobby.”

"Okay."  Across the yard, the older boy hadn’t moved, his body hunched over, his hands dangling limply between his bent-up legs.  He wasn’t right, that was for sure.

The night before, Bobby had been at the tail end of a bottle, drifting down into the usual heap of crap that went on in his head if he let it.  Then from outside, there’d come the rumble of a familiar engine and the creak and slam of car doors followed by a hammering fit to raise the dead, or at least to sober up a maudlin-drunk Bobby.

"I need a few days," John Winchester had growled.

Bobby couldn't remember what reply he’d made, if any.  The boys had been pushed in through the door, Sammy first, yawning and trailing a blanket, then Dean, carrying the bags, saying nothing.

John hadn’t stayed to see the boys settled.  Hadn’t even shut off the Impala's engine, in fact.  Just mumbled something which might have been thanks - but probably wasn't - and then off he went, wheels kicking up the dust behind him.

It hadn’t been the first time they’d been dumped like that.  The boys had sorted themselves out with minimal input from Bobby, taking over the dusty spare room, falling into the twin beds with mismatched bedspreads.

In the morning, he’d been expecting two whirlwinds to blow through the house, emptying the fridge of anything remotely edible before disappearing into the yard to find out what was new and find themselves as much trouble as they could.  And Sammy was much the same as usual, chattering away and jumping about like he couldn’t keep still.  But Dean was silent and blank - eating if Bobby told him to eat, helping with the chores if Bobby told him to, but doing nothing off his own bat - nothing apart from watching his brother, following him around like a silent shadow, like a ghost that had given itself one task and was going to stick to it forever.

What the hell had that Goddamn fool Winchester done to his oldest son?

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[wuahae]

hey cat!! i've been good~ i binged all the chapters of the spyxfamily manga in a day and it was wonderful 😌 i would love to see hoshi + meeting for the first time in college! shy hoshi meeting strangers 🤭 hope you've been well too!! sending lots of love~ -prom anon

I LOVE SPY X FAMILY....i haven't read it in a really long time but i'm waiting for my animanga phase to come back before i catch up to it again haha

hoshi + meet cute

soonyoung thinks he's been sitting on this couch for an hour. or maybe it's only been half an hour. or... he knits his brows. to be honest, he really doesn't know. time passes strangely when he's drunk.

he knows a few things though—they've played at least three more rounds of beer pong since he first sat down on this couch, the cheap frozen pizza mingyu barely managed to make edible has started to taste less like cardboard the more drinks soonyoung's gotten in him, and he knows if he gets up to pee he might not make it out of that bathroom in one piece. or at all.

there's a loud cheer as joshua and vernon win another round of beer pong on the table behind him, a dip in the couch as someone sits next to him.

"hey, you okay?" a cold water bottle pressed to his cheek. a slow blink and turn of the head.

oh, here's another thing soonyoung is certain about. the person that just sat down next to him is really, really, really cute.

“uh.”

“soonyoung, right?”

"...uh huh."

"great!" you give him a cheery smile, handing him the water bottle. "jihoon said to give this to you. said you'd need it."

"thanks," soonyoung responds, just a little dumbly. you are just so cute. he can't feel his face.

“so you’re jun’s friend?” you ask, taking a chip from the big bag on the coffee table. “from college?”

soonyoung nods, sipping on the water. “we took psych 211 together freshman year.”

“the sex class?”

“yup!” as loose-lipped as he is, soonyoung is not about to admit he almost failed psych 211: diversity of human sexuality. “best easy A ever.”

“but i don’t think i’ve seen you here before?” soonyoung asks. he might be an absolute mess drunk, but he doesn’t think he could have missed you if you were at one of these parties earlier this year.

you nod enthusiastically. "i don't go here, actually!"

"oh really?"

"yeah!" your flannel slips a little from your shoulder as you reach for another chip. your knee brushes against his. soonyoung's pretty sure his mouth is gaping. "we're actually friends from high school," you explain, eyes bright and wide from what he hopes is the alcohol. he really hopes he isn't making a fool of himself to someone completely sober.

and under normal circumstances, soonyoung would ask for how long? does that mean you were friends with jihoon and wonwoo since high school too? not to mention the dirt he'd try to fish out of you regarding the three to use later.

but right now, soonyoung is still recovering from the three lost rounds of rage cage, his tongue can't seem to work right with the blur in his head and the ringing in his ears and fuck, he wants to make a cool first impression on you and maybe show off that he's a key part of the university dance team but all he can really think of is how he still really, really needs to pee.

