#one of those things you can’t explain well but also can’t shake lol

[finrays]

I read a Cracked article back when the site was still good that, for some reason, described eating shredded cheese straight from the bag as a “barbarian activity.” I can’t remember the context, but it was funny and it stuck in my head.

And now whenever someone refers to the Nora as uncivilized in some way in the Horizon games, I just… hear Lance Reddick’s Sylens voice in my head like “They’re barbarians, they eat shredded cheese straight out of the bag.”

It’s one of those dumb quirks that sticks with you. Not helped by the fact that Aloy would NOT be bearing those allegations and would probably immediately start double-fisting a Costco sized bag of sharp cheddar shreds were she presented with one.

[kimoralov3]

daylight

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

description: steve has had a lot of trouble in his love life. but he's also one of the biggest idiots known to man because the girl of his dreams is standing right in front of him

warnings: swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns, everyone is a lil mean to steve, mentions of stancy (not like that), like i said steve is an idiot, slight angst, fluff

word count: 3059

a/n: tagging @arkofblake because this technically was smth that she requested before i changed it. also shout out to her mom for the knowledge about phones from the 80s lol

“Steve, you can’t keep staring at her like some sort of lost puppy.” Robin says as she helps Steve put some beer and sodas in the cooler.

“What are you talking about?” He asks as he turns back to the fridge.

“Oh please, you’ve been staring at Nancy and Jonathan ever since they got here.” Robin comments as she opens the bag of ice and clumsily dumps it into the small cooler.

“Have not.” Steve mutters as he shuts the fridge door. Robin gives him a look, the look she seems to be giving him a lot these days. “Okay, fine. I have been staring at them, but not for the reason you’re thinking.”

“Oh really? What other reason is there for you to be staring at your ex and her new boyfriend?” She says suspiciously.

Steve pauses, trying to find the words to express the tangled mess that is his love life. He eventually gives up, shaking his head as he grabs the cooler off the counter and walks outside to the pool. “I can’t explain it.”

“Oh come on, you gotta give me something.” Robin pleads, giving Steve her best puppy dog eyes.

Steve glances over at his best friend before quickly looking away. “Those don’t work on me.” He says definitely, but quickly gives in when he spares another glance at Robin. “Seeing them together just makes me think about all the things I don’t have.”

“Wow, that’s really sad.” Robin says solemnly as she holds the back door open for Steve. “You sure you don’t still have feelings for Nancy?” She adds after another moment of silence. 

“Absolutely positive, Robin. That ship sailed a long time ago.” He explains as he sets the cooler by the pool.

And he wasn’t lying. Steve really was over Nancy. Sure, there had been a time when he thought the two of them would evolve into something more, but that was ages ago. 

But now Steve was alone for the first time in years, and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He’d been on dates, but they’d turned more into a chore than something he was actually enjoying. They all left him feeling like a piece of him was missing, a piece of himself that he just knew was important. 

“Steve?” A voice called, pulling him from his well of self despair. 

“Yeah?” He says as he turns around, nearly falling over when he notices who’s in front of him.

“Can you move over so I can grab a soda?” Y/N asks politely as she gestures to the cooler behind Steve.

“Oh shit, yeah, of course.” Steve stutters as he moves out of the way, nearly falling into the pool. Y/N gives him an awkward smile as she grabs a soda before walking back over to sit with Jonathan and Nancy. 

“What was all of that about?” Dustin asks as he appears beside Steve, munching on some Goldfish.

“Jesus kid, you need to wear a bell or something!” Steve exclaims as he presses a hand to his fast beating heart. 

“Or maybe you just need to be more observant.” Dustin says mockingly as he flicks a Goldfish at Steve’s face, causing the older male to swat at him.

“Will you two quit it!” Robin says as she separates the two of them. Dustin flips Steve off before going to go sit back with the party and Suzie. 

“I swear that kid has no manners.” Steve mutters to himself as Robin walks away to go sit with Eddie and Chrissy. Steve is so busy mentally planning out his revenge against Henderson that he doesn’t notice a certain someone staring at him like he’s hung the moon and the stars.

—

“Robin, you seriously need glasses or something. How could you put Ferris Bueller and Top Gun in the same section?” Steve complains as he removes the tapes from the shelf.

“Oh quit being a baby and move them, I’m busy here.” Robin calls from the back. Steve rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he moves to the back of the store to grab his cart. 

“I’ll be with you in a minute!” He says when the front door rings. He sets the missorted tapes on a random shelf as he walks back up to the front counter.

“Welcome to Family Video, how can I help y— Y/N?” Steve asks, shocked to see her here.

“Oh, hey Steve. I forgot you worked here.” She says with a laugh as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder. Effortlessly, and beautifully to him, if anyone cared enough to ask what he thought. Which was a rarity. 

Steve gives her a small smile, silently cursing himself for not taking his normal amount of care when he was getting ready this morning. 

Robin really needs to learn some patience.

“Yeah, have been for a while.” He says as he rubs the nape of his neck. “So, what can I help you with today?” 

“Well, my parents are out of town so it’s just me at home. Figured I’d get some movies to keep myself occupied for a while they’re gone.” She explains as she looks around the store before her eyes land on Steve once again, causing a shiver to run down his spine. “Got any recommendations for me?”

“Of course, walk with me.” He says, shooting her his signature smile as he walks over to the staff picks shelf. 

“Is that Labyrinth?” Y/N asks with a chuckle as she picks it up and inspects the back.

Steve groans, rolling his eyes as he sees the movie. “Fucking Eddie. He must’ve snuck it onto the shelf when he was here earlier.”

“Well, he has good taste. Think I’ll be taking this one with me.” She says as she waves the box. Steve can’t explain it, but he feels a small tightness in his chest. 

“To each their own, I guess.” He says with a shrug, trying to ignore this strange feeling. “Anyways, I would definitely recommend these if you’re looking for a more calm night in.” 

Steve hands over The Goonies, The Muppets Take Manhattan, and Back to the Future, waiting patiently for a reaction. 

“Oh my god, is this a Muppets movie?” She asks with a laugh, inspecting the box. “My little cousin loves this movie.”

“Hm, I don’t know how I should feel about that. Are you calling my cinematic taste childish?” Steve asks with a chuckle as he leans against the shelf.

“I would definitely call it that.” Robin says, wheeling a cart as she walks past the two of them. Steve glares at her while Y/N snorts, hiding her smile behind her hand. 

“I wasn’t going to say that it was childish. I was going to say that it’s…interesting.” She explains, her voice pitching up on the last word. 

Steve scoffs at that, shaking his head. “Sure, we’ll go with that.” He says jokingly. “So, will this be all for you?”

“Uh, yeah. This should be good enough for the weekend.” She says as the two of them walk back to the front counter. 

“Glad to be of service.” Steve says as he takes a small bow, cursing himself for how stupid he probably looks. 

“You know, you’re really funny.” Y/N says as Steve rings up the movies. Steve smiles softly, more affected by her words than he would like to admit.

“Could you tell Robin that? She says I have the humor of an old man.” He jokes as he puts the tapes into a bag. Y/N snorts again, this time a little louder. 

“See what I mean? Very funny, Harrington. Very funny.” She says as he hands her the bag. There’s a brief moment of silence before Y/N speaks up again. “Do you wanna come over tomorrow? You know, watch a movie with me or something?” She asks nervously. 

Steve’s mouth hangs open a little, blinking slowly. There was no way he heard that correctly. “You want me to come over?” 

“Yeah. Only if you want to, of course.” She clarifies quickly. 

“Of course I wanna come. I’ll even bring some snacks.” He says as he leans his arms on the counter. 

Y/N smiles at that, nodding her head. “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She says, giving Steve one final wave before leaving. 

“Man, you are such a doofus.” Robin says as she comes up behind him. 

“Can you not?” Steve says as he turns around to face her. Robin smirks, winking at him before walking away. 

—

“You did what?” Eddie asks with a laugh as he stops strumming on his guitar.

“Don’t laugh at me, I need your help here!” Steve says as he throws his soda can at Eddie.

“Hey, careful! This is my most prized possession.” Eddie says as he throws the can back at Steve, missing him entirely. “Now, tell me exactly what happened.”

“Y/N invited me over, and I went because of course I would, you know? And everything was going really well, at least to me.” Steve explains as he leans back against Eddie’s dresser. 

“Okay, doesn’t sound too bad so far. What happened after that?” Eddie says as he turns the knobs on his guitar. 

“Then I thanked her for inviting me and left.” Steve says simply. Eddie abruptly stops what he’s doing, setting his guitar down on his bed.

“You did what now?” Eddie exclaims as he stands from the bed, causing Steve to look up at him. 

“Left. Why, what’s wrong?” He asked, very confused by Eddie’s sudden outburst. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, that’s what’s wrong.” Eddie says as he grabs Steve’s arm and hauls him into the living room. “Stand right there.” 

Steve grumbles something under his breath as he rubs his arm where Eddie had grabbed it. “Since when are you strong?”

“Amps are heavy as shit man. Now shush.” He says as he dials a number on the phone. Steve mutters something about Eddie being rude as he watches him press the phone to his ear. 

“Who are you calling?” Steve asks, only to be shushed by Eddie. Steve rolls his eyes, watching as Eddie waits for the person on the other end to pick up. 

“Hey Y/N! Do you have a moment to talk?” Eddie says when the person on the other end picks up. Steve automatically stands up straighter, listening closely to try and hear what Y/N was saying. 

“— Not in the mood—” Is the only thing that Steve can make out from here, causing him to frown. Was Y/N really that upset with him that she didn’t want to talk to anyone?

“Just humor me, please? What exactly happened yesterday with Harrington?” Eddie asks as Steve gets closer to the phone.

“I did what you and Robin told me to and asked Steve out, and absolutely nothing happened. I even tried scooting closer to him to see if he would catch the hint, but he didn’t! And then when it was time for him to leave, I went to kiss his cheek and he hugged me, Eddie. He hugged me!” Y/N rants from the other end of the line. “So either everyone is bullshitting me and Steve Harrington actually isn’t into me, or he’s the most oblivious man on the face of the planet.” 

Eddie gives Steve a knowing look as he says his goodbyes before hanging up the phone. “See? Idiot.”

Steve bangs his head against the wall as Eddie pats him pitifully on the shoulder. “So you mean to tell me that yesterday was supposed to be a date?” He finally says when he’s done with his attempt to knock some sense into himself. 

“It was a date. Could you honestly not tell?” Eddie asks as he crosses his arms over his chest. 

“No! I just thought that she was trying to be nice!” Steve says as he slides down the wall. 

“Man, can’t believe this. Former king of Hawkins High is sitting on the floor of my trailer, having a crisis because he blew a date with a pretty girl.” Eddie says as he shakes his head. Steve doesn’t even bother responding, sitting there with his head in his hands. “So, are you going to try and fix it or not?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks as he finally looks up.

“God, since when did I become the smart one here?” Eddie asks in mock disappointment. “You need to go back over to Y/N’s and make everything right.” 

“How am I supposed to do that? I think you of all people should know that I’m not good with this stuff.” Steve said as he stood up. Eddie groans, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“My god, Harrington. You’re hopeless.” He says. “Here, I’ll tell you exactly what to do.”

Under any other circumstance, those words would’ve sent fear straight into Steve’s heart. Especially coming from someone like Eddie. But he was desperate, and desperate people don’t always make the smartest decisions. 

—

Steve stands outside of Y/N’s door, her favorite flowers in hand. He stands there for a moment, mentally going over everything that Eddie told him to say. He takes a deep breath before giving up and knocking on the door.

It’s silent for a moment before Steve hears the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. The door opens up to reveal Y/N standing there, arms over her chest.

“What do you want, Harrington?” She asks coldly. Steve gulps at that, rocking back and forth on his feet a little. Guess I deserve that a little.

“I just came here to apologize. For yesterday.” He says as he holds out the bouquet of flowers. Y/N hesitates before taking the flowers from him, smelling them quickly.

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” She asks after a moment.

“For being an idiot. If I had known that you wanted yesterday to be a date, I would’ve handled things a lot differently.” Steve explains as he nervously shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Different? Different how?” She asks as she leans against the doorframe. Steve pauses, trying to think of the best way to say what he wanted to say.

“Can I come in? I think it would be better.” He asks as he scratches his head. Y/N gives him a suspicious look before stepping aside and gesturing to the living room. Steve mutters a small thank you as the two of them walk into the living room and sit on the couch. 

“So, what exactly is it that you would’ve done differently?” She asks as she sets the flowers on the coffee table. 

“For starters, I wouldn’t have let our first date just be us watching a Muppets movie on your couch.” Steve says in a joking tone, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. “If I had known, I would have taken you out to dinner. Hell, if you really wanted I would’ve taken you to go see one but god I would not have gone to go see a freaking kids movie.”

“Why, what’s wrong with kids' movies?” Y/N asks teasingly, causing Steve to laugh for the first time since he got there. 

“I guess you’re right.” Steve says as he turns to face Y/N. “Can we get a do over date? I promise that this time I won’t act like a complete idiot.” He says sincerely. Y/N seems to mull it over for a moment before looking up at Steve.

“Promise?” She asks softly, as if she was still hurt and embarrassed from what happened the night before. 

“Swear on my life. And you know if I break it, I’ll have Nancy, Robin, and Eddie on my ass about it.” He adds jokingly, but it isn’t really a joke. He had seen first hand how scary Nancy could be when she was upset, and he did not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. Again. 

“Fine. But I’ll need you to ask me properly.” She says after a longer moment of consideration, sitting up straight against the back of the couch.

“Fine by me.” Steve says as he stands up, pulling Y/N with him. They give each other small smiles before Steve clears his throat dramatically. “Y/N, I’ve had feelings for you for a while now. Longer than I would personally like to admit. So, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?” 

Y/N stands with their hand on their chin, looking off into space as she pretends to think long and hard about Steve’s offer. Steve starts to get nervous that she might actually reject him when she leans up, pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “Of course I’ll go out with you, Steve.” 

Steve feels the heat rush to his cheek at Y/N’s actions, looking down at them with the biggest grin in the world. “You know, technically we’ve already had our first date. So it wouldn’t be completely insane of me to kiss you, would it?” He asks as he steps closer to her. 

Y/N lets out a chuckle before responding, her hands behind her back. “No, no. I don’t think it would be completely insane, as you put it.” 

That’s all the permission Steve needs before he pulls Y/N closer by her hips, their lips slotting together perfectly. He feels more than hears her sigh into the kiss as she raises her arms to wrap them around his neck. 

When they both pull away for air, Steve swears he can see all the stars in her eyes. “That was…”

“Wow, how many girls can say that they took Steve Harrington’s breath away after a single kiss?” She asks teasingly, although it was easy to tell by the heat of her cheeks that she was just as — if not more — affected by the kiss as Steve was. 

Steve rolls his eyes, which was seeming to become a common practice for him these days. “Way to ruin the moment.”

Y/N shrugs, giving Steve one of her award winning smiles. At least they were in his mind. “What can I say, it’s one of my many special talents.”

[thebearer]

follow me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: the bear needs a social media rebrand. sydney hired you, and carmen gets more than just followers after meeting you.

an: bad descript i'm sorry lol. basically you're a social media manager and carmen likes you lol or how you and carmen meet <3 also thinking this will be a part 1???? lmk if you want a part 2!!!

contains: reader is a social media manager. language. carmen denying himself happiness ofc. mentions of mikey. fluff, fluff, fluff!!!

“What the hell is this?” Sydney’s voice raised, brow raised even higher to heighten her suspicions. Maybe her disgust. 

After Carmen looked at the snarl on her face, he decided it was definitely disgust. 

“What?” Carmen shrugged, looking at the screen in front of him. “It’s the, uh, The Beef’s old Instagram.” 

“Right.” Sydney said slowly, blinking at Carmen obviously. “The Beef, and we are not that anymore. We are The Bear.” She scrolled for a moment. “They also haven’t posted since twenty-twenty, which is-” 

“-Well, Mikey ran it, alright?” Carmen huffed, glaring at Sydney with annoyance. “I just found the fuckin’ password on a fucking gum wrapper in a folder labeled ‘important shit’ so I don’t know what to tell you.” 

Sydney nodded slowly, looking back at the phone, before sighing deeply. “I know what you should do.” She said, typing on her phone. Carmen grunted, still looking at the piles of order forms for produce in front of him. “You need a social media manager, because Carm, this? It's not gonna work.” 

“Social media what?” Carmen’s brows creased, shaking his head. “I don’t- no, I don’t need to do that. I’ll just, I’ll get Gary or fuckin’ Sweeps or Fak to run-”

“No, no, Carmen, seriously? Look at this. There’s- oh my God- there’s a thing here that says bring your own plate and you’ll get a free drink, Carmen… What the fuck?” Sydney sighed, shaking her head at him. 