"cool," he utters, more than a little dumbly this time.

your eyes crinkle as you laugh a little, leaning over. "you're cute, soonyoung. talk to me later when you're more sober, okay?"

soonyoung blinks. what?

someone—he thinks it's jun, that damn cockblock—calls your name and announces a declaration of war against the new reigning champions of beer pong.

"oh look at that," you tease lightly. "duty calls." nudging soonyoung before you get up, you gesture vaguely at him. "can i have a sip, by the way?"

soonyoung nods before he even follows your gaze to see what you're gesturing to, but before he realizes it, you take the water in his hands and screw open the cap, tipping back the bottle to drink.

"thanks! see you later!" you say cheerily, handing it back to him before turning around to join jun in defeating seungcheol and jeonghan (who is most definitely cheating).

and between the increasingly raucous noise of the new beer pong game starting up and the pounding in his head that threatens to send soonyoung into the bathroom to do more than just pee, he has a single, striking thought.

holy shit... soonyoung is definitely in love.

[ratstuckinamarble]

Since it rained here yesterday, it was the perfect day to find some mushrooms! I took some pictures that I'm pretty happy with so I thought I'd share. Buckle up!

My first find, a parasol mushroom! These are actually edible (said to taste a bit like nuts), you could fry them with an egg, but I don't eat mushrooms so I let it be. It was a bit small for its kind anyways, but very cute with its frilly edges.(Parasolpilz)

This is most likely a rosy bonnet because of that lighter colouring at the top, not edible. But quite the stunner with that pink! (Rosa Rettichhelmling)

I'd say that's a fairy ring mushroom (edible), since the hat looks slimy and flattens out towards the edges. The lamellae are noticeably lighter than the hat. This one was such a model! Look at how that light is shining through. (Nelken-Schwindling)

These were such an awesome find, look at that cluster! Looks like some young sulphur tufts/clustered woodlovers. Poisonous! The hats start out more round, and flatten out with age. The surface is usually smooth, which you can see isn't the case here. Most likely velum fibers! These can be covered by them. (Grünblätter Schwefelkopf)

This one had me stumped. It miight be a funeral bell/deadly skullcap (it's in the name!!! Deadly do not eat!!). I don't really think that's the one though. The lamellae form this bowl shape before connecting to the stem, which isn't characteristic for them, and lacks a ring. Those can disappear when they're older though. So yeah, I'm really not sure. The fuzz at the base of the stem is likely to just be extra mycelium, since it's been pretty humid here. (Gift Häubling)

I really struggle with identifying such tiny ones, so I'm not trying. It's cute though, love the frilly hat.

Probably a blusher. These usually aren't so gray, but they have a lot of variability. Edible after thorough heating. You'll notice the lack of grooves on the hat's edges and those velum remnants on top. The ring though, it looks so fancy! Reminds me of a sock. (Perlpilz)

Another note, I don't recommend collecting these, they're easily mistaken for panther caps/ false blushers. They can be fatal! (Pantherpilz)

This one had a big chunk of its cap missing, I thought it looked super interesting. Looking at the cap and rings it's most likely another blusher, or false blusher! Gotta be careful.

More tiny ones, I'm not trying. But I think they look like jellyfish! Especially with those thin black stems.

Okay if you actually read all that I'm rather surprised, this isn't... In line with what I usually post. But I'm really happy with these photos, and I wanted to share. I am in no way an expert, please do your own research if you want to collect mushrooms. (All these mushrooms are native to Europe, but some other places too.) (The german names are for personal reference)

[lizard-shifter-noms]

Still Subject to Change Chapter 25 (NEW)

——————————————————————————-

Hello everyone! i decided to repost arc 1 of SSTC

(the chapters were way too long and had a bunch of typos but hopefully this will make reading easier)

this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.

if there are still any grammatical errors i’m sorry.

——————————————————————————

Barsen Effortlessly Hoisted the ceramic vessel onto his shoulder he turned a bit to go into another hallway.

“It’s right this way, I assume you got lost for a bit?”

Walking after him Robin immediately started chattering his ear off.

“Yeah! And then we thought we could ask someone for help but they-”

Tuning his retellings of what happened out for a moment I looked to Arthur instead who was still holding his sore jaw.

“You okay? I’m so sorry that happened”

He Hmm’d and made a dismissive hand motion.

“Im fine, s’just a bruise, also i broke the guys nose so i won”

So the cracking noise i heard was indeed caused by a breaking bone, well cartilage actually if i remembered correctly.

Still, getting punched in the jaw wasn’t fun as I knew from experience.

“If you’re sure, but just as a tip don’t use the hurting side to chew, that just puts pressure on the sore parts”

He looked bewildered for a moment.

“Did you get punched in the face before? Or how do you know that?”

I nodded at his inquiry.

“Multiple times, beating the face of a Bastard is apparently fun for a lot of people, i’m lucky i never had it broken”

He looked a bit shocked at the admission, and had likely drawn the correct conclusion that all the Fae hating people in the town had used me as a punching bag in the past.

Thinking about it, I was incredibly lucky to survive that long.

“Fucking hell, well im pretty sure that kinda stuff is stopping now with Rikaad as king”

“Yeah, i mean he’s already going over the paperwork, so i’m sure it will get better from now on”

He nodded and smiled as best as he could with his slowly swelling jaw, Then winced a little and went back to holding the bottom half of his face with his hands.

I looked forward again to Robin who was still chattering on to Barsen, Now about plants.

Well he was the Gardener so talking about plants was the best topic to make small talk.

Listening for a few seconds I realized Robin was talking about the plants I had told him about after he asked what was edible and what wasn’t.

I felt strangely touched that he actually remembered all of it, and that he went to talk about it with an actual Gardener who was much more a plant expert than I was.

Walking around a bend i could see a door with a familiar sign on it, the infirmary.

We would really need to find a way to navigate this idiotic layout of the castle, Why would anyone build it like this in the first place anyway?

At least we were back at a point we knew and Arthur could get his jaw looked at by a medic.

“Here we are, if you boys ever need help again feel free to ask, i’m sure we’ll see each other around, I have to bring this to its new place now”

He gently patted the ceramic pot on his shoulder and turned to leave.

“Thank you for bringing us here, Barsen!”

I waved after him and Robin excitedly jumped up and down next to me.

“Bye Barsen! Thanks for helping!”

Arthur just waved as his jaw had swelled some more and talking would probably hurt now.

Since one of us was injured I felt like it wasn’t an unjust disturbance to knock on the infirmary door.

It took barely ten seconds for the nurse who had opened last time to open once again.

She took one look at us and especially Arthur before winking us inside.

“How did that happen? You were here not too long ago and i’m very sure you didn’t have that bruise back then, it looks pretty new”

Since Arthut had trouble talking with a swollen jaw I substituted the answer.

“He got punched by some card playing Guards for telling them off”

The Nurse let out an annoyed huff.

“Oh i know who you mean, they regularly come in here with a hangover and at this point i don’t let them in anymore, i hope the new king does something about it”

Oh, he for sure would, he had a strong sense of justice after all, he’d probably just fire them seeing as it appeared that they did not contribute anything at all.

Aside from that we could just tell Nea and she’d kick their asses.

Speaking of, I looked around the room to see if I could spot her.

While Arthur was led to a cabinet that smelled strongly of some kind of disinfectant and alcohol I saw a corner that was separated by white curtains.

Robin awkwardly stood next to me and it was clear he didn’t know what to do.

Neither did i if i was honest, Arthur was getting the medical attention he needed and i didn’t see Nea anywhere at all.

“Donovan? Do you see Nea anywhere? Do you think she’s okay?”

I looked around once more just to confirm I hadn’t missed her.

“No idea where she is but i’m sure-”

“Focking Hell! That stings! What are ya even doin?”

I was interrupted by a very familiar voice hurling mild obscenities at whoever was near her.

Nea had been behind the white curtain the entire time!

No wonder we didn’t see her.

Robin looked at me with big eyes.

“Nevermind, i found her”

“Shall we go and say hello? I have no idea how long Arthur takes with that bruise after all”

After a nod from him we went over to the curtain where I could still hear Nea cussing out whoever was with her.

“Hold still already! Or I’m going to sedate you again!”

Wait, I knew that voice.

“Oakley? Since when are you back? And what do you mean by sedating her again?”

A two pronged tail shoved the curtain aside and revealed the winged man standing over Nea and bandaging her foot with a weird smelling cloth.

“Hello Donovan! I had to drug her cuz she wouldn’t stop trying to punch me”

“And I’ll do it again! That stung! Ya coulda have warned me at least!”

Glad to know that Nea was already getting better, at least judging by her angry disposition.

“I did warn you! But you were busy cursing at the dead ice mage!

You could at least show some consideration to the people that help you!”

Nea just huffed angrily.

“Ya didn’t have ta focking drug me ovar that!”