Carmen nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I-I’m thinking that was a, uh, a Mikey special.” He muttered, pinching his eyes shut. “I can’t afford to hire someone on the payroll for that long, ok? Not when I could hire another hostess or-or a runner.” 

“They only come in to revamp and get it started. Just a little kick start for now. To get us started.” Sydney explained, clicking on her screen. “Look, I have a mutual friend with this girl who’s really fuckin’ good, ok? She did Lobo’s that pizza place? Got them from two hundred to eighteen thousand followers in like two or three months.” 

Carmen’s eyes flashed, looking at Sydney with a raised brow. “Seriously? Fuck…” Carmen looked at the screen, the crisp photos, videos, fun and trendy- vibrant and alluring. He hated to admit it, but it was good. 

“Look, Carm, it’s free advertising, ok? You catch the influencers if it goes viral. Could really put this place out there.” Sydney countered. “It’d be a lot cheaper than paying for some shitty advertisement on the news that no one watches anyways. Could bring in a lot of business and attention.” 

Carmen’s fingers drummed against the counter, sighing sharply. “Fine, whatever, see if you can get her in and just… Just tell me how much I need to put aside, alright? I’ll push the new glasses until then.” 

Sydney smiled triumphantly, nodding at Carmen. “Yes, Chef.” She saluted, walking out of the office. 

Three days later, you were standing outside of The Bear, newly opened, freshly renovated, and steady but not booming. “Uh, excuse me?” You waved through the window at the man in the beanie, looking at you carefully. 

“Hey, we’re closed until dinner, alright? But you can-” 

“Oh, no. I, uh, I’m not here for eating.” You cringed, shaking your head. “I’m looking for Sydney? Or Carmen? I’m the new social media person?” 

“Social media?” The man repeated, pushing the door open further. “Oh, shit! You’re the girl who does the, uh, Lobo and Avec!” 

“Yeah, I am.” You blushed, walking into the restaurant. 

“I love watching those reels of the asmr cutting the bread. Ugh, I watch it every night before going to bed.” The guy laughed, locking the door behind you. “Oh, I’m Marcus by the way.” 

You took his extended hand, introducing yourself, while you took in the fixtures on the wall, the art, the overall ambiance. “I am going to get Carmen, but you can stay right here if you want.” Marcus grinned, pushing the sliding doors open. 

You set your things down, pulling out your notebook, and looking around the restaurant. You knew that this was once The Beef, Sydney had sent you a few things about Carmen’s credentials and you looked up the rest. Impressed was an understatement, a guy your age that had ran the best restaurant in the world? Quite possibly was the best chef in the world or at least Chicago and needed your help? You were nervous, to say the least. 

Marcus called your name, making you jump slightly as you turned around. “Uh, so this is Carmen. He’s the owner, the head chef.” 

“Hi,” You were met with piercing blue eyes, hidden under a stray blonde lock of hair. Carmen’s hand reached for yours. “Nice to meet you. Sydney, uh, she couldn’t stop tellin’ me about your work. Thank you for helpin’ us out.” 

“No, no, thank you.” You reached for his hand, strong, a little rough, trying not to stare at his inked fingers. “It’s a pleasure to work with you. She told me a little about you, about the restaurant. It’s very impressive. Surprised you needed me.” You grinned. 

Carmen bit back a smile, looking down to hide his blush. Fuck, Sydney said you were good at your job, she failed to mention that you were so fuckin’ pretty too. Carmen could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, taking flight like he was a middle schooler again with a school yard crush. 

“So, if you have time, I want to go over some goals with you?” You say, gripping your notebook tightly. 

“Goals. Right, uh,” Carmen looked through the back doors. “Sydney is on her break, and-and my sister, Sugar- well, her name is Natalie, she’s like our manager. Richie too, uh, shit- I’m sorry that’s a lot of people, I know.” Carmen shook his head, an anxious laugh pealing out from his lips. “Those are the people you need to talk to, basically. I can grab them, just-” 

“-But you’re the owner, right?” You asked, lifting a brow gently. 

“No, I mean, yeah, I am.” Carmen stuttered. 

“Then I need to talk to you, too.” You gave him a small smile. “I mean, you know this place better than anyone, right? All the ins and outs? And from what Sydney told me, you redid this entire place. Right?” 

“Yeah, I did.” Carmen nodded. Fuck, he kept staring at your lips, he didn’t mean to, he was just… he was distracted. 

“So, we can all meet if you want, or I can do it one at a time.” You pulled your pen out of your notebook, looking at him with a gentle smile. It had Carmen’s heart racing. “I just have a few questions about the vision.” 

“The vision?” Carmen repeated, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat. 

“Yeah, the vision.” You smiled. “Just… tell me about this place. Tell me about you.” You slid into the chair across from him. 

Carmen wiped his hands on his pants, turning to look at the doors, hoping someone would come to his rescue. He wasn’t good at talking, especially not to pretty girls, especially about himself. Still, he couldn’t leave you sitting there. He’d hired you after all, and you were here to help him. So he sat down across from you, hoping you didn’t see the way his knee bounced under the table, hoping you couldn’t hear how his heart pounded. 

“So, Carmen Berzatto,” You grinned, every syllable of his name rolling off your tongue so sweetly, Carmen was sure he was going to faint. “Tell me about The Bear. Why did you start it?”

“Well, it was The Beef before. And-And my parents owned it, then my brother Mikey did…” Carmen started, watching the way you scribbled, eyes flickering to him with a small smile.

“Hello!” You called, pushing through the back door. They’d given you the code a week ago, so you didn’t have to wait or pound on the front door until someone took mercy and let you in. “It’s content day!” You sang, cheery and bright. 

Carmen could hear the pretty trill of your voice, trickling down the hall and into the kitchen. Tina smirked, watching the way he stopped, turning to look at you, blush rising under his white shirt. “Hey, Jeff,” Tina smirked, his head snapping to her. “Your girl’s here.” 

The staff had been teasing Carmen relentlessly about how smitten he was with you. Something he’d been so reluctant to do, he now looked forward to. Carmen swore it was because of your work. You had taken them from the measly six hundred followers they’d had since they started the account in twenty-eleven to six thousand, strategic posts and tags and tagging a few buzz accounts that were Chicago foodies. Business had gone up, reservations filling slowly. Followers poured in from TikTok, from the reels, from the posts. One tag from a micro Chicago influencer had brought in a good chunk and was still, all because of a photo with the pretty light features and the dessert. 

“Where’s the Bear?” You grinned, passing Sydney, camera in hand, bag slung over your shoulder. You pushed open Carmen’s office, dropping your bag in there. He’d told you that you could keep your things in there, since you didn’t have a locker, of course- and not at all because that meant he’d see you before you left. 

“He’s in here, baby!” Tina called, smirking at Carmen. 

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head, a deep breath to keep him from looking so flushed. It worked for a moment, of course, until you rounded the corner. All bright smiles and fuck, you smelled so good. Camren wanted to drown himself in your perfume. “Good morning, Bear.” You beamed. 

Carmen grinned, cheeks heating with every step you took forward. “Mornin’.” He muttered, looking at the clock. 

“It’s content day.” You grinned, shaking your camera lightly. “Tell me you got something good for me, Chef. What's the special this week?” 

“A lamb tenderloin with a gorgonzola sauce served over pasta- house made, of course.” Carmen answered. 

“Of course.” You repeated with a tiny grin. You turned on your camera, taking a test shot, before you looked at Carmen carefully. “Ready whenever you are, Chef.” 

Carmen bit back his own grin, clearing his throat lightly. “How do I start it? The same as last time?” 

“Yep.” You nodded, pressing the camera to your eyes. “Tell me your name, name of the restaurant, and then just this week's special.” 

“On your mark.” Carmen nodded, picking up his clean utensil. 

“On yours.” You laughed. “I’m already recording.” 

Carmen spoke to the camera easily, trying to stay trained on the lens and not at you. How you’d grin and nod encouragingly at him, zooming in closer as he chopped, seasoned, pulled the already prepared and finished product out of the oven. 

Richie crossed his arms, leaning against the wall next to Sugar, lips pursed knowingly. “I know you’re thinkin’ the same shit as me.” 

Sugar hummed. “That Carmen’s into her?” 

“Way fuckin’ into her.” Richie grinned, watching as Carmen blushed, grinning back at you, genuine and a little shy at your compliment. 

“Fifty bucks says he doesn’t make a move.” Sugar looked at Richie. 

Richie snorted, scoffing with a shake of his head. “Alright. I’ll take your bet. I say he does.” 

“Get ready to be out of fifty dollars, Cousin.” Sugar said smugly. “This is Carmy we’re talking about. Not Mikey. Carmen’s not gonna make a move on her.” 

“Eh, not so quick, my dear, Natalie. Carmen’s changed a little since this place.” Since the horrendous freezer incident with Claire. “He really likes her too, look at ‘em.” Richie nodded, watching as Carmen held the spoon out for you, blushing when your hand touched his to take it, groaning before smothering him in compliments. Tina looked at Richie, amused and grinning from across the room. 

“Carmen will seal the deal. It’ll be last fuckin’ minute and it will be a mess, because it’s fuckin’ Carmen, but… I believe in him.” Richie nodded. 

Natalie snorted. “I genuinely hope you’re right, Cousin.” She looked at Carmen with a small smile, watching the way he looked at you, eyes cutting like he was being so cool about keeping his feelings underwraps. “I really do.” 

That night, Carmen lied in bed, scrolling through his footage from the day, seeing the video pop up from @/thebearchicago. Set to classical music, snobby and dramatic, the cuts, Carmen’s voice laid over describing the meal for the week, and a particularly good close up of his hands cutting the onions fiercely. Carmen was shocked to see the number of likes… the number of comments flooding in. 

“the cameraman knew exactly what they were doing lmao”

“New necklace available!!!” 

“I will give you my vital organs and let you chop them up like that if you let me watch chef please” 

“What the fuck?” Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head, scrolling through the comments. He clicked to the main page of the restaurant, seeing you were just a few away from ten thousand followers. Fuck… Sydney was fucking right. You were good. 

Carmen’s face fell, mind racing and screaming with the reminder that you were only there for a few more days. He’d only hired your for two months- two glorious fucking months. You seemed… permanent now. Like he couldn’t imagine you not coming in on Tuesdays and Thursdays and after three on Fridays. You were a staple there. The staff loved you, you were good, and-

And Carmen really liked you. Liked having you around. Looked forward to talking to you. To get the chance to lean over your shoulder as an excuse to touch you when you showed him a preview of a post. Or when you’d send him cute text messages, a funny comment attached, your text reading: “you’re a hit, bear! they love you!” 

It was like you could read his mind, your contact flashing across the screen at him. 

To: Carmen 

‘told you this would be a good one! the fans love you berzatto!!!’ 

Carmen grinned, the faint twinge of a blush on his face. He could feel his heart racing, fingers dancing over the keyboard, and worst of all- he could hear Mikey’s fucking voice in the back of his head. A nagging tone repeating over and over and over, “Let it rip, Bear! Don’t be such a pussy! Ask her out!” 

Carmen looked at his screen, fingers typing out the message, a short, less than smooth invite to make you a special thank you dinner and his place- a date. He hoped you picked up on it. Heat hammering in his chest, he could feel his chest tighten, ribs knitting together uncomfortably, stomach twisting in the worst way. 

So, Carmen did what he always did. 

From: Carmen 

‘Never doubted you. Thank you. The video was great.’ 

He watched as the blue sent, the delivered turning into seen, and followed by your thumbs up over the text. Carmen put his phone on the table, lying back on his pillow, but he couldn’t sleep. His stomach still turned, unsettled with regret. 

“Oh! Marcus stop!” You gasped, Carmen’s head turning at the sound of your voice. “You didn’t need to do all of this!” 

“Yeah, I did.” Marcus beamed. Carmen turned the corner, seeing a beautifully piped cake there, candles and icing cursive that read “thank you!” in the middle of the buttercream. “You’re cool and you got us on the map, girl. Plus, we’re gonna miss you.” 

“Yeah,” Sydney nodded, holding a small balloon that said that exact phrase on it. “We will miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you guys.” You grinned, hugging them both tightly. “This has been my favorite job so far. You guys have been so nice. Way nicer than a lot of these assholes around here.” You grinned. 

Richie stood on the wall, foot tapping, eyes darting back from you to Carmen. He could see his cousin’s stuttering movements, hesitant and careful, before retreating back into himself. C’mon, Carm, fuckin’ do it, Richie thought, shaking his head. Carmen wouldn’t though, wouldn’t let himself be happy. Richie took a deep breath, head shaking with annoyance. 

“Goddammit, Berzatto,” Richie muttered, pushing off the wall. “You know, sweetheart, it’s been so great having you. Seriously, you blew us all away.” Richie said, walking towards you. 

You smiled. “Thanks, Richie. I really appreciate it.” 

“And you know what, we want to really show how much we appreciate you.” Richie’s eyes cut to Natalie, a silent plea to help him out. “I had a cancellation for this evening, and I would love for you to come instead. Let us really cook for you, give you the whole experience. No bill, of course. All on the house, for you, my dear.” 

“Oh, I-I couldn’t let you guys do that.” You shook your head politely, eyes cutting to Carmen’s. 

“No-No, please.” Carmen nodded, finally speaking. Richie sighed silently in relief. “It would be great actually. Please?” 

You felt your heart melt, nodding softly. Before you could even reply, Richie was stepping up again. “And you know what? You gotta do one last post for us, right? The big chef spotlight one. The, uh, c’mon, Sydney what am I lookin’ for here?” 

“Oh, the one about the staff spotlights?” Sydney asked. 

“That’s the one. See, that’s it. And you’ve done everyone except the big boss.” Richie pointed at Carmen, ignoring the way the younger man’s face fell. 

“I didn’t get one-” Fak started, Richie shoving him out of the way. 

“You gotta end with Carmy, and it's funny because it’s gonna be real slow tonight anyways. Wednesday, ya know? And I think what better way to experience the night, really craft that staff spotlight thing, than with Carmen. The two of you, have dinner and get to talk.” Richie knew it was rocky, not at all smooth, but it was the best he could do. 

“What? Cousin, what are you-” 

“-No, you’re right, Richie.” Sugar added, stepping towards Carmen, and cutting him off. “And Carm, you were saying you wanted to see everything in action for yourself. You do the customer experience so you make sure everything’s good, and we’ll serve you both dinner. All the stops.” 

“How’s that sound?” Richie clapped his hands together, nodding at Tina, who grinned. 

“Jeff, it would be really nice to make sure we can work without your instructions. A good night for it too.” Tina added. 

“Yeah, and Sydney’s got it.” Richie nudged the girl beside him. 

“Totally, Carm- uh, Chef. I’ve got it.” Sydney nodded, catching on to Richie’s glare at her. 

Carmen felt like he could melt into the floor, face red and palms sweaty. His ears were ringing, tongue swelled thick in his mouth. You looked over at him with a small smile. “I mean, that does sound really nice. If-If it’s ok with you guys, you don’t have to-” 

“-Oh no,” Richie shook his head, walking over to Carmen to clap him on the shoulders. “We insist, don’t we, cousin?” Richie laughed, leaning down to Carmen. “Don’t fuckin’ stand there like a jagoff, say somethin’.” He whispered. 

“Yeah.” Carmen said, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. “It’s, uh, yeah. That-That sounds great.” 

“Wonderful.” Richie beamed. “Six o’clock sounds good for you kids? Give you enough time to get it together.” Richie looked from you to Carmen. “Maybe for some of us to take a shower.” 

Carmen could feel the heat rise from his neck to his cheeks, covering him in a furious blush. You giggled. “Definitely gives me time to get a blow out.” You laugh. “See you at six then?” 

“It’s a date.” Natalie added, practically bouncing on her toes behind Carmen. 

Carmen glared at her, before turning back to you. “Yeah, I-I’ll see you then.” 

[micahwrites16]

My Love, My Home - Anakin Skywalker

Note: While writing this I imagined y/n as Padme in AotC, but not actually Padme? Like she’s Senator and she’s with Anakin on Naboo, him protecting y/n, but you can picture her however you want. I don’t specifically explain the circumstances of why they’re together, but it’s along the lines of the scene where Anakin confesses, except I write it… a bit differently. Hopefully you understand, lol. It’ll make sense the further you read. Enjoy!

( Also, please bear with me, I’ve never written anything close to this before. Don’t be shy to comment and let me know what you think of it! I’m always open to suggestions. <3 )

TW: really sappy smut, first times!

5.6k words

I always imagined that love was something you earned; something you had to deserve.

Something that I would never be worthy of truly receiving.