Her weird accent was shining through a bit more than before I noted.

Was it because she was angry right now?

Whatever the case she glared at Oakley while he finished wrapping up her foot.

“Well anyway, remember what i told you about taking care of it, and for fucks sake don’t make it worse or im going to set it on fire to combat the ice magic! Be glad it didn’t freeze your foot off!”

“Yeah yeah, I'm not dumb im not going to do anything that could make me lose it after I got so close to having it amputated by that quack!”

Wait what!? Close to amputated?

Did the doc she was brought to attempt that?

Robin who stood next to me also had a shocked expression.

“Oh no! Are you okay? Why would they try to do that?”

Oakley looked at him.

“Well they have no experience in dealing with magic, so I guess they thought it best to remove it before it could spread the coldness even more? She’s lucky i got here in time”

Nea just crossed her arms and huffed unhappily.

“Imma kick their shins as soon as i’m fit again”

Yeah, she seemed to be well on her way to recovery if she was already threatening violence again.

“Well I guess my work here is done, Anything I can help you two with?”

Before I could come up with a way to ask for help about my aching Pouch without admitting anything, I didn’t want anyone to know about it. 

Robin had already started to tell Oakley that Arthur got socked in the jaw.

“Arthur got punched in the jaw, can you help him too?

It looks like it hurts a lot, he’s with a Nurse right now”

Well, since Nea was right here it probably was for the better that i didn’t ask him right now, Besides, Arthur would probably appreciate the help.

“What did he do ta get his face punched? Also yeah better help him lest one of tha doc’s decides ta amputate that too!”

She was definitely still sour that one of the medics here tried that.

Also maybe putting it out there that she could kick some delinquents as soon as she was better might lift her mood a bit.

So while Robin brought Oakley to Arthur I told her in simple terms what had happened.

“Some card playing Guards got angry when we asked for directions”

Since apparently a lot of people immediately knew who we were talking about when we said card playing guards she would probably know too.

“Those guys again? I ought to break their fingers! Every single one-”

She stopped to stare at me and I suddenly recalled that she had only known me in the Ardua form and I got nervous.

Well Barsen had known somehow that the Ardua and I were the same thing so maybe I would get lucky again.

“That’s what yer human form looks like? At least ye still have the same eyes, and Yer smaller than i thought, and tha hell is with yer ears?”

To exaggerate her point she bent forward and pinched the ear closest to her and lighty tugged down a bit.

That sent off a weird feeling to my brain and my fight or flight thing activated making me freeze on the spot.

Since Robin had dragged Oakley to Arthur already there was no one that could help me.

“Oww, Nea! Let go!”

She immediately let go and I carefully rubbed my ear where she had pinched it.

A sword lady for sure with strong fingers like that, I would have to remind myself to never arm wrestle against her.

“Sorry! Didn’t know yer ears where so sensitive”

“Im fine, you didn’t know, Just don’t do that ever again”

I grumbled out at her apology, still holding my sore ear.

“I do gotta ask though, which one are you?

Beast turned human or human turned Beast?”

What, well as unexpected as this question was, it was still easy to answer.

“I’m shifting into the Beast, which is called an Ardua by the way, and the form you see now is the one i was born with”

“Ha! you’re just a little gremlin!

If i coulda done that who knew what insane stuff i had come up with!”

Suddenly I was very glad nobody else could use the bracelet seeing as just the prospect of shifting made her admit that she would have done some rather idiotic stuff.

“I uh, I guess? To be honest i kinda expected to be stabbed as soon as the people here saw my ears but till now only those card players tried to”

Her gaze shifted into something I couldn’t pinpoint, but it sure wasn’t happy.

“They What? Oh imma break something for sure! Let me guess, Arthur got punched cuz he was in the way?”

I nodded at her correct assumption.

“Well he kinda put himself in the way, and he pulled me aside as one of them aimed for my face with a dagger and then blocked the doorway”

“So he saved ya, imma have to congratulate him for quick thinking i guess, eh later”

Right, Arthur saved me, and Robin too as I was pretty sure he’d have gotten caught in the crossfire.

“Oi don’t look so down! Yer all safe and that winged fucker is doing whatever to help the blondie, it’ll be fine!”

Ah, my apprehensiveness showed on my face, that or she was just good at reading emotions.

Considering she was surrounded by helmeted people a lot of the time it might be the latter, might.

“How’d ya get away after that anyway?”

I looked back up to her.

“The gardener, Barsen is his name if I remember correctly, calmly told them off then brought us here.”