And as I watch the Padawan sitting on the velvety, soft sheets of my bed, I feel as though I am shattering my own heart with every second I allow him in my gaze. It’s as if he is reaching his calloused, worn hands into my chest and brushing his fingertips against the rapid beating of it. One more millimeter and he could crush my life without a second thought. And even though he was the one who tore apart my skin, it was his hand preventing me from bleeding out. Sometimes I can’t help but feel grateful, which is a very clear sign that I lost my sanity long ago.

I am in front of him and I do not pull away. I don’t want to.

I have never felt fear quite like it.

Although Anakin’s hand is not quite in my chest, it might as well be. A measly twelve inches separates us, his eyes searching into me farther than I have managed to explore myself. His lips move as words leave them, but I don’t know what. I’m embarrassed to admit that the sight of someone’s lips can distract me so easily. I know those aren’t just anyone’s lips, however.

“Y/n?”

My eyes snap back up to his, his eyebrows scrunched softly in confusion as he waits for me to answer.

“Hm?”

“Force,” Anakin laughs and shakes his head, resting his elbows on his knees. The laugh isn’t of amusement, that I can tell. “You aren’t even listening to me.”

“What? Yes, I am. I just have a lot on my mind. Keep talking. I promise I’ll listen,” I reassure him. He laughs again, the sound not warming me like it usually would. His head falls into his hands, his teeth shining as he smiles. “Anakin,” I urge, “come on. I’m listening, I swear.”

“Are you?” He turns his head to look up at me, his smile gone and something swirling madly in his eyes.

“Yes.”

“Alright. Then, what did I say?”

I pause for a moment, searching my brain and hoping that I subconsciously picked up his words. It’s not that I was ignoring him on purpose, that’s never the case. I was just preoccupied with other strange things happening inside of me. “You know what, never mind. It was nothing, anyways.” Anakin stands up quickly from my bed and I rise with him. “It’s late and you should sleep. I’ll be in the bedroom across from you.”

“No,” I grab his arm softly through his Jedi robe as he moves to walk away. I’m not letting him run away this time. “Don’t do that, Ani. Just tell me what you were saying. I can tell it’s important.”

His eyes lock on where I am touching him, his lips parting slightly. He seems frozen, lost in something that I cannot grasp. Suddenly, Anakin’s eyebrows furrow again, ripping his arm away from my hand. His eyes meet mine again, fire and so many other emotions stirring in them. “No. You don’t do that, y/n.” Confusion washes over me, the slightest bit of hurt emanating from his face and bouncing off my heart. His voice quiets, a darkness along with a familiar softness coating his words. “I am in agony and you don’t even seem to realize.” Anakin steps closer to me, his neck craned so he can meet my eyes. He’s so close and I am frozen. I feel his breath against my lips, his gaze against mine.

“Ani..”

“Can you not see how I am feeling? How I am practically begging on my knees for you to even look at me?” His voice is so low and I think my brain is short-circuiting and force, all it would take is the slightest movement for his nose to brush against mine. “You are the one instance I allow myself to feel anything at all, y/n. I couldn’t stop myself if I tried. And every moment that I am not with you, the worse my agony gets. It’s as if I am being torn apart. You are in my very soul, tormenting me. Every beat of my heart is throbbing for you, and I feel helpless.” He sounds so wounded, so seeking. “What can I do? I will do anything you ask.”

I am not usually at a loss for words. The thoughts in my head are cloudy and I feel dazed, almost as if my brain is trying to protect me from hearing what he is saying. I would rather die than allow that. Before Anakin, I had never let myself get attached to anyone or anything. I have duties that force me to be strong, independent. But he has sucked me in, and if I were to rid myself of him, he would take a large part of my person with him.

He looks into me like he’s searching for something, anything, and the pounding in my chest is increasing with every second of it. How are we both so blind to each other? He says that I do not see his feelings for me, yet he doesn’t see what I feel for him, either.

“I will get on my knees and beg for you, for any part of you, if that’s what you would like. Any part of you that you allow me to have I will worship. I already do.”

I have never felt the need to touch him more than I do now. I want to give him everything he’s asking for and more. I want to give everything that I have, everything I am, to him. I’ve been wanting that for far too long.

But I can’t.

“Anakin, we can’t do this,” I say quietly. I want to, I scream internally. I want to so, badly. “I’m Senator and you’re about to be a Jedi. We would ruin everything.” Nothing in his expression changes and I feel as though I am not doing a great job of convincing him, or myself.

“So you do feel something.” The corner of his mouth twitches just the slightest bit and I immediately curse myself for giving him hope for something that I can’t give him. “I don’t care about any of that. We can keep it between us and now that I know you feel anything, even the slightest bit for me, I will not stop. I won’t be able to. I will die trying to earn anything you will give me.”

He hesitantly reaches his hand to cup my the side of my face, his thumb stroking softly over my cheek. Am I dying?

“Don’t hide from what you feel. Don’t hide from me, because I cannot take it. I do not deserve you, I know that. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to. Don’t allow stupid, worthless rules to get in between this. In between us.”

Any resolve that I had before has now been thrown out the window. His voice is so gentle and pleading and an exact mirror of something that has been lurking inside of me since the last time I can remember. His thumb that is caressing my face is bleeding into me, filling my blood with a mixture of overwhelming fire, softness, and need.

“Anakin..” I close my eyes, fighting off my desires the best that I can. If I give in, everything will be destroyed.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, y/n. I will not let myself be your ruination.”

I want to fall. I want to lose myself in his deep, promising, dark blue eyes and never resurface. The longer I feel his touch the more I know that I am gone and I am not coming back.

And as I come to the realization that I will never be safer than where I am right now, that I will never be with someone who makes my heart pound as much as Anakin does, I lean closer.

I’m so close to him that I can see every individual blonde eyelash, every slight and rapid movement of his eyes as they flicker from my eyes to my lips. The only thing I see is Anakin. The only thing I know is Anakin.

Everything around us is still, as though even time has paused for us. The only sound is our soft breathing hitting each other’s lips, the crickets halting their chirping and leaving us in a loud bubble of quiet. He brushes his nose against mine, my breath hitching in my throat and my chest rising and falling harder with every second. Every action from him is small and hesitant, testing how I react.

My hand reaches forward, resting on the plane of his chest. He responds by snaking his fingers into my hair, tilting my head just the slightest bit, and causing my lips to brush against his just the smallest amount. A warm tingle flows through my body as I meet his eyes again. This time, there’s a question in them.

As an answer, I seal my lips against his.

I’m enveloped in a world of tenderness and warmth that I have never known before. As he just barely moves his lips against mine, I feel my heart shifting inside of me, flowing through the movements of my mouth. The first few moments are gentle, discovering. The next few are devouring.

He kisses me as if I was the last thread of life he was holding on to. As if I was the only light in a galaxy of darkness. In a planet of complete, utter beauty and peace, I have never felt so overpowered and overwhelmed. His lips are soft, searching into the deepest part of my soul.

He was wrong. I am not tormenting him, he is tormenting me.

Anakin tilts my head further, his tongue tracing my bottom lip and begging for entrance. I greedily let him in, wanting him to know places of myself that no one else has ever discovered. He sweeps in, tasting, caressing, and destroying me from the inside out. I trail my hand from his chest into his hair, my tongue now tangling with his, begging for as much of him as he now has of me.

A low groan rumbles through his throat, and I feel a fire inside of me that I have never known so intense than at this moment. His other hand grabs my hip, both of us stumbling back so he’s against the wall.

Anakin, Anakin, Anakin.

Anakin is now all that I know, and now that I have him, I don’t think I will ever be able to let go.

He kisses my lips until they’re swollen and pink. Until the room is no longer filled with silence, but the sound of his soft rasps and my small whimpers that I cannot stop from leaving.

Anakin’s hands are everywhere. My waist, the curve of my hips, my thighs, my hair, the sides of my face. It’s like he’s taking every bit of me insatiably, almost like he’s afraid I won’t let him do this again. This is all I’ve ever craved, Ani. This is everything I will ever need.

He groans again as I nip at his bottom lip, the sound stirring something deep inside of me. A fire is burning, and I don’t think it will ever be stopped. His lips move from mine to my jaw and down to my neck, sucking and tasting and torturing. I press my chest against him, needing to feel more. Needing more.

“Ani,” I moan, his mouth latching onto my collarbone. He lifts his head, his lips just as puffy as mine. He’s so, so, heartbreakingly beautiful.

“Tell me what you need, y/n. I will give you anything you’ve ever wanted. Anything at all.” His breathing is heavy, his chest rising and falling harshly. “You have every,” he kisses under my ear, “single,” he kisses my throat, “inch of me. I am forever yours.”

His pretty words fuel me like nothing else. I’m sinking, falling into an endless abyss of emotion and ruin, of beginning and end and nothing at all, but everything at the same time.

“Everything. All of you,” I beg, and I can’t seem to care that I do. For no man, for no person, I beg. But Anakin Skywalker makes me want and crave things stronger than I ever have before.

My tone isn’t lost on him, his head dropping to rest on my shoulder. “You can’t say things like that, y/n. You destroy me.”

“I mean it. Don’t reject me now, Anakin.” My voice drops to a whisper, vulnerability hitting me harder than I would like to admit, “Please.” I am yearning for a touch that can only be fulfilled by him, and by the madness spiraling in his eyes, I can tell he feels the same way. I brush my lips against his, communicating something that I can’t say with words.

His head rises from my shoulder, his eyes softer than I have ever seen them before. They’re bright and shining with a million unspoken promises that I could adventure in forever. Comparing them to the moons and the stars that surround us would be an understatement of the complete and torturous beauty that they hold, and the fact that they are focused on me makes my intestines swirl and my stomach warm.

“I will never hurt you,” Anakin breathes, his fingers tracing the edge of my jaw. “I adore you more than you could ever imagine.”

My breathing comes out shaky, my legs trembling softly. I have never wanted to hide as much as I do now, to shy away from the intrusion of Anakin searching into me so deeply. I am scared to my core.

But, I also don’t think my heart has ever been in safer hands before.

“I believe you,” I murmur against his lips. Something passes through his face, an emotion deeper than I can understand, yet.

“Will you let me take care of you, then?”

“Yes.”

Anakin immediately scoops me into his strong arms, holding me like I am glass in his hands. He kisses my forehead tenderly, walking over to my bed and dropping me on it softly. I watch intently as he steps back, me following his every move as he works to take off his belt. His eyes are burning into my skin, but I don’t care. I am mesmerized by every inch of that he uncovers. He has sucked me in and now I am forever locked in the depths of Anakin Skywalker’s heart.

He unravels the many layers of his Jedi Robe until the tanned, sculpted plane of his chest is revealed. I drink him in like I am dying of thirst. I can’t bring myself to be ashamed of my eagerness. How can someone be so perfect? I would be irritated if I weren’t absolutely overcome with adoration and desire for this boy.

He walks forward, climbing onto the bed and hovering over me. I absorb every detail of his bare skin, the small, old scars that litter his chest and abs, the newer ones that stand out more than the others. Every detail is beautiful.

“If you keep staring at me like that y/n, this will be over before it even starts.”

My eyes snap back up to his, my cheeks warming at his insinuation and the fact that I was so obvious. “I’m sorry,” I mutter. My stomach squirms uncomfortably, a mixture of scorching heat and fluttering butterflies making me blush further.

His lips curl into a familiar smile, full of soft amusement. “Don’t be nervous,” he says gently, reading my expression. “I’m just as anxious as you. More, even,” He connects our lips again, the heat inside of me flaring. “I’ll make you feel good, I promise,” he assures me and rests his hands on the side of my hips. “You are everything I have ever dreamed of.”

I bring his lips against mine again, this time more urgently. I need him so badly I feel like I am going to burst into a million pieces. His hands eagerly explore every curve of my body, his fingers fumbling with the zipper on the back of my black dress, revealing that he might truly be as nervous as I am. “Is this okay?” Anakin asks as he slowly unzips me.

“More than okay,” I murmur against his lips, greedily attaching my mouth back to his. I touch every bit of his naked skin, feeling every possible thing that I can. Anakin pulls away as he slips my dress down, his eyes devouring me as more skin is uncovered.

“Force, you are so beautiful. So unbelievably perfect.”

I shiver as he brushes his fingertips against my collarbone, down the valley in between my breasts, across the rest of my torso, and pausing on my thighs. His eyes lock onto my black lace panties, and the amount of heat in his expression makes me want to run away and climb on top of him at the same time. His pink lips are parted and there’s a small blush that lines his cheeks and neck, causing him to look more ethereal than he usually does.

Anakin leans his head down, gently sucking on the skin of my lower abdomen. I gasp softly, my fingers running through his short curls as he continues mapping my skin with his lips. He looks up at me as he slides his hand beneath my back, finding the clasp of my bra. I nod, him immediately unclasping it and slipping the straps off of my shoulders.

I see the exact moment his eyes turn from bright, shining blue into pools of darkness as he looks at my completely bare skin. He curses under his breath, the sound hitting me deep in my core. His lips quickly move from my abdomen to my breasts, locking onto the sensitive skin of my nipple. I feel as though I could burst right then and there.

“Akakin,” I whimper, the stimulation he’s giving me affecting me more than I thought was possible. He kisses and sucks and worships me with his mouth, every flick of his tongue and movement of his mouth sending me higher than I’ve ever been. An overwhelming wave of need washes over me and out of pure instinct my hips push upwards, causing me to grind my softness against his hardness. He groans abruptly and I decide then and there that I will be trying to earn that sound from him for the rest of my life.

He starts grinding his hips against mine as he torments my sensitive skin with his lips, noises leaving both of our mouths relentlessly.

More, more, more, I need more.

It’s almost as if he hears my thoughts, him pulling away just for a moment to fumble with his trousers. He doesn’t even bother unbuttoning them, instead ripping them open and causing a couple of the buttons to fly off. Neither of us cares. I pull his lips back to mine, helping him pull them down. He quickly throws them across the room, leaving both him in only his briefs and me in only my panties.

“Need you,” he rasps, “so badly it hurts.”

“Then take me, Anakin. I’m all yours.”

“Oh, fuck,” he whines as his hips buck against mine.

I’m on fire. I’m engulfed in flames, my body pulsing and thrumming with desire that has been boiling inside of me for far too long. I reach for his briefs, pulling them down quickly.

Oh, Force.

I must have said that out loud. A grin appears on his lips as he watches me stare at him, absolutely dumbfounded. He must have been sculpted by a god. Sparks of straight lava go off in my lower stomach,something inside of me tightening. Despite that, worry shoots through me.

I can’t handle that.

“You can take it. I know you can. I’ll be so gentle, I promise, y/n,” Anakin says softly. How can I possibly burn even hotter than before? “I’ll take such good care of you.”

Anakin’s POV:

I have never been in so much pain–so much pleasure–one time in my life. Desire is coursing through my blood, causing every inch of my body to ache. To ache for her.

As I hook my digits in her panties, I watch every shift in her expression. If there were even the slightest bit of doubt or regret, I would never forgive myself for making her feel that. As much as I have dreamt of this, fantasized about every small thing we could do, the last thing I would want to happen is for me to make her uncomfortable. I couldn’t stand myself if I did.

But as I look into her eyes, I don’t even see the slightest bit of hesitation. I see desire that is just as intense as mine, passion, and trust.

I pull her down her panties slowly, forgetting how to breathe. I’ve forgotten how to function.

So insanely perfect.

During the nights when want coursed through my mind, when I would think of her at the latest hours and in the naughtiest, sinful ways, I never could have imagined her so breathtaking. I was never even close.

I must be in heaven.

Hell, likely.

Her chest rises and falls quickly, the sight of her full breasts and peaked nipples sending me into complete overdrive. I trail my eyes lower, making sure to drink in every bit of skin. I spread her legs slowly, my gaze locking on to her bare core.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Hold it together.

I run my hands up her thighs, not looking away from the sight of her open wide for me. For me. I kiss the inside of her thigh, moving closer and closer to where I yearn to be.

“So pretty. So fucking pretty,” I murmur, kissing higher and higher.

“Anakin- Ani, please.” She hooks her fingers in my hair and I almost lose it. Her voice is so pleading, so soft, so full of heat. Please. She could ask me anything like that and I would do it. If she asked me to kill a whole army of men I would do it and I’d do it gladly. Fuck the Jedi code, she is what I obey now.

“Please what, y/n?” I ask lowly as she pulls me back up to her face, my body hovering directly over hers. My nose brushes against hers, our breaths mingling together. I can feel the heat radiating from her core against me and I genuinely have no idea how I haven’t completely lost it yet.

“You. I need you, now, Ani.” She grinds her hips up against mine, her drenched cunt brushing against my cock. I make a broken noise, my head falling against her shoulder. I’m gone. Absolutely gone.

“Anything. I’ll give you anything,” I pant. I force myself to look at her, softening my eyes. “You’re sure you want to do this? I wasn’t- this wasn’t what I was planning to happen. You don’t have to do this, y/n.”

I’ve never wanted anything more. Not only to have all of her but to give her all of me. I’ve been hers for a long time. I can wait longer for her to be mine if that’s what she needs. I’ll wait forever. From the moment I met y/n, I didn’t belong to myself. I belonged to her. My heart hasn’t been my own for quite a while and nothing would change whether she wanted to do this with me or not.

“I want to. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” She kisses my cheek and I practically melt into a puddle in her hands. I am at her complete mercy.

My forehead drops against hers, my hand moving to rest on her hip. I let out a shaky breath, positioning myself up to her core, but not allowing myself to touch her yet.

“Tell me to stop at whatever time, okay? If it hurts I want you to tell me to stop.” She nods and kisses me softly, my heart beating so fast I’m sure she can hear it.

“I trust you more than anyone,” she whispers against my lips and kisses my shoulder, and I would probably fall to my knees by the sweetness of it if I were standing.

I look down at where our hips are inches apart, grabbing my base and sliding myself up at down her heat, both of us shivering deeply at the feeling.

This is going to be over far too fast.

I meet her eyes one final time, looking for any indication she wants to stop. All I see is an intense look of heat and adoration, that I’m sure is on my face just the same.

I line myself up, unable to look away from our hips so closely together. I find a hard time believing this is real, even though I’m feeling everything so intensely. Being here, being like this with y/n might be the death of me. I’d be lucky to die like this. I’d thank the god that allowed me to be so close to her, only if it were for one time.

Both of us take one deep breath as I shift forward, taking that final movement to push myself all the way into her.

And then my world is shattered.

Y/n’s POV:

Anakin falls forward, his forehead resting against mine as he connects us completely. A choked noise falls from Anakin’s mouth, a noise so wonderful I would do anything to hear it again. I hold on to him like I’m dying because I think that I am.

He doesn’t move, letting me adjust to the new feeling. The truth is, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to adjust to this. I feel so incredibly, overwhelmingly filled.

The first thing I feel is fullness, the next, sharp, stinging pain.

It’s a kind of pain that I would go through over and over again.

“Are you all right?” Anakin asks, his voice so full of worry it makes my insides go even crazier than before.

I take a deep breath, the pain slowly subsiding into something else. Something more intense. “Yes,” I plead, “you can move.”

Anakin stays still for another moment, before pulling all the way out of me and then plunging back in. My face twists, a completely indescribable feeling hitting me so hard I lose my breath. My mouth opens into a small “o” shape, small whimpers leaving my mouth as he moves slowly.

He’s being so gentle I could cry if I weren’t on the brink of exploding into a million small pieces.

He brings his lips down to mine, searing me in a kiss that could end worlds, create entire galaxies. As he continues to move, the pain fades away, bleeding into pleasure so extreme it’s like he’s sucking my soul out of my body and pushing it back in over and over again.

The noises that fall from his mouth I’m sure were sent from heaven just like the rest of him. Some of them are deep and guttural and sometimes when my body tightens around his, a small, whiny sound leaves his lips, each and every one causing pleasure to spike through me.

“You feel so f-fucking perfect. So tight. I can’t- fuck,” he groans loudly as my cunt clenches around him. It’s like my body is trying to trap him inside of me, like it’s trying to prevent him from ever leaving. He’s practically molding himself into me with how much I’m being stretched, my walls constricting and tightening with every deep thrust.

“Ani, so- so full,” I moan, my fingers hooking into his short curls, my eyes not being able to leave the sight of him thrusting in and out of me.

“I know, I know. You’re taking me so well, doing such a good job, y/n.”

If I didn’t know for sure that Anakin was a virgin before this, I wouldn’t have ever believed he was. It’s like he knows exactly what spots to hit, how hard to go, and what will make me spiral.

Full is now not the right word. Complete is.

I watch his face as he looks at where his cock is impaling me over and over again, a complete look of awe on his face. His lips are parted and his eyebrows are scrunched, everything indicating that he’s in just as intense a state of pleasure that I am, maybe even more so.

His hand snakes in between our bodies, his thumb reaching my clit and pressing softly. My eyes squeeze shut, sparks going off and short-circuiting my brain. “Ani- Anakin,” I cry.

“Being so g-good for me. It’s like you were fucking made to take me, y/n,” Anakin groans as he slams his cock into me so deeply I feel like I’m being split in half. My eyes roll back, my back arching instinctively, pulling a sound that’s almost a whimper out of Anakin. “Beautiful, so beautiful.”

My pussy clenches around him so tightly I’m almost worried it hurt him, but he makes the loudest, most broken noise that I’ve heard come out of him yet.

“I- I- y/n, I can’t hold on. You feel too good, it’s too much.” His face falls into the crook of my neck, my arms cradling his head softly. He thrusts into me relentlessly while still keeping his movements gentle. I moan loudly into his ear, something in my lower stomach tightening and tightening. “Keep making those pretty noises, y/n. Please.”

The almost begging tone in his voice causes my heart to swell in my chest. He sounds so beautiful. I push my hips up to meet his, creating friction that causes both of us to let out excruciatingly loud moans. “An- Anakin-” His eyes roll back and his hips stutter, his thrusts becoming desperate.

“Fuck, fuck,” He hisses, “you’re squeezing me so fucking tight. Doing so, so amazing.” He rubs his thumb faster against my clit, my mind going completely blank. His groans turn into whimpers as his thrusts get sloppier, him clutching onto my hips so tightly they would probably leave bruises in the morning. I don’t think he realizes it, since he would immediately stop if he did, but I want to have marks. I want to have a reminder of what’s happening right now.

I feel this unexplainable tingling in my abdomen, the pleasure becoming so immense it’s like I could physically snap.

“Come for me, y/n. Let me feel you, okay? You’re safe with me,” he says softly, and the words make the rubberband inside of me tighten. I pull his lips to mine, both of our moans mixing. And as I wrap one of my legs around his back, he slides so deep into me it’s like I can feel him from my face to the bottom of my toes.

“Ani, I’m gonna- I think-” I cry out, sparks of white flashing behind my eyelids and my toes curling.

“Y/n, y/n, y/n,” Anakin pants as he pushes into me one final time.

And then, the world erupts around us.

My eyes squeeze shut, my fingers tightening in Ani’s hair as he slumps on top of me, his face nuzzling into my neck. My mind goes fuzzy, everything turning into a blur around me as I hold on to him for dear life.

Anakin’s body twitches and practically melts into my arms as he fills me to the brim, his hips still moving in and out softly, riding us through our insanely intense highs.

“Anakin, oh, force,” I whimper.

“I know. I know,” he mumbles into my neck. He presses soft kisses on my throat and collarbone, rubbing my hips with his thumbs softly. He pulls back after letting us catch our breath, a sudden look of worry on his face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“It was perfect, Ani. Don’t worry, okay? You were so, so perfect,” I reassure him, kissing his jaw.

I notice the hint of vulnerability in his eyes and I bring my lips to his softly, wanting to wish away every bit of his insecurity. “You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” Anakin whispers against my lips,

“You’re my love. My home.”

Note: I really hope this isn’t super insanely boring, lol. This was my first time ever writing smut or anything like this at all, so don’t go too hard on me! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! If anyone has any suggestions on things you want me to write, I’d be happy to do it. <3

[nburkhardt]

Omegaverse but most importantly oblivious Dustin, enjoy!

Steve smells.

Not bad, just different and Dustin can’t figure out what it is that his best friend turned older brother has done differently recently.

Sure, the upside down hasn’t been around for a good while now and Steve moved out in an apartment with Robin and Eddie. The Byers moved back to Hawkins recently and everyone is finally together again.

It’s been good, really good.

But Steve’s scent has changed and Dustin’s stuck on it.

Which shouldn’t bother him but it is! Steve’s scent has always been his favorite, a perfect mix of cinnamon and maple, it fit perfectly with their ma’s scent of vanilla and nutmeg. (Their home smells like a bakery, it’s heaven. Especially with his own scent of chocolate and coffee) So he’s curious okay?!

The new scent is more woodsy and it does work well with Steve’s original scent.

There’s a snap of fingers and Dustin blinks a few times before seeing an amused Steve standing in front of him, “cool, you finally joining the conversation again?”

Dustin rolls his eyes, “I was listening”

“Yeah, sure, Henderson. ‘Cause that look you had was exactly like the one you had that led us trapped under the mall,” Steve raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms, “so mind sharing?”

Dustin shrugs, “Fine, I noticed your scent. It’s changed, but not bad it’s really nice actually. I was just trying to figure out why”

The rest of the room -Eddie, Robin and his Ma- grows quiet and Steve looks at him confused. And it makes him realize how weird that is to say out loud, actually. But it’s true regardless.

“Uh, huh.” Steve blinked at him before he looked over towards Eddie, “Dust, man, where’ve you been?”

“What?”

“My scent has been like this for four months, since my bonding? It’s really grown with my pregnancy too” Steve explained slowly as he made his way back to sit with Eddie, “You were in the room when we announced this, wasn’t he?”

That makes Dustin’s eyes widen as Eddie tilts his head at him confused before shrugging it off, “maybe he was in the bathroom?”

Dustin looks around shocked as his Ma looks just as confused as Steve, while Robin looks like she’s trying to hold in laughter. Making him even more confused, rubbing his eyes scrunching his face before looking back at Steve.

Steve who’s now practically in Eddie’s lap, Steve who is definitely pulling Eddie’s arms around him and fully relaxing against Eddie. Steve who looks the most content he’s ever looked sitting there with Eddie, letting out a happy purr and the scent of happy omega.

Everything clicks in his brain as Eddie’s scent starts to also pump out the smell he’s been smelling for months off of Steve. A woodsy apple like scent and now his brain is running a marathon to help him realize how oblivious he’s been.

Steve smells like Eddie, and now that he thinks about it, Eddie’s smelt different lately too and it never clicked that it was because They’re mates and -he was definitely in the room when it was announced- he just didn’t take in what was said, was too focused on something else at the time. Dustin feels like an idiot for not remembering his older brother is not only mated but also expecting.

“No- no I was,” He shakes his head, “I’m just oblivious”

~~

Idk I just started writing and had no plan whatsoever other than thinking how funny a thing could start with just ‘Steve smells’ lol. Also I’ll admit it, I’m a little high rn.

Tags aren’t working for me rn sorry to those I’m supposed to tag 🥺

[aritamargarita]

Hey bestie, it’s been a while!! I hope your well💗 I saw requests were open and this idea came to me after watching some old segments. Could you do a love triangle between reader, trish stratus, and Jeff Hardy?☺️

hey bestieee im doing well!!! it's been a while indeed :). hope you're doing well too! so sorry this took a while! BUT THIS REQUEST...i can't explain how good this sounds LMAO I WAS LIKE “AHHHH—“...i may have gotten a little out of hand with the sadness on this one? i also kinda based it off this chart , with jeff as A, reader as B, trish as C. reader’s feelings for trish are conflicting and she kinda doesn’t think they’re real, therefore this is very jeff centered. and also kayfabe compliant lol

you guys can have an imagine..as a treat :3 alexa, pls set the tone for us *lights dim dramatically*

YOU FELT SUFFOCATED whenever they were around. You hate Jeff. You hate Trish. You hate both of them. You hate how close they are and you wish they could never see each other again....but sometimes wishes can’t be granted.

"Trish Stratus..she's just horrible, isn't she?"

Victoria’s voice comes from behind you. She sets a neatly manicured hand onto your right shoulder and leans into your ear. “I mean, just look at them.”

You didn’t want to look and she realizes this. Her hand reaches over to grab your face to forcefully turn it in their direction.

They’re standing there, holding hands and talking to each other with the biggest smiles in the world.

“Doesn’t it just make you sick? They’re rubbing it in your face, [Name].” Victoria says. “If I were you, I’d take that pretty little face….and smash it right against the mat.”

You sigh.

Her words were clearly fueled by hate. This wasn’t advice, this was just because she hated Trish. You don’t think you’ll ever get the reason as to why. Even when you accidentally walked in on one of her meltdowns and she babbled to you about how horrible she was, you were still at a loss.

“Just because you have a vendetta against her doesn’t mean that I do. She’s my—“

“We can see it in your eyes!” Stevie Richards appears from out nowhere, startling you. You’re trying to do your makeup, goddamn it. Why’d they have to come and bother you?

You whip your head around to your right. Stevie’s staring at you with nothing but a grin. He sets his hand on your left shoulder and shakes it lightly.

“C’mon. Everyone, and I mean everyone, knows you have a thing for that Hardy guy! Flower is right. I’m sure they make you sick!

Tch. Yeah, right. The only thing that everyone knows is that him and Trish were madly in love all of a sudden. And now that you think about it, the only thing that makes you sick was Stevie always calling Victoria that cheesy nickname.

“Hardy boy,” You correct. “And I don’t have a thing for him.”

You can see the reflection of the other two in the mirror. They’re not very convinced.

It’s not a thing. It never was a thing, you just think Jeff is pretty neat.

To put it in perspective, Jeff Hardy is someone you can rely on. Jeff Hardy is someone you can consider a hero. You really just think he’s neat for saving your neck a few times when it came to people ganging up on you.

And somehow, you feel like you owe him something in return. Him being with Trish only stalled your returning favor even further.

It’s driving you crazy. You haven’t talked to Jeff in days. All you do is avoid him. In other words, you’ve quit him, gone cold turkey.

Those two were getting closer and closer day by day and you just didn’t understand why.

Trish was your friend, best friend, and hadn’t even told you what was going on. The moment you heard the she kissed him right in the middle of the ring had made you really confused, to say the least.

Somehow, you felt yourself harboring some feelings for her as well. It was strange. You don’t really know why, but when Trish had started to tag with you, save you, (stating that she didn't want to see her friend in trouble), and hung around with you backstage, you started to think about her more often.

Things are difficult with her around. Things are difficult with the both of them around.

It’s the reason why you stopped talking to him and limited your interactions with her. This was for your own sanity, even if it wasn’t working out so well.

It truly is hard to believe you could find yourself in this situation.

Lita would constantly tell you how much Jeff missed you. For someone who was supposed to be “resting“and “healing up” because of her injury, she sure was hanging out backstage a lot more lately.

What makes matters worse is that her and Trish were best friends as well, so you’d occasionally hear her pass along messages. Ugh, you really wish she would stop telling you these things. It only makes you feel worse.

“I think you’re lying, [Name].” Victoria outright says. “You like him, no, love him. And seeing that plastic, fake, no good…” She has to stop herself from getting too wound up, taking a breath. “Seeing her makes you angry, doesn’t it?”

She’s right. You hate that she’s right. It does make you angry, but it makes you more sad than anything. You won’t admit it. You refuse.

“What makes me angry is the both of you trying to wind me up.” You throw your lip gloss to the ground. “Let me clarify. I do not and never will have a thing for Jeff Hardy!”

Perhaps your voice was louder than anticipated because suddenly, the hallway had gotten quiet. You had attracted unwanted attention, including looks from Trish and Jeff.

You take a deep breath. Victoria didn’t even know the whole story, so there’s no reason for you to act like this. As long as she hasn’t caught on about your thoughts about Trish, everything is fine and dandy.

Victoria only lets out a cackle, as does Stevie. They just couldn’t help it! The look on your face was just hilarious and you couldn’t have been anymore obvious with your true intentions about him.

Though you want to ask them what the hell was so funny, you realize there’s nothing you can do to save face, so you just storm off. You don’t think you can ever show your face backstage again after that.

The sound of footsteps behind you cause you to stop. “If the both of you are following me, I swear to god, I’ll—“

“It’s neither.” It’s Trish, all dressed up in her red ring gear. Her and Jeff were both dressed up, actually. “Were they bothering you? I can deal with them if you need.”

You wave your hand. “No, it’s no big deal.” In response, she gives you a smile, one that genuinely makes you feel sick.

There’s suddenly a strange tension in the room as Trish lifts up her hand to bite on her index fingernail. There are little details that you feel like you hadn’t noticed about her before in that moment, irrelevant as it was.

The way she curled her hair was different. Maybe it was the amount of lipgloss she applied, which seemed significantly noticeable.

The look on her face gives you the impression she’s not nervous at all, if anything, she seems a bit gleeful. “…So,” You feel like you already know what’s coming as she speaks up. “…I didn’t know you had a thing for Jeff…?”

There’s a teasing tone behind her voice, which makes you just want to quite literally leave the country and change your name. Dramatic, yes, but you feel like this is too much.

“Jeff is,” You have to pause for a minute, trying to phrase things carefully. “He’s cool. What brought you to that conclusion? I don’t have a thing for him..”

Trish probably couldn’t tell that you were in denial. “For one, your obvious yelling in the hallway. But if you say you don’t, I believe you.”

And speak of the devil, because he starts to come over to you two without a care in the world. He reaches out to hold Trish’s hand and you have to turn your attention anywhere but there.