“Ah yes Barsen, the guy is a godsend sometimes, and he’s always so nice, No idea how he manages that i would have been ticked off long ago!”

So the gardener was rather well known in the castle halls, and for being a good guy no less.

I’d have to really talk to him at some point just to see for myself.

“Well what about you? How are you?

Your foots been fixed and now you just have to rest for a while”

She sat up straight, with her legs still stretched out in front of her and I had to note that she was rather flexible.

“I’m out of commission for at least six weeks, That sucks so much! I can’t even kick tha slackers anymore!”

A fair sentiment, seeing as she was a rather energetic person that had to be especially annoying.

“Nea i have no doubt that as soon as you get crutches you are going to hit people with those”

“Damn roight ya are, I am gunna do that! Just cuz I’m out for a bit dun’t mean thay can just sleep on tha job!”

She had devolved into an accent i couldn’t place for the life of me, but it did sound angry.

“Oh calm down, I’m sure it’s not so bad! You could pick up a hobby or something!”

She just stared daggers at me.

“I’m going ta make it my hobby ta bite anyone that says shit about me being off duty just out of spite!”

I had to snort out a laugh at that.

“What? Did the vampire bite you that you want to bite people all of a sudden?”

The sentiment was funny because I knew she did not get Bitten.

“Nah, but what do ya think the fucker woulda done with our corpses had we died?”

Well seeing as it was a vampire that only left one option really.

“Probably eaten them, or at least sucked all the blood out, i guess you could call him a sucker cuz he sucked at his objective”

She actually laughed at my really bad joke before slapping me across the back making me lurch forward and my pouch started to hurt worse again from the impact.

Still i didn’t let anything of that show on my face, and what little did show could easily be mistaken as her hitting me in a sore spot.

“Ya know yer green form is big enough to do that i think”

I froze in place at her words, not sure what to do now.

She didn’t know that much was clear but she had correctly guessed what i was capable of and i could absolutely not let anymore people know about this.

“What? That thought never occurred ta ya?

Well i guess since ya are part plant ya can live off sunlight like plants do, So ya probably don’t think about such stuff”

Luckily she mistook my freezing up in panic as me just being uncomfortable with such a topic.

“Uh-”

“Eh sorry if that made ya uncomfy, i sometimes have a rather wild imagination, just ignore what i said”

Well at least she had correctly guessed the plant thing, but she was not dumb, at all, so i would have to be extra careful around her to not let anything slip.

And now I was nervous, great, just great, but it had probably been long enough that I could excuse myself and got back to Arthur and Robin.

“Well i should probably go back to the other two and let you rest, I wish you a fast recovery”

She gave me a thumbs up and I stood up, turning to face the rest of the room only to have a pillow fly by my ear and hit Oakley from behind.

He let out an extremely birdlike squawk and whipped his head around with an irritated expression.

I looked back to Nea who was just flipping him, ironically, the bird.

“Next time warn a gal before ya use drugs ya cunt”

“Well, next time i’ll just leave the drugs out and you can feel all of the pain then”

Oh, it looked like Nea was still very sour about the sedative, at least it was just a pillow as everything else that could be thrown was well out of reach.

Good thinking on part of the medics, well they were probably used to such antics by now.

I decided it best to get out of the line of fire and moved slowly away from Neas corner.

Though slinking away turned out to be unnecessary when Oakley grabbed a bag and just left out the door.

Fuck, now i had to search for him again, At this point I'd never get help.

Well at least Arthur seemed okay now, He was still holding his jaw but the swelling was gone and all that was left was some discoloration from the bruise itself.

Avoiding being hit by something in case Nea decided to throw something else I went over to both Arthur and Robin.

Arthur greeted me with a little wave and gestured weirdly to his jaw.

He was silent the entire time but luckily Robin filled me in on why.

“Hey Donovan! Oakley fixed Arthur’s jaw as best as he could but he said it would be numb for a bit!”

That made sense, if the thing that got the swelling down was also numbing it he wouldn’t be able to coherently talk.

“How long is a bit? A few minutes or like an hour?”

Robin looked to Arthur once before answering.

“Uuhh, we don’t know, we forgot to ask”

So Arthur was stuck with a numb jaw for ‘a bit’

which could be actual hours and not just a few minutes.

“Well we could ask him, I think he’s outside? I’m not sure but the tower he wanted seems the most likely place so we should check there”

“Oh right! And you wanted to ask more about Ardua! I bet he’s got some really old books!”