“Hey, [Name].” Jeff greets. Honestly, he’s happy to see you. It’s been too long since you’ve spoken to him.

“Hi.” You come off bitter, but you do your best to mask any of it with a forced smile.

For some reason, Jeff feels like he’s over the moon, even if you had only greeted him. “How are you doing? Lita told me that you weren’t doing so well.“

“She’s not?” Trish turns over to look at you with a frown. “You aren’t? What’s wrong?”

Fucking Lita, again with this! This is exactly why you wish she’d just be quiet. You found yourself in a really awkward place because of her. “She’s wrong. I’m fine, like way fine.”

Jeff nods. On another note, he smelt like so much paint. If you looked closely enough, it was almost like it was fresh. You point this out in attempt to shift the topic. “You painted yourself again, huh? The colors are nice,”

The compliment you had given him about the colors had made him feel as if he was getting somewhere.

“Yeah. Sooner or later, I’ve gotta paint something on you. Pick any color and I’ll do it. Wherever you want.” He says. “You’re the canvas.”

Trish smiles. “He’s really good at it. But he’s also really good at getting it all over me..” She giggles, looking down at her hand.

There was definitely chemistry and you feel like you don’t belong. It pains you. “Hey, I just noticed. Do you two have a match tonight or something?”

“We do!” Trish chimes. “It’s funny you say that. It’s against Victoria and Stevie Richards. Don’t worry, we’ll kick their butt for you. Speaking of which, I think we have to go to gorilla. Let's go, Jeff.”

“Have a good match.” You wave. They both thank you and leave you be, but you can see them talking on their own as they head down the corridor.

You’re alone with your thoughts once more, that is until a sickeningly sweet voice had made you groan.

“Oh sweet, sweet [Name].” Victoria coos, reaching over to caress your cheek. You swipe her hand away and she laughs. “I think that was so rude. The audacity of him, right? Just showing up with her like that in front of you.”

You just stare at her.

She continues on, knowing that she’s got you right where she wants. “Now that you know we have a match against them...come with us.”

It sounds more like a command than a request and she’s smiling all the while. “Having them lose would make them feel like they’ve lost everything."

Is that really true? No, is that what you really want? You're hesitant. “I don’t know, it seems a little—“

She quickly cuts you off. “You can trust me, [Name]. We’re friends.”

Friends. You’ve heard that word a lot lately. But you feel as if you had no other choice, you had to trust Victoria. So, you end up following her to gorilla in hopes of getting what you want.

When it was your turn, commentary referred to you as something akin to a lost puppy. You were clearly hesitating, taking painfully slow steps down the ramp.

Stevie has to rush back to grab you by the arm and pull you down the ramp a bit faster, which makes you yelp. “Ow, ow, ow! You’re grabbing me too tight—!” He pays no mind to your complaint, instead presenting you to the duo in the ring as if you were a trophy.

Trish and Jeff were confused. Really confused. Why were you out here with them? The two pass whispers amongst each other while Stevie joins Victoria in the ring.

You can’t look them in the eye, so you try and focus on Stevie as he’s the one to start the match with Jeff. As soon as they lock up, you let out a shrill for Stevie.

It almost makes Jeff break it up, so Stevie quickly takes advantage and stiffs him a bit. You lean your head onto the apron. It's going to be a long one..

So far, Victoria and Stevie weren’t doing too well. Trish and Jeff were completely dominating them and it makes you irritated. You want to help them out a bit. It’s Victoria and Trish in the ring while Jeff and Stevie were going at it outside.

Trish irish whips Victoria into the corner, and the latter brings up her knee to slam right into Trish’s face. As a rebound, Trish decides to hit the Stratusphere once Victoria starts to climb onto the top rope.

Alright, you can’t keep watching anymore. You absolutely have to interfere! Once she grabs her from off of the ground and starts heading towards the rope, you already know she’s about to do Stratusfaction.

In an attempt to stop her, you hop up onto the apron. The referee tries to stop you from getting in in the meanwhile. It’s clear that she hesitates coming towards your side, which gives Victoria enough time to try and reverse it into a Widow’s Peak.

Trish is able to maneuver her way back out of it though, much to your surprise. And instead of hesitating any further, she grabs Victoria by the back of her hair and uses you as leverage for her finisher. It hurt like hell once you hit the ground.

…Actually, you may have landed wrong. Almost immediately, a shot of pain had shot up your right leg, making you curl up and grab onto it. The crowd to let out a gasp.

‘[Name] falling off the apron, by god, that was a nasty fall!’ JR calls. ‘This may be bad news!’

On the other side of him, Jerry cries out. ‘Oh no! Come over here, [Name]! I’ll nurse it better!’

You don’t know what sucks more, the sound of the bell ringing along with Trish’s theme music or the fact you may have been injured. What if you’re taken off of TV? You feel like you’ll have to share your time off with Lita, who would probably drive you insane the entire time.

This is really bad. What starts to make it worse is that Stevie starts to stomp over to you. You can barely stand, which makes him yank you up harshly. He guided you over to the ring and pushed you in.

Now, you’ll have to answer to Victoria. As you try and use the ropes to get up, she stands over you, jabbing a finger in your face. “What the hell was that, [Name]?!”

“I was trying to help you!” It’s safe to say you’re afraid of Victoria right now. She's so unstable, you hated to be on her bad side. "I was!"

"We LOST!" She screams. "That bitch won! And it's all because of you! Guess what?! You're going to pay!"

Shit. Stevie grabs you and lifts you up, keeping you in a hold so that he’s got your arms hooked behind you. Victoria felt that she had no other choice but to punish you.

She reels her arm back in preparation. On instinct, you close your eyes.

…But nothing ever comes. You hear the crowd begin to cheer louder and you open your eyes to see that Trish had slid back into the ring and knocked her down. They move out of the ring, giving the other two enough space.

Of course, Jeff came back, easily maneuvering over to you and Stevie. He lets you go and you crash onto the ground, only able to watch them go at it.

Your leg was definitely busted. You can barely move! Luckily, the fight between the boys in the ring hadn’t last too long. Stevie rolls out of the ring to escape, while Jeff quickly comes over to you.

“Ya’ alright?”

"Besides my leg feeling like it's broken, sure, I'm alright." You sarcastically remark. He starts to walk and you try to hop along with him. “Dude, you’re going to have to slow down.”

“Sorry.” He quickly apologizes, slowing his speed so that you’re comfortable. You note that he’s not as harsh as Stevie was. He’s trying to guide you to the very edge of the ring.

…But he suddenly stops halfway before you get there. “What’re you doing?” You ask.

Jeff doesn’t reply.

Will he’ll regret this later? It didn’t matter. Before you can question him again, he reaches over to grab your face and brings you in for a quick kiss.

You don’t even know what to do. It was so fast, you didn’t even get the opportunity to decide whether you wanted to kiss back or not.

Perhaps it’s a random act of kindness. Maybe even an act of sympathy? You’re not even sure. You just look dumbfounded.

That’s the first time he’s ever done that. He goes back to helping you out of the ring without a word and you feel like it’s for the best.

Somehow, you have to fight the growing smile on your face, despite how much guilt may lie beneath.

Jeff Hardy is a strange individual, that’s for sure. But you know that he’ll always be a hero at the end of the day.

[blackhairedjjun]

flowers of every color | 3. lilies of the valley

overall summary: when your father is assigned as the new head gardener to the royal family, you are also tasked with helping him maintain the castle's many gardens and extensive floral arrangements. by chance you find yourself crossing paths with the "ice-cold" crown prince, choi yeonjun... who turns out to be not as ice-cold as everyone says he is.

chapter summary: the royal family throws a ball and you're in charge of floral decorations. along the way, you spy on some official business and meet two other princes of the house of choi...

word count: 1.9k

warnings: a character yelling at another but it's very minor

author’s note: this is more of a transitional chapter but it's gonna set up some things for later in the story! also WE'RE FINALLY GETTING SOOGYU HERE ヽ(⌒▽⌒)ﾉ yes the choi line are all distantly related in this fic, they belong to the same royal house but are like... very very distant cousins or something lol. easier for me to do than to make them unrelated and part of 3 different houses of choi and me explaining "no they're all different" ksljdfkls

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“those look amazing, y/n. you sure they aren’t ready yet?”

yeonjun watches you as you walk through the greenhouse, showering a long row of lilies of the valley with your watering can. the flowers arrived just that morning and you need to treat them with care before they’re planted. as you water them, the droplets stick to the little white bulbs of flowers and catch the sunlight. you smile at the sight and spy yeonjun smiling at at them, too.

“give them a few days, your ma- yeonjun. they’ll look even more beautiful planted at the front entrance.”

you notice his smile grow just a bit bigger at you using his name, a habit you haven’t quite gotten used to yet. “can’t wait,” he says, and bends down to talk to one of the flowers. “you need to grow up well, okay? make y/n proud! don’t disappoint them!” he laughs and you start giggling yourself.

“they’ll have to make you proud too, you know. we can’t have your ball guests thinking poorly of you and your family because of a few wilted flowers.”

“i know, i know...” yeonjun wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, and you put down your watering can to accommodate him. “but you should be the one getting the credit. you worked so hard to get these shipped here and take care of them, so you should be proud of yourself.”

you nod, feeling warm at his touch, and lean into him as he pats your shoulder. 

there’s only a few days left until the welcome ball that the royal family is hosting for some diplomatic envoys, and you and your father have been tasked with preparing the gardens and floral decorations for the event. the two of you have been up to your necks in work: surveying the gardens, planning the theme and the floral arrangements to go with it, going through your inventory of flowers, and preparing them for planting once they’ve started to bloom. 

that means that you simply haven’t had the time to do your usual errand of leaving specially chosen flowers in yeonjun’s bedroom. you’re grateful, then, that he took matters into his own hands: he declared that he would be in charge of overseeing the gardens and floral decor for the event, which was really a thinly veiled excuse to see you.

“can i try?” yeonjun picks up the watering can you set down. “let me help you too.”

“careful, i’m the one with the green thumb around here,” you tease. “we don’t want the flowers withering and dying before ball day.”

“hey! c’mon, that’s not fair.” he pouts and brings the watering can close to his chest. “i haven’t even done anything yet, you don’t know if they’ll die! maybe i’ll do a great job and they’ll bloom even more!”

you laugh and shake your head. “fine, fine. maybe the flowers will be awed by your majesty.” you see him sigh as you mention his title. “here, you can try watering this row, i haven’t worked on them yet.”

一

on the day of the ball itself, you change out of your usual faded gardening smock into the plain navy blue uniform assigned to servants of the castle. it’s not as comfortable as your usual attire, but the fabric is not as stiff as you feared it would be, and you move around the castle grounds freely.

while you are neither a guest at the ball nor one of the servants working in the ballroom itself, the chamberlain wanted anyone who lives or works on the castle grounds to look presentable, just in case the envoys saw them while walking around. besides, he told you and your father, you need to be on call in case one of the flowerbeds or vases gets ruined and needs to be replaced.

you spend the early afternoon wandering around the southern gardens, admiring the work that you and your father did over the past few weeks. the lilies of the valley sway gently in the breeze, their white bulbs rustling like tiny bells. as you gaze at the horizon, the flowers you planted seem to meld together into a symphony of colors: white and yellow, light and dark blue, pink and purple. you can’t help but marvel at the sight, and at the realization that you and your father managed to do all that. you should be proud of yourself, yeonjun told you, and you do feel a bud of pride swell in your chest.

you spot movement from the corner of your eye and turn towards the southern castle entrance facing the gardens. there you see yeonjun dressed finely for the occasion, meeting with a pair of middle-aged men in heavy grey jackets adorned with medals. you tilt your head at the sight as curiosity gets the better of you 一 because of how busy you are, you’ve never actually seen yeonjun on his princely duties. you move closer, but out of their line of sight, wondering what on earth they could be talking about; soon you are able to examine their faces, yet remain far enough that their words are only unintelligible noise.

the shorter of the two middle-aged men appears to be raising his voice, his eyes bulging as he goes on a tirade that you can’t hear. the other man, almost as tall as yeonjun himself, is smiling but his expression is strained as if trying to hide something. you glance over at yeonjun and notice that his face has turned cold. he stares at them as if he sees right through them, and his lips are pulled in a taut line. when the short man finishes his tirade and the prince is allowed to respond, his expression barely changes.

of course. the ice-cold prince, you remember. the more you get to know yeonjun, the more you realize that the moniker is a carefully crafted facade. since he is the only child and heir of the house of choi, the future of the kingdom hangs on his shoulders; he knows that there are too many people who see him as a weak spot, waiting for him to make a mistake so that they can take power for themselves. to keep them at bay he puts on an air of haughtiness, signaling that he is not the weak spot they think him to be.

but he is nothing like that, you think 一 you know. you know how he smiles at the smallest of joys, how he loves the company of friends, how he knows the right thing to say to bring comfort or encouragement; there is nothing cold about him. yet not only is that side of himself hidden from others, but also that side must remain hidden from certain people to protect his kingdom. you feel a sting in your heart at the thought.

the two middle-aged men start to leave, and yeonjun turns to head back to the castle. you wonder what they have been discussing, though you assume it’s something you probably have no involvement in. before you can think about it any further, you are distracted by distant shouting at the edge of the gardens.

“hey, you’ve had several turns now, let me try!”

“just wait, i’m trying to beat my record!”

“you said that last time and you haven’t beaten your record yet! just accept that you’re never going to beat it!”

“hyung, how could you say that?! i thought you were my biggest support一”

their words are cut off and you hear rustling, followed by a panicked shout. then something gently bumps against your feet 一 a small rubber ball.

the ball is soon followed by two young men around yeonjun’s age running towards you. one of them is lanky with a slender face, the other tall with high features. you notice that their coats also bear the embroidered insignia of the house of choi.

“look what you did, you almost scared one of the servants,” the tall one chides.

“relax, they’re doing just fine. right?” the lanky one gives you a charming smile.

you stare for a moment, unsure what to make of these rowdy young men, until you remember your manners and make a hasty bow.

“i’m alright, thank you. don’t worry about me. here.” you pick up the ball and hand it to them.

“i’m terribly sorry for troubling you like this,” the tall one says and returns the bow. “let me introduce ourselves. i’m choi soobin, prince of the central branch of the house of choi.”

“i’m choi beomgyu, prince of the eastern branch,” the lanky one says. “nice to meet you.”

your eyes light up as you recall yeonjun mentioning just how extensive the house of choi is, with rulers in different kingdoms. yeonjun’s own family, he once said, is from the main northern branch.

“pleased to meet you, your majesties,” you say, bowing again more deeply. “i’m y/n, and i’m one of the gardeners of the castle. i hope you’ll enjoy our gardens.”

at the mention of your name, soobin and beomgyu exchange knowing looks. beomgyu breaks out into a wide grin.

“you一 you’re y/n! you’re the one yeonjun hyung mentions all the time in his letters!”

“e-excuse me?”

“a-ah, pardon us...” soobin flushes and gives you an embarrassed smile. “we’ve heard a lot about you from yeonjun hyung. he writes to us and tells us about a gardener friend that he made. that’s you... right?”

now it’s your turn to flush at his words. “i-uh... unless he made another gardener friend, i suppose that’s me.”

the two of them are now grinning from ear to ear, and you flush even deeper. just what did yeonjun tell them about you?

as if on cue, your friend appears behind soobin and beomgyu and wraps an arm each around their shoulders. “found you!”

“yeonjun hyung!” 

the three young men tackle each other in an embrace and nearly fall over, cheering and laughing as they do. you hear shouts of “i missed you!” and “i got more handsome, right?!” amidst the chaos, and your heart grows light at the sight. gone is the ice-cold prince from moments ago, and here again is the friend you know.

once the greeting is over, yeonjun pokes his head from the tackle-hug out at you. “y/n! you’re here!” he releases himself from his companions and pulls you into a hug of your own. “i’m so glad you made it out,” he says, pulling away. “and how come you met soobin and beomgyu without me?! i was going to introduce you in a dignified way!”

“anything is more dignified than running into gyu trying to beat his football record,” soobin snorts.

“i was going to beat it if you didn’t distract me! and my record is still better than yeonjun hyung’s.”

“hey, why are you bringing me into this?!”

you can’t help but snort at their banter, and all three of them turn to look at you.

“c’mon, you two. you’re embarrassing me in front of y/n.” yeonjun links your arm with his and turns to the others. “let’s do a tour of the castle gardens? i need to show all the work y/n did. they did an amazing job.”

“he never shuts up about you,” beomgyu says to you.

you smile before you even realize it; you only feel it when your cheeks begin to hurt. “sure, i’ll show you around,” you say. “let me tell you all about the flowers for tonight’s ball...”

end notes: alright! for chapter 4 we're getting the actual ball (kinda-sorta), and we're getting a nice lovely yeonjun x reader moment ;~; ch4 is my favorite one so far so i'm excited to finish it and post it aaaaaa

[offbrandkyoya]

50 hopefully

previous | masterlist | next

You’re feeling a bit better than yesterday but a part of you is still upset. You woke up this morning feeling good but it washes away when you recall last nights events. Sitting up, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand, and Scaramouche never texted you once. Your breath shakes and you get up to start the day.

Currently, you are eating lunch with Thoma since it’s break. You’ve been spacing out but working on your art project distracted you. You ate and stared at the table. Thoma is concerned for you and he decides to ask, “What’s wrong?” You look up at him and the guilt surfaces. “Uh, well…” You put your fork down and hold your hands. “Scaramouche and I got into a fight.” Thoma gains a shocked expression. “Oh no. I’m sorry, yn.” You smile forcibly. “It’s okay.”

Then, you frown again. “Thoma, I have to tell you something.” He tilts his head a little. “What is it?” You look around before leaning towards him and whispered, “I know.” He blinks. “Know what?” You look around again. “Not here.” You say and get up, gathering your things and throwing your trash away. Thoma follows you and throws away his stuff too. You lead him to the lounge and sit on the couch. He sits next to you still confused.

“Thoma, I know about you and Diluc.” Suddenly, his face went white. He shook and picked on his skin as he chuckled awkwardly. “H-How did-How did you find out?” You took out your phone and show him the message you received. He grew more and more anxious as he read the article, word for word. Thoma looks away and you take it as a sign that he doesn’t want to read it anymore.

Putting your phone away, you place a hand on top of his, mostly to stop him from hurting his skin. “I wont tell Diluc, I promise.” Thoma nods. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m letting you know because I don’t want to keep it a secret from you.” You caressed his hand. “You’re a good guy so I’ll do whatever you want me to do with this information.” Thoma sighs and thinks for a moment. He looks at you and asks, “Are you the only one who knows?” You shook your head. “Scaramouche knows but I doubt he’ll say anything.” ‘Hopefully.’

Thoma nods again. “It’s pretty sad. Our history.” You frown and give him a tight hug. “I’m sorry.” He hugs back and buries his face in your shoulder. “It’s okay.” He says, softly. You both pull away from each other. “Enough of that,” You say. “I want to show you how my projects going.” Thoma smiles. “I’m pretty excited.” He tells you. You get out your phone once more and show him a photo of your artwork. He gasps, “Woah, that’s so good!” You blushed. “Is it? You don’t think it’s too much?” He shakes his head. “Of course not. You’re very talented.”

You smile and look at the piece as well. “I’m sure Scaramouche agrees.” Those words made you gasp and turn to him. Thoma only smiled at you and you couldn’t help but look at your drawing again. The bell rings and Thoma stands up to leave. “Are you coming?” He asks since you didn’t move. “You go without me.” You say and he nods, leaving you on your own. You bit your bottom lip. Slowly, you opened Scaramouche’s contact and stared at the keyboard.

Your finger went to press a key but you stopped when you received a message.

- kny ep today and i sobbed

- can’t wait for next season 😁😁

- also hq returning soon kinda nervous

- I miss them 😞☹️

- I started watching nhie (only on s2 no spoilers pls even though Ik who she ends up w in the end lol)

🏷️ @sakiimeo @coquettemaiden @rmiyuki @kur44pika @theblueblub @jxxji0309 @dreamsofminnie @ohmyfinggod @redactedhimbo @kunisbeloved @akagism2 @sketcheeee @thefandomcrow @beriiov @thenightsflower @yukiipc @scaraapologist @scarletttcroww @samyayaya @crucnhice @monaypo1 @feiherp @myaaones @warcelia @hangecanweholdhands @yuminako @valiryyz @screechingxiaolover @tiddieshakeshownu @ilovechuuyaa @d4y-dr3am3r @dazaisfavgf @swivy123 @ganyusbrideee @sagegreenthinks @the-left-glove @wonderland-fan @kylexzz @kaoyamamegami @whycantscarabereal @rvoulte @eunchaeluvr @lxkeeeee @silvermah @baby-bread-in @yelleloww @magica-ren @itzblazekun @im-inlovewithy0u @featuredtofu

[kahlanmars]

BAD FEELING 14

I am so early it's getting annoying, you know, but I feel so happy when I write this! Also, I'm a GREAT Taylor Swift fan so if you think "Uhm, that's a funny coincidence" it's not lol.

Comment if you want me happyyyyy! I don't know if it's worth it to keep going, I don't know if people like it or not!

MASTERLIST

gif not mine

14. One kiss, one page

The first days in District Thirteen are far from perfect. The suit they gave you is the most horrendous piece of clothing they could ever choose, and make up is forbidden. It is like they want to erase all the pretty things from the world.

You asked to be placed in Haymitch’s room, but they told you it wasn’t possible if you weren’t married. 

You are in quarantine, which means no mom, no Effie and no Katniss, you are all in a room with a lot of beds and parasols and grey curtains. They love grey, from what you’ve seen. Perla and Lora are still asleep, they are worse injured than you, and Finnick is working with something technological speaking with someone, but you can’t sleep.

The bright side is that for a night you still have your man. Tomorrow he is sent to rehab, a violent and deeply wrong kind of rehab you can’t quite put a finger on. Are they trying to make him feel worse? Because he is a spectacular asset in the revolution, but even a genius can’t think straight with tremors and headaches. 

«Can I tell you something without sounding ungrateful? Because I am. I am deeply grateful that you saved me.» You say, while Haymitch is in your bed. His hands are already shaking from the addiction, but you like to think your caresses can make the situation a little better. He hums in pleasure in response so maybe you are right.

«Go on.» 

«I don’t like this place.» You whisper. «All these rules are weird. I am not saying I would go back to the Capitol, but…»

He shuts you up with a kiss. «You made your point.» And he made his. You couldn’t speak freely, not yet. From the Capitol to District 13 you are still in the game, just with another character.

«Maybe I will like it better after quarantine.» You humour him. «I really hope I’ll be able to visit you.»

«Perhaps you shouldn’t. They explained what will happen, and they mentioned rage, hallucinations, there is a reason why I’m in isolation.» You’ve seen him in bad places before, but hallucinations… that scares you a little, you have to admit it. 

«I can handle it.» You murmur looking at his blue eyes. 

«You don’t have to.» 

«Yes I need to.» You shake your head. «You are not my mentor anymore.» 

«I know but-»

«No. You are not my mentor anymore, or my employer for what it matters. You don’t need to protect me from the world, what have I told you before? I am an adult just like you. I took care of you before, I cleaned your mess and stayed with you. I’m strong, Haymitch. And I like you. And if we want to continue what we have, and of course you want to because I’m flawless and stunning, we have to take care of each other. Fifty fifty.» 

He is silent. You didn’t want to give him a lecture, but at the same time he has to understand that he is not your boss. The power dynamics in your relationship are fucked up, but you are not a damsell in distress.

But maybe you overstepped. «If, if you want to keep going with it, of course.» You add, and now your eyes are on the floor.

«I wouldn’t have begun something with you if I didn’t know about the revolution.» He whispers.

«Funny, I thought I was going to die in a week.»

«I knew you weren’t. I mean, there was a chance, but not a high one.» He lifts up your chin, forcing you to watch him in the eyes. «I’m not good with those things.» He confesses.

«I know. I just want to know if you want it. Because if you don’t want it’s okay, but if you would like to be with me, without any label of sort, just you and me… Well we know we work well together.» 

«I’m a mess.» He argues.

«Do you want it?» You insist.

«You are twenty four and I’m forty one.» He retorts.

«Do you want me?» 

«I’m not a relationship type.»

«I never asked for a relationship but if you don’t want me I deserve to know.»

He shuts the hell up for a moment, and you can’t help but think of the worst. «Are you tired of me?»

He takes your lips in a kiss so fierce and powerful that is almost violent, all of his strength is on your body, all of his weight on you. «Never.» He answers between kisses.

You smirk. «I have broken ribs, you savage.» 

«Oh fuck sorry, I didn’t think.» He tries to get up but you immediately take him and push him down to you. He didn’t think. Not “I didn’t think about it”, he didn’t think because he was so whipped by you.

«Nah-ah, mine.» You purr in his ear. «Is that a yes?»

He just nods. You get it’s hard for him, after his parent’s and girlfriend’s death. He was isolated from the whole world, he said it himself he didn’t want to get attached to you. You managed to keep him tied to you nonetheless. 

«I like you so much. You don't have to tell me anything but I want you to know.» Because he thinks he doesn't deserve this. And maybe, just maybe, if you keep repeating it he will believe you.

«You have to get some sleep, sweetheart.» He kisses your forehead. You giggle at this exposure of tenderness.

«I don't want to waste time. What if there's a cute doctor and you fall in love with her?» This time you joke, but he rolls his eyes.

«Given the fact that I have been living like an hermit since I was seventeen, I think you are pretty safe in that field.» You hope. You tend to be the jealous type, you were with Clark and it wasn’t a sensual situation, you don’t know how you could react to jealousy in a relationship. Even if yours is not a relationship.

«They will have their claws on you. You are handsome, you know?» You start peppering kisses on his neck. «All the girls want to be me.»

«You are delusional.» You aren’t. As much as Perla can joke about it and Finnick can says he is old, he is not even fifty, he has strong arms and blue eyes, and he is magnetic in everything he does. You feel a little safer just because he is in disguise as this drunk grumpy crazy man who doesn’t want to talk to anyone, but it’s a charade. And even when he was playing the part he used to go to every shop in District 12 to buy something, just to help the people who worked there with his victor’s money. During Christmas he sometimes gave candies to the kids, or he gave you the money to do so without his name on it. He has a great heart. You hope women don’t notice it too much. 

«Oh c'mon! Maybe this drunk character you've created is not that appealing, but you must know you are good looking.» Even Katniss said it, when he was younger he was a looker.

«I was. When I was sixteen. At your age I was already a wreck.»

«No you weren't! And you are not now.»

You stay silent for a moment, and you stroke his hair. 

You hate Snow for what he has done to him, and you can’t help but wonder why you are not a wreck. You should be, you killed two people. People who had a family, dreams, ambitions. You always thought you would have been traumatised for that, thinking they had mothers who cried for them, children maybe, as for the Capitol man. In reality it didn’t happen. You can sleep at night. The Capitol man was a rapist and he deserved it, and you repeatedly asked Clark to be in an alliance with you, you begged him, and he was actively trying to kill you from the start.

Are you just evil? You know Haymitch is not, and he tries so hard to be. Maybe you try so hard to be good because you are evil.

«How was she?» You suddenly ask. 

«Who?» He frowns.

«Marjorie.»

You are sure he will stand up and go away, and you see in his eyes he is about to do this but he squeezes your hand.

«We were very young. She was the baker's daughter, like Peeta. She was beautiful. All the boys wanted her, you know.» He indulges himself to be a little proud of his younger self, who succeeded in conquering the most beautiful girl in the district. You ignore the sting of jealousy, because it’s nonsense. She is dead.

«Did you love her?» 

«I was sixteen. Sneaking in the meadows to have sex is not exactly love.»

«It is at sixteen.» You press a kiss on his cheek. «I'm not going to say it.» You didn't deserve this, you were a kid in a game stronger than you. And she didn't deserve it either, barely in a young love. It is not your fault. Not everyone you love will die. It is not a curse. You are not the problem.

«Thanks.»

He takes your face in his hands and he gives you a long deep kiss. 

«You survived.» You can read his mind: you managed to survive despite him, it is a miracle, he should probably leave you alone because a miracle doesn’t happen twice. 

«I'm pretty hard to kill. Thanks for the water.» You want to keep the conversation on a lighter note. He is done talking about his late girlfriend, it’s a great gift he even agreed to this at all. 

«No problem, gorgeous.» He pats your leg. Oh if you weren’t in a room full of people you would have know how to spend the last night with your man. 

«Would you read for me?» You suggest, «Since we are not sleeping. I want to read all the books you have, I've always been envious of your library.»

He laughs. «I clearly remember you stealing my books while you were cleaning.»

«What can I say? Now I've read all the books beside your bed. We know each other better.»

He nods, amused by your ability to speak your way out of any situation. «Little thief. Good thing you are so beautiful.» He is in a playful mode now, so he leans down for a peck.

«Shhh, read the book. Pleeeease.» You blush a little, but two can play at this game. 

He takes a book from his bed and goes back to you. “Tales of Panem”, you didn’t read it. He is right, you borrowed several of his books. He had Capitol books, and the little school library in the district has four or five books. You had to.

«One kiss, one page?» He suggests, but your hands are already on his chest.

«One kiss, one line.» You debate.

«We will never finish the first chapter.» He laughs, but he kisses you anyway. You won.

«We have all night. Are you complaining?» You pat his arm, and he bites your neck. You should be more aware of marks now that you’ll live with your mother again.

«Never.»

The separation is not messy because he is not here when you wake up. There’s a note instead.

See you later, gorgeous. Take care of yourself, and visit when I’ll be better. Not before. Trust me, I’ll miss you.

H

Of course, he avoids the big goodbye. Maybe it’s better this way, you would have said something bad about the District.

«Can I get up?» You ask your nurse when she comes, and she caresses your cheek. You want to say to her you are not a kid, but it’s actually cute. 

«You’ll take medication. Your body will be in shape in two or three days, ok?» 

«Three days?» You whisper in disbelief. In Twelve everything was a big deal, you had a tiny hospital but it wasn’t so good and nurses here and there, like Katniss’s mother, who did what they had to do. Holly took care of pregnancies, for example. You didn’t want to be sick in Twelve.

«A lot of Capitol doctors are rebels, so now we have their medicine.» She explains. You nod, thinking how the hell doctors could know about the revolution.

There are a lot of things you have to catch up on. 

«Thank you for saving me.» You add, and you know she didn’t do anything but it’s her home, and as much as you don’t like they still saved you. «I’m Daisy.»

«My name is Inez.» She greets you. There is something weird in her tone, though. Something like an accent. Yours.

«You… you have my accent?» You are surprised you see that, but after two weeks in the Capitol and one in the Games you are not used to your accent anymore.

«I used to live in District 12 when I was a kid.» She explains, a sweet smile on her face. She looks like your mother’s age, maybe they know each other.

«What happened then?»

«I became an orphan, I was in the system, I was in danger and… it was another time, another life.» She strokes your hair. «I’ve seen you in the Games.» She murmurs while she takes care of your medication. If she wants to change the subject you are fine with it. «How you saved the girl from Eleven and the girl from Four.»

«I also killed the boy from my district.» You have to add. She was in an orphanage? That’s the life Holly spared you. 

«Wasn’t he going to kill you first?» She finishes it. «Do you really want to become a teacher?»

You are not sure anymore, if you have to be honest. You like kids and the prospect felt good in Twelve, but now you found out new labels of yourself. You like clothes, you like creating outfits, but in District Twelve it’s not really useful. 

«I think so, yeah. I mean a week ago I thought I was going to be dead so I didn’t think much about my career, but since I’m not, yeah.»

«We have a lot of District 12 kids and we are actually looking for a substitute teacher. Would you be interested in that?» Well, it’s a way to settle down for the moment. You are not a tribute anymore, you obviously are not a maid anymore, you might as well be what you wanted to be for twelve years.

«Yeah, I would like that.» 

She seems satisfied with the answer.

«So I’m sorry if I overstepped but… it is real?» Oh, the question. Everybody has The Question. Was it real? Was it for the cameras? Are you in love with a victor who won when you weren’t even born yet?

«Very real.» You confirm. She looks a little worried. That’s the prelude for your mother’s reaction.

«Isn’t he a little old for you? You are, what, twenty?» 

«Twenty four. And no, he is not a little old for me.» You sound cranky now and you get that it’s not good manners, but that’s not that nurse’s business.

She gets it, luckily. «He seems like a good man.»

«He is the best.»

She ties your hair in a ponytail and she caresses your face. «Are you ready to get up?»

Turns out you weren’t so ready to get up, because you have to sit down after five minutes. You don’t have any resistance and you just want to rest. 

The bright side is that you get to see District 13 and it sucks. There’s no silver lining for that, it’s horrendous. You are grateful you don’t have to fight to the death, but the place scares you. Everything is grey, there are a lot, a lot of tunnels and all the rooms are the same. You will get lost, you already know that.

Inez is near to you until you go to a room that looks like a cafeteria, and then she is gone again and you are alone.

For a moment.

«Daisy!» You’d recognize that voice everywhere.

«Mommy!» She hugs you tight, a little too tight given that you have broken ribs. You shouldn’t call her “mommy”, you are an adult, and truth to be told you almost never call her mom, but you really thought you’d never see her again.

«You are safe. You came back to me.» She strokes your raven hair, like you are a baby, and she refuses to let you go until you have to sit. 