While I hadn’t seen Oakleys shed on the inside, with all the knowledge he had it was very likely that he owned some rather rare tomes.

Like the one about Ardua for example, Maybe I’d ask him if I could read it.

I was not a fast reader by any means but at least I could read unlike some other street dwellers.

“Yeah he seems the type to have that, and he did say he had one about Ardua so i’m just going to ask if i can read it myself”

Arthur looked at me strangely as I said this, what?

Did he think just because I grew up on the street for a majority of my life meant I couldn’t read?

Arthur’s confused staring was interrupted by Robin.

“Are you good at reading? I’m not, the letters start to shift when i look at them too long and it hurts my head”

Both me and Arthur looked at him concerned.

“I don’t think letters are supposed to do that, Maybe you need glasses for reading?”

The ginger shook his head.

“Already tried that, didn’t work and the glass warped everything weirdly, I don’t want that again, it looked like nausea feels”

That was one of the weirdest descriptions I had heard in my life but strangely enough I could actually picture what he meant.

“That’s weird, well i’m no expert to such stuff so i can’t say why its like that for you”

He didn’t seem overly bothered by it and just shrugged, Then his usual curiosity returned.

“Who taught you to read? I thought you couldn’t go to school with your pointy ears?”

Oh, right, that was true but I did hide on the roof of one occasionally and learn by just listening.

“My Mother showed me how to read, well before she died at least so i’m not very good at it”

Arthur tried to say something to that but only managed to mumble something completely incomprehensible due to his numb jaw.

“What? Oh wait yeah we should go to Oakley and ask him how long that stuff is going to numb your jaw”

Judging by his face that was not what he had meant to say but since he couldn’t talk right now we could only guess.

Despite having tried to say something else than what we assumed he walked towards the door of the infirmary.

“Oh, we can ask him what types of magic he knows!

Ooh maybe he can teach me a spell!”

We weren’t even out of the room and Robin was already excitedly jumping up and down.

“Haha maybe, i don’t know if all humans can use magic though, Well if someone knows that it’s Oakley”

His enthusiasm was adorable, and it gave me something better to focus on that my hurting organ.

Arthur also gave a thumbs up to Robin since he couldn’t exactly say anything about this.

“Ooohh wait, Elemental magic is a thing! What element do you think fits me best? What Element do you think fits you? I think Fire would be cool!

But that’s probably dangerous, uhh maybe air! Then I could use wind to grab stuff from the top shelves! What do you think?”

Right, elemental magic, well considering the Nature of the Ardua form the magic in the bracelet was probably Earthen.

As for what Element fit Robin best-

“Well with red hair like that Fire would be a fitting match i guess, but air could fit too, not that i know anything about that sort of stuff but i think you could find and twist stuff so every element fits you somehow”

Arthur made an agreeing Hmm and nodded while Robin just stared at the air before facing us again.

“Well what do you think you are? With the shifting i mean and-”

He gestured to the bracelet.

“-that? I mean it’s definitely NOT fire i don’t think at least”

I looked down again at the bracelet with the embedded green gems, Yep definitely Earthen considering everything.

“I’m pretty sure it’s Earthen, i mean come on i’m a big plant lion thing what else would it be?”

A goofy smile appeared on his face and even Arthur tried to to grin which failed as half his lips were still numb.

“You’re right! Big plant cat is for sure an Earth element!

And the gems on your bracelet are green too!

Hey, what do you think Oakley is element wise?”

Oakleys Element? Hmm that was trickier, he said he did not have an affinity for ice magic so it probably wasn’t water.

I Doubted that it was fire as I just couldn’t see the tailed man using flames for anything, and he had wings so it was very likely that it was air.

“Well he’s got wings, so I guess it’s Air?

He said he’s not good at ice magic so it definitely isn’t water”

While we went around the corner that led to the hallway with the exit door my mind went back to when Oakley had used the ice staff to melt all of the snow.

For someone who said they weren’t good at ice magic he had been very adept at removing the snow.

If that was what he considered bad then I was curious as to what he defined as good at magic.

“Not water huh, well I guess Air is the opposite? Or would that be earth?

I think Fire and Water are opposite but i don’t know about the other two”

Robin seemed very intrigued by the concept of magic, and to me fair being able to use magic did sound like it would be great.

“I don’t know about opposites, if that even counts in element magic, but im sure if you could use magic you’d do something cool with it”

Robin smiled brightly and now that we were at the same scale I could make out his chipped tooth perfectly, it looked like a tiny little fang.

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