She looks twenty years older. You are not going to tell her, but she has a lot of wrinkles on her skin and white hair in her locks.

«I thought I’d lost you.» She repeats, and now she is crying.

«You didn’t.» You are vaguely aware you are making a scene, and you don’t want Perla or Lora to see you. They don’t have their mom here. You didn’t even see Chaff, you don’t know if he is here or captured in the Capitol. «I’m here.»

«When you were in the games, I- I didn’t want to watch it but I wanted to see you, and…»

«I think I nailed it, didn’t I?» You try to take a lighter note, but she seems upset.

«The poor Undersee boy.»

The poor Undersee boy wanted to end your daughter’s life, but before you could say something like that to her you are hugged again, and this time you scream too.

«Effie!» You are beyond happy to see her. She was your light in the Capitol and you can be her light here, in a place that you know better. 

«My darling girl!» She winks at you and you hug her again, you want to keep her close. 

She is so different. She doesn’t have her signature wig, but she covers her hair with a foulard. Grey, of course. And she doesn’t have any makeup on. «Your wig…»

«I am a political refugee, darling. Can’t ask for much.» That is deeply wrong. She helped you get out of the games alive, she saved you as much as Haymitch did, and now they repay them with a violent rehab and insufferable rules. 

«You are still beautiful, it’s not something they can take away from you.» You try to reassure her, and it’s the truth. Even in a grey jumpsuit that is made to look bad she shines. 

«Well, let’s say we are here and safe. And you are my roommate.» 

You almost jump before you remember you can’t because you are bandaged. Inez would kill you. «That is fabulous! If we have any ashes I think we can make black eyeshadow.» 

«You genius girl, I missed you so much.»

Holly is there, looking a little confused. Well, she doesn’t know how much you became close to Effie Trinket during your time in the penthouse, but she will understand. Effie is a good person, people in District 12 need to understand that.

«Mom, can I lie down now? I’m a little tired.» You still call her mom, because you missed her. You missed her hug, and you desperately needed her when President Snow decided you were a target. 

You called her in your sleep when you killed a man, and it’s not her fault she didn’t hear you. 

Still, Effie was there. 

«Of course honey, can you handle going into your room alone?» You don’t think so, without Capitol medication you wouldn’t have been able to walk at all, but you don’t want to look spoiled or weak so you are about to say yes, when Effie snorts in a way that is somehow still ladylike.

«Nonsense, we can ask someone to carry her.»

«If she says she can, why bother someone?» Your mother argues. 

«Because she’s turning blue.»

«Actually,» You interrupt them. «I don’t think I can do it alone.» You don’t want to portrait Holly like the villain, but it’s true you are turning blue from the effort. 

With a satisfied glance Effie manages to ask a boy from District 13 to accompany you, but before you get to be in your bed, your mother stops you.

«Can we talk later?» She is worried, and a little angry maybe. You don’t want to deal with it right now. You know what she wants to say. You killed an innocent guy, you fraternised with the enemy, Effie Trinket is vain and shallow, and you admitted on national television you had sex with a guy who shared my class in first grade.  

«Later.» You promise.

When she goes away it’s Effie who caresses your hair. Your room is the same as all the other rooms, narrow, poky and grey, two beds with white blank sheets and a little tiny toilet with a door - thank all the gods.

«I don’t feel safe here.» You whisper, and she just nods. «Can you stay with me?»

You and her are both stuck with you, you remember Haymitch’s words. Your loyalty is with them, and Katniss, and Peeta and your friends. And your mom, of course. You have to remember that.

She kisses you on the cheek and tugs your bed before sitting on your sheets.

«Always, darling girl.» 

[joehawke]

Gave Me Something To Lose

Inspired by this post. Please be aware this is very melodramatic and if that isn’t your thing then feel free to scroll past lol. Set many years after Vecna, Steve and Eddie and their relationship have changed a lot for reasons you’ll read just keep that in mind. :)

Plot loosely based on the musical The Last Five Years

There’s just some things Steve can’t explain, stupid stuff like why the sky is blue or why his feet squeak against the linoleum floor no matter how many times he replaces the loose wood panels. He’ll never understand the concept of magnets, and he’ll never understand why Robin insists on continuing to put up with her weird hippy parents despite her constant grievances. It’s the little things, like how Dustin and Suzie communicate that don’t make sense to him, or the way Hopper grumbles about being around so many ‘damn kids’ when Steve knows he wouldn’t change it for the world. It’s the little things he pays attention to that others wouldn’t notice, like the way Max draws stars on the cuffs of her jeans when she gets nervous or the way Mike and Nancy have the same tendency, a signature if you will, to pick at their skin when they get mad. It’s the little things he can’t explain, the little things that leave him lying awake at night asking himself a million questions. 

But it's also the little things that stick with him, like those unruly magnets he’s yet to figure out (though he’s sure if he were to ask Dustin he’d get his answer almost immediately, but maybe it’s the wondering that leaves him aware and present). 

It’s those stupid nagging unsure of explanations that have him and Eddie staring angrily at each other across the dim flickering kitchen light - and damn it, Steve thought he fixed that stupid bulb. Steve’s head is starting the throb, like every fiber and being in him is fighting against one another and isn’t that just great? Like he needs another fight. This wasn’t his plan. Maybe that was the issue. That’s what started this whole mess, wasn’t it? 

The enormity of time sits like a weight on Steve’s chest, the ticking of Wayne’s old grandfather clock giving way to the eerie silence of the living room, the sound reverberating off Steve’s mothers old china. Steve closes his eyes, the hope of another day far away from this one blur on the inside of his lids. The sound of a trash bag lures Steve out, and it takes everything in him not to just walk away and never look back, but he can’t. Who would he be if he did? Images of his father flash into his mind before he shakes him away with a force he hasn’t been met with in awhile. 

Steve watches with careful eyes as Eddie opens the bag wide, dumping the remnants of what was supposed to be something carefree and new, now beginning to crumble to the bottom of the flimsy transparent plastic. He watches as Eddie’s shoulder blades flex through the cream satin of his shirt with every sharp movement, and it all feels too harsh and Steve knows this feeling all too well. 

He closes his eyes once more and breathes in the smell of stale champagne and left over stuffed chicken, and tries to imagine a world where his relationships don't turn out like his parents. Images of Nancy and now Eddie filter into his head. He fails. 

He blows out the candles one by one, watching the smoke twist and twine its way into the dimly lit room, disappearing into the moonlight escaping through the curtains. He can feel a pair of eyes on him as he examines the crescent shape of pink leftover lips that have imprinted themselves onto the champagne flutes, Robin and Nancy’s signature colors making themselves known as Steve tucks the stem of each glass in between his fingers, ignoring the lingering pair of eyes as he makes his way to the kitchen. 

He can see Eddie from his peripherals clearing Steve’s mothers old china off the table, stacking them with a force that makes him cringe. Steve scrubs harder at the remanence of smudged lips and closes his eyes once again, hoping, praying to a God he’s not sure he believes in, that in this moment, he’ll wake up to the day he and Eddie first kissed outside his pool. Eddie with his ridiculous red and black board shorts, and Steve with his way too tiny yellow trunks, a giant smile playing on his lips as he watches Eddie play fetch with the border collie from down the street that sneaks in under Steve’s fence every time Steve grills. 

Steve’s pulled out of his trance by the sound of glass on glass and when he opens his eyes with a startle, Eddie has set the stacked plates down on the counter next to the sink. Steve turns and continues to scrub at the flutes, continues to keep his eyes locked in front of himself. 

Eddie has his calloused palms wrapped tightly around a beer bottle, the warm amber like liquid sloshing gently against the ceramic as he brings it up to his lips. Steve can feel him pause, like he’s weighing his options studiously, before he fully takes the long awaited sip, the liquid disappearing down his throat with one gulp. The silence cuts through the kitchen and Steve can’t decide if he should leave it, let it fester like a fresh wound, or let it dissipate into friendly chatter. Steve knows the latter is far from. He reaches for one of the stacked plates, the gold rim of the porcelain glimmering in the kitchen light, when a hand reaches for the sponge in Steve’s left hand, setting it down in the sink gently.

 Steve finally lets himself look up at Eddie, and the reflection he’s met with suddenly angers him. His cupid’s bow is wet with a golden tint of what Steve can only imagine to be as beer, and the purple crescent indents under his eyes are almost comical, though Steve doesn't laugh. He twines his hands with Steve’s, and instead of giving him the satisfaction of pulling away, Steve stands his guard and goes for looking down at their feet instead; Eddie’s “nicest” smudged combat boots that Steve always gets a good laugh at, and Steve’s freshly polished dress shoes his parents got him in Venice for some holiday long forgotten, stare back at him in a taunting manor. 

Silence morphs its way around the room, closing in on him like something dark, and he wishes he had the courage to say something, anything, but he doesn't. He can’t be his parents. And saying something - voicing it aloud, doesn’t that make his worst fear creep its hands up his throat, allowing them to choke him once and for all? So instead, Steve focuses on that stupid flickering light bulb and despite the memories the flickering tends to bring back, he sits in it nonetheless - because sitting in those memories he thinks, is better than sitting in this weird limbo he’s tried so hard to keep away. But he’s never been one to win a fight.

“Stevie...”

And just like that, the sound barrier breaks, the static that was beginning to engulf Steve, shattering in an instant, and he can’t tell if it makes him want to exhale or inhale, yet he doesn't respond. 

“Steve. Come on” Eddie says, his tone harsh and tired, his head lulling to the side. And Eddie’s never harsh. He’s gentle and sometimes jittery, but never harsh. He’s migrated his hands to Steve’s hips, and he can feel every nerve in Steve freeze, “Stevie please. Can we talk about this? Can’t we go one night without fighting?” Steve’s jaw tightens and it takes everything in him not to look up into the brown he knows is staring down at him; the brown forest Steve once used to imagine sonnets were made of. The brown forest Steve’s watched dim over the last few years. “For god sake Steve. I thought you would be happy! Why are you acting like this?” 

Out of everything that has been said tonight, this makes Steve physically laugh. He looks up at him, a smile starting to form on Eddie’s own lips and this makes Steve laugh harder. 

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asks, a slight hint of humor lacing the previous venom. 

“You think I’m laughing with you” Steve laughs out. A statement. Not a question. Tears blur Steve’s vision and part of Steve blames it on the laughter bubbling in his chest, but a deeper rooted part blames it on the salty storm that has been festering all night. Steve can feel Eddie’s demeanor change, his hands freezing in their place, wilting like a flower in late summer, and the still eeriness of it all grounds Steve in a way he’s yet to allow himself to explore. 

“What is your problem?” Eddie spits, a supercilious filter dripping with every syllable. Steve lets himself look up at this. Lets himself search his eyes for an answer he knows is long gone. Steve lets himself go. For this one, mere minute, he allows himself to defend himself for just this once. Screw his vows to not end up like his father. He’s tired of acting like the picture perfect housewife his mother once was. Correction; his mother still is.  

“My problem?” Steve asks quietly, a hint of nothing but unadulterated venom lacing his tone like cloyed honey. 

“Oh don’t play the victim Steve. You’ve been nothing but cold and bitter all night. Not everything is about you. Did that ever occur to you? Oh right, of course not, because nothing else matters to King Steve as he sits here and falters in his big old castle” Eddie spits, turning to the liquor cabinet before reaching for the bottle of heavy, amber colored liquid. 

Steve watches as he pours himself another glass, his nails digging into the palm of his hand, purple crescent shapes forging into the silky skin as he takes in the words Eddie let snake their way around their kitchen. King Steve King Steve King Steve King — No. No No. Eddie was supposed to be the person who saw through his stupid placated facade and Eddie was supposed to be the person who understood and when did that get so screwed up? When did they get so lost in translation? Steve’s so fucking tired of sitting still and acting like a good fucking trained puppy. 

“Eddie.” Breathe. Once. In. Out. Exhale. Stand your guard. “I found out you planned on packing up and moving across the country through a ‘celebratory’ dinner with our friends and family. That you were planning on leaving for yet another year long tour. Excuse me for being selfish”. Steve spits, watches as Eddie processes what he said, as he almost smiles in mirth at the fact that for once, Steve spoke up rather than nodded his head and agreed. That for once, Steve fought against, and Steve can’t tell if the clench of his jaw is out of curiosity or out of anger over the fact that Steve didn’t abide. And when the fuck did Steve become his mother? Steve refused to let him win this time.

Eddie says nothing. Steve pictures his mother keeping her mouth shut by downing her endless bottles of wine. Steve’s tired of drowning with his mother. He continues. “You can’t think that for one moment I was going to be happy about this, did you? I’ve supported you since we bought that stupid shoebox apartment and you told me Corroded Coffin got a record deal. I supported you when you were gone days at a time because you had to leave town to ‘record a new single’. I supported you when you left me home alone for another three weeks as you played dive bars across the state. I put my life on hold for you, so sorry if this so-called ‘surprise’ didn’t make me happy” Steve says, letting go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding, releasing his nails from the flesh of his palm. 

The air in the kitchen has gone quiet once again, and Steve thinks about an entity where silence isn’t the only option. Steve watches as Eddie searches his face for an answer to a question Steve’s yet to figure out. Steve sometimes wonders if people look at his life like some massive question and somehow he’s the wrong answer. Steve wonders when the day will come when people will realize he hasn't even solved his own unattainable mess of an equation. 

The grandfather clock strikes twelve and Eddie downs the rest of the warm hazy liquid, lazily tossing the cup into the sink. Steve steps back, an old habit he never quite realized he started doing. But maybe that’s a lie as images of Tommy Hagen yelling at him ‘that’s right Stevie boy, run away! Run away just like you always do!’ make his way to the front of his brain.

Eddie’s jaw clenches, and Steve watches as Eddie’s hands shake, a tell tale he’s nervous or upset. Steve doesn’t feel like deciphering which one it is today. Maybe Steve should’ve stopped there, maybe they could’ve gone to bed and figured it out in the morning. But that was the issue, wasn’t it? They never did figure it out. They’d go to bed with hope clasped between their fingertips as tense unsalvageable feelings warped their way between their sides of the bed. And Eddie would leave the next morning like nothing happened and Steve would wait at the door like a sad pitiful lost cause. And he was sick of it. He was so fucking sick of it. He vowed to never turn into his ‘grade A asshole’ of a father and yet, the one person he never would’ve thought to fear would be his sad excuse of a mother. And something in him aches for her. Something in him wants to reach out, hold her hand, whisper out broken promises as she tells him they’ll get out of this hole together. But his mother isn’t here and his fathers knuckles ache against his cheek as they try to reach down his throat and continue what Steve never wanted to start in the first place. “You know better boy, if you’re going to start a fight - you need to execute and end it. Got it?” So excuse Steve if he never was good at biting his tongue. 

“I’m not some fucking trophy wife for you to come home to and fuck away your stresses and then pack up and leave again. I’m not here for your - your – disposal” Steve spits, the venom starting to lace his words like something vile. Steve watches as something close to mirth flashes across Eddie’s eyes. 

“It’s not my fault you haven’t figured out what the hell you want to do with your life Steve! Excuse me for being happy for once your highness” Eddie laughs out, digging into his pockets if not just to have something to fidget with. 

“That’s not fair Eddie and you know it” Steve says quietly, and Eddie and Steve both know Eddie cut open a scar Steve’s been trying to close for ages now. And maybe Steve should blame himself really. A part of Eddie is right. Steve flunked out of his first few courses at the community college, but he had wanted to try again once he was in a better headspace. Only - that space never came. He was always too busy watching everyone else from the sidelines. He has nothing to prove for himself, and Eddie knows this. God Eddie knows this and he’s just bringing it to light isn’t it? And speaking of light, that stupid bulb is just flickering more aggressively and Steve’s head is throbbing twice as hard and his heart hurts and he’s so fucking tired. 

“Why not? You know it’s true. You sit around here all day moping and fixing shit that doesn’t need to be fixed. Have you ever stopped and thought, hm, maybe I should start fixing myself?” Eddie spits, continuing, and maybe Steve broke a while back, maybe Steve’s been broken since his father fed ideas of being nothing but a failure into his head. Maybe he’s been broken since Tommy Hagen planted the seed of an idea into his head and because Steve was too weak, he let the roots grow.  Maybe Steve’s been broken since he got rightfully punched by Johnathan Byers all those years ago. Maybe Steve’s been broken since his first encounter with the monsters he discovered lived outside just his head. But then Eddie came along and slowly but surely, started to piece his broken figures back together like it was the easiest thing he’s ever done. When did they start to fray around the edges and come undone again? When did Steve stop noticing Eddie had stopped picking up the pieces? Steve’s line of vision becomes blurry as tears threaten to escape his waterline. Eddie eyes Steve carefully, as if he were weighing an inner turmoil. “I will not lose because you can’t win Steve.” And suddenly, all the fight that Steve had left evaporates from his body like something ghostly.

“Fuck you Eddie” Steve whispers before turning back towards the living room and making his way out of sight into the dark hallway. Somewhere in the vast, unspoken quietude and space between them, lies a million questions, and this time, Steve won’t allow himself to explain them. 

I told you it would be melodramatic…

So whether or not you think Eddie or Steve or neither of them are the bad guy, I’ll leave up to your interpretation. Do I do a part two? Or leave it as it is to showcase not all relationships are perfect? (Cliche of me I know) thoughts are always appreciated

Please also note that I lowkey hated the characterization of both eddie and Steve and felt they were out of character until after I had finish and I came to the realization that I wrote them like that to showcase how hurt and insecurities can change both people and a relationship.

[kanmom51]

Run BTS Next Top Genius Special Part 2

I was contemplating if to write a whole separate post here or if to just reblog and add my own two cents.

Went with option no. 1 just cause my fingers, they were itching.

And what is it I'm talking about here?

The rock scissors paper game and the whole discussion about JK's loyalties.

Cause why enjoy the show? Let's go look for how to tear JK down, it's the new pass time for some parts of this fandom.

So, let's join the conversation, shall we?

These people are utterly ridiculous. 

Instead of enjoying the damn episode, which was hilarious, btw, they are busy making claims about JK’s supposed behavior.  Judging by little snippets they see on Twitter or TikTok instead of seeing the full picture.

*Note to those ridiculous humans:

Watch the damn episode.  Full original content people.  Do you not remember that rule?  And if it’s moving too fast for you, then watch it again, goddammit, before sprouting your nonsense. 

I can tell you that I did.  Watched it again to figure out what exactly was going on there.  What JK was doing.  What he was telling Tae.  What he told JM before the last round.  His explanation at the end about his behaviour (man just knows he can’t lie, lol).

WATCH IT AGAIN IF YOU NEED TO !! 

Just a couple of things I wanted to add to this convo.

JK studied the cards, he did try to.  Went to Tae and literally told him the truth.  “Leave the card you are winning on and change the others”.

Strange behavior you might think, being on JM’s team.  But he explains it at the end:

See, I'm not sure the translation is accurate or understandable, lol. But I do think what he meant, bottom line, is that he wouldn't be able to lie and get away with it, lol.

JK did what he knew to do, stick to the truth.

But the end round, telling JM to trust his gut – twice.  That was when he showed his true hand.  This is after he says to everyone they need to keep a poker face, which they certainly did not…

2nd time:

Tae’s shock when he sees JK is on JM’s team, lol.

And the editors…although I do need to have a talk to them with some of the clear Jikook cuts going on during this episode, with this one they did well…

And I rest my case. That face. He just can't hide it. So, the strategy was: tell the truth, don't get caught, don't be obvious (like go stand next to JM and walk between the two) and trust JM's gut to change the cards around.

Did kind of work... Just saying...

JM’s reaction is also something people overlook.

How worked up he was about Jin and Hobi being on his team.  Both of them were hectic on his side of the game while JK who never set  foot on JM’s side was on his team, and JM’s reaction to that? 

Lol, non existent. 

Nothing. 

Like the man wasn’t surprised one little bit.

So, either those two are doing the telepathy thing, or maybe we missed one of their multitude of signs of communicating with each other with no words, cause it looked like JM just knew. 

Perhaps it was the hand shake at the beginning, maybe there was a little hand squeeze going on or the eye contact (short but meaningful? Lol), or that “trust your gut” bit at the end did it…who knows. 

But felt to me like JM just knew JK was on his side of the fence (not only in spirit but by the gods of the game).

When you look at the footage it actually looks like JM was looking for Tae’s reaction when JK goes on his side and found it highly amusing. Just saying.

I also love the way JK is fixing up the covers over JM’s cards when JM was pulling his tantrum over thinking Hobi was working against him, lol.

Also, just wanted to add these just cause they are really pretty:

A-ha...

Go watch the episode if you haven't seen it yet.

It's bloody hilarious.

[piastrinorris]

Sending a second one because I can. Baking with our sweet baby bsbl!Ralph would be lovely <3

Pairing: Busy Streets and Busy Lives!Ralph (Timewasters) x Reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: Happy first day of ficmas, gang! <3 This current chapter of BSBL is pretty angsty and is therefore eating me from the inside out, so here's a wee bit of canon divergence/an insight into the future/the real fluffy shit I've been wanting to write all along lol.

As you turn the key in your lock, you squeeze your eyes shut. You’ve never been a religious person, by any means, but as you push the door open you pray to whatever’s out there that you’ll be walking into a perfectly normal scene.

But of course, you’re not. When has anything in recent months been normal?

Ralph has a baking tutorial playing on the TV as he’s sitting on the floor in front of the sofa, surrounded by several cookbooks, his phone that’s also open on a recipe and multiple crumpled-up pieces of paper on the floor. “Alright there, babe?” you ask with laughter in your voice, putting the groceries you’d just bought down by the doormat as you walk over to him.

With a sharp gasp of surprise, Ralph’s head turns quickly to see you, but his face softens into a smile of pure adoration at the sight of you. “Good afternoon, my love!” he beams. You’ll never tire of how your heart skips a beat at those words. “I’ve got myself into a little bit of a quandary here, I-I’m all sixes and sevens,” he shakes his head.

Despite having never heard those phrases used by literally anyone ever, you take it from context clues that he’s in a predicament that’s got him all scatterbrained. “What’s the matter?” you ask, perching yourself on the arm of the sofa.

As your leg dangles over the side closest to him, he leans over until his head rests just below your knee. “I’ve been scouring the internal net -” His refusal to learn real names of things never stops being endearing - “in search of the ultimate recipe for these gingerbread biscuits I promised to bring.”

You stroke his hair gently, “You know they’re literally just expecting a bunch from the supermarket, right? You don’t need to -”

“I volunteered for a reason!” Ralph frowns. “You remember the utter fiasco that was the last dinner party we threw.”

“The only issue we had that night was that you were putting too much pressure on yourself,” you move your hand down to run the backs of your fingers up and down his jawline.

“And all of the miniature quiches flying across the kitchen floor! Everyone had been talking about how those were their favourite and I ruined it all,” he sighs.

“Yeah, but you didn’t,” you remind him. “We just went across the road, picked some ready-made ones up, shoved them in the oven for a bit and everyone still loved them.”

“But I worked so hard on them,” he falters, but his posture soon returns to him as he sits upright and starts shuffling things around, picking up his notebook. “Which is why I simply must learn from my mistakes! No more shop-bought contributions from Ralph Penbury, absolutely not!”

Oh, Christ. There’s no stopping the Ralph train at this point. All you can do is try and slow it to safety. “So, what’s with all the market research then?”

“Well, I thought perhaps if I seek out multiple sources for their recipes, and simply try to judge what they all use versus what makes them unique and then I can decide on the perfect recipe!” he explains as he quickly scribbles down something the video mentions.

“And how’s that going for you?” you ask, amused.

He looks up at you sadly. “I’m frightfully exhausted. I don’t know whether to add chocolate in there, or lemon - I mean, this recipe calls for bourbon, which sounds just as delightful, too! But surely I can’t add them al-”

“No, you’re definitely right there, you definitely shouldn’t add all the things,” you hurriedly interject, your damage control instinct kicking in. “You know, my nan used to make her own gingerbread biscuits that absolutely slapped. That’s a good thing,” you quickly add, to answer Ralph’s look of confusion. “C’mon, I think I put it in with one of her old books.” You tap his shoulder and get up, prompting him to follow you.

As you take one of the rarely-used books out from the nook you keep them in, Ralph giggles as he teases, “Was that a cloud of dust I saw over that cookbook, darling?”

Raising your eyebrows at him, you cross your arms over your chest. “You talking shit about my cooking skills?”

His eyes widen as his expression falls and he shakes his head quickly. “Not at all, my love!”

You pinch his cheek and grin, “Good boy,” at him before turning back to the book. “I just don’t get to use this much because these recipes take so much ti- ack!” You squawk as you’re interrupted mid-speaking by Ralph planting a very wet kiss on your cheek. You cringe, “Oh my god, why was that so wet?!”

“Would you rather my lips were dry, darling?” Ralph asks sarcastically. You respond by cradling his jaw to push his face close enough to yours to rub your cheek against his.

“I’ve corrupted you,” you shake a finger at him once you've dried your cheek against him. “You're turning into me. Think I preferred you when you were all shy and that,” you tease before thumbing through the pages. “Aha! Alright, can you just fetch the flour out of that cupboard for me, and I’ll get the - Oh, Ralph,” you collapse into giggles as he ends up tipping out some of the flour from the open bag into his hair.

He sputters, “Buh- Puh- Why would you leave it open like that?!”

“I can’t exactly shut a bag like that, can I?” you retort. “Sounds like you need more experience in the kitchen,” you poke his side teasingly, but he doesn’t move. You glance over at him, and thankfully you don’t see his usual pitying, hangdog look he has when he fears he’s upset you. Instead, he looks as though he’s fighting a smile as he bounces on the balls of his feet.

Before you can anticipate what that means, he launches himself at you, rubbing his hair against your face. You both cackle with laughter as you try to hold him at arm’s length. “Down, boy!”

Ralph suddenly stands upright to pout his lower lip out at you. “That’s the second time you’ve spoken to me like I’m a dog.”

“You’re not exactly helping matters, puppy-eyes,” you tease, scooping some flour off of his shoulder and tapping it onto the tip of his nose, which he scrunches at you. You mimic him and you both smile at each other. He’s so adorable, you could kiss him here and now. But then you’ll keep kissing him, and you’ll never get these damn gingerbread people made in time.

“Very well,” Ralph furrows his brow and straightens his face. “What’s next?”

“At ease, Private Penbury,” you grin, “let me handle the rest of this before you end up accidentally making my whole kitchen a mixing bowl. Just go get the new stuff out those shopping bags I put down, please.”

“Oh, yes, I had a question,” Ralph pipes up as you’re counting off the ingredients you take out.

“Shoot.”

“Well, some of these videos and the recipes I found on my telephone, they mentioned an ingredient I’ve never heard of. Um, what are mo-lasses?” He very deliberately separates the first syllable, for some reason.

Still focusing on your task, you simply reply with, “Treacle.”

“Yes, lovebug?” he asks sweetly.

You half-laugh, “No, I mea- oh my god,” you simper as you turn to see him right next to you, having returned from bringing you the rest of what you need, looking at you with wide, loving eyes. “I didn’t mean like the pet name, I mean it’s literally treacle. Americans call it molasses. That’s why we tell you that the first thing you read isn’t always the most helpful to you.” You pull out the tin of treacle you’d just bought from Ralph’s pile and display it as though you were advertising it. “Do me a favour and measure each of these out based on what’s written down?” you ask, and he nods, complying immediately. You kiss his cheek with a, “Thanks, babe,” and gently stroke the shell of his ear as it turns what’s now your favourite shade of pink.

Once he’s measured the ingredients out, opting for the bourbon he’d sought out earlier as his own special added ingredient to your family’s recipe, and you’ve mixed them together - a system which Ralph certainly agrees is best once he’s gotten over the initial shock that came with hearing an electrical hand mixer for the first time - Ralph bounces his knees up and down, clapping enthusiastically, “What’s next?”

You shrug, “We put this in the fridge and leave it for a couple of hours.”

Ralph stops and frowns. “Well, that’s anticlimactic.”

You giggle, “Well, if we shower and get dressed while it’s chilling, that’ll waste an hour. Then once we’ve rolled it all out and shaped it, while it’s cooking, we can make our finishing touches to ourselves, too. Then it’ll be time to take the cookies out, let them cool down and then take them over to Grace’s!”

“Do we not get to decorate them?” Ralph frowns.

“Oh yeah, but we all like doing that together, usually. Grace has all kinds of icing stuff, it’s great fun.”

Ralph starts counting the times up in his head. “Something doesn’t add up here, if it takes two hours to chill, but only one to get ready, what will we possibly be doing for a whole other - oh,” Ralph’s ears blush again as he meets your suggestive gaze. “C-can I at least wash the rest of this flour off of me before… You know…?”

You can’t help but laugh a little, but you manage to keep it under your breath, just shy of his range of hearing. “Of course. Want a hand with that?”

His eyes narrow, “Why would I want assistance wi- ohhh.” This time, your laugh is more audible, but it’s not unkind and Ralph can clearly tell as he smiles bashfully at you. “I most certainly do!”

[highdefinitions]

Ok question time! And I'm sorry if I send multiples, I love this story.

On the relationship timeline, when did Rain realize his feelings for Phantom? Did Dew and Rain ever talk about his feelings? I know in the tags you say everyone is with everyone so I just assumed Dew and Rain had a longer relationship and would talk more. Are Swiss and Aurora a thing? Was the punch in the finals to do because of something with that? I'm not sure why I didn't ask that in the chapter.

I adore that you didn't write them intimate but have to know, were phantom and rain together in those two weeks after the finals? With Dew?

Also yes what cars did they drive???

Thank you for answering and I'm so sorry when I ask more.

you can literally ask me anything about this and i’d be so down to talk i love this fic with my life don’t be sorry for asking anything about it ever

i would say that rain probably realized his feelings for phantom around the first go of playoffs but sort of always tried to shake it off until he couldn’t anymore lol. rain and dew definitely talked about their feelings for phantom (dew and phantom so totally had been fucking before rain ever even thought about making a move). and i would say that swiss and aurora are a thing too. aurora was swiss’ rookie so there’s also that fierce loyalty to him that comes with that so the punch wasn’t any bad blood regarding any relationship or jealousy it was purely a player sticking up for their teammate out of the loyalty and principle of the whole thing.

i would say after the kiss things started to escalate but i don’t have an exact timeline for that since i’ve never really thought about it. i can say that rain probably wanted to keep phantom to himself for as long as possible before dew started complaining about being left out again

there’s always gotta be a player that drives a jeep. and it’s swiss. think reilly and jonesy from letterkenny and that’s swiss and sunny trying to pick up on the off season. aurora drives a truck (ani’s request and i like it). phantom strikes me as a benz guy. dew drives a blacked out porsche because he’s dramatic as fuck! and rain. well rain drives around a really shitty toyota to pick up his boys and the team joke is that rain spends all his money on suits so he can’t afford a nice car. but he has one. a really fancy sports car that he lets sit in his garage. and the first time phantom sees it he’s like “you pick me up in your shitbox toyota when you have this sitting in your garage??” to which rain explains to him that dew spilled beer on the seats in the old one so nobody is allowed in his fancy car anymore. and then phantom gets a little pissed off because rain said The Old One and then he’s faced with the fact that he believed a dumb joke from his teammates because rain does in fact have a multi-million dollar contract with the organization

[seventhstrife]

Do you think that Delsin would just think that Des’s eagle vision would be a type of conduit power? (And also his apple powers and isu marks, can’t forget those lol) i also reeeaaally want to see Del’s reaction to that BURN.

not ME taking five hundred years to reply to an ask skjdfalsd

also I loved this prompt so I wrote a tiny little thing for the scenario that played out in my head haha

keep in mind that I've taken a few liberties with the Infamous lore, namely the Conduit Gene in general, in that I'm implying that the Conduit gene has always been around, just dormant until recent years.

The first time Desmond's forced to use the Apple around Delsin, his reaction is not what he expected.

As a general rule, Desmond tries not to use the Apple unless it's one-hundred-thousand-percent absolutely necessary, and even then he'll still hesitate.

For a lot of reasons, the least of them being him having a thousand years or so of memories of what happens to people who abuse Isu artifacts. Besides, nothing puts a target on his back like the kind of spectacle the Apple creates, and he wouldn't put it past the Templars to have some kind of satellite or something up there that can read the energy surges that come from the Apple.

So. Yeah, it's gotta be life-or-death, minimum for him to whip it out, which means his timeline to explain a lot of things to Delsin gets bumped from never to right the fuck now the moment he lowers the Apple, the glowing lines on his body fade, and the DUP goons all collapse at once like puppets cut from their strings.

Delsin stares at him, mouth hanging open, blood still dripping from the corner of his lip from where a chunk of concrete caught him in the face, with an echoing crack that was going to haunt Desmond's nightmares, as well as that long, terrible moment of stillness when Delsin had fallen and hadn't surged right back up, when Desmond had been positive he was fucking dead.

But Delsin's alive, and even though this isn't how he wanted the truth come out, he can't regret it, not when it means Delsin's alive.

Desmond feels like he's lost a few years of his life from fear in the last few seconds, but Delsin's probable concussion seems to be the last thing on his mind when he pushes himself up, even though he sways.

Desmond's already stepping forward, worried, arm outstretched--but Delsin catches himself before Desmond can take more than a single step, rocking back on a heel before he plants himself more firmly and seems to visibly shake off a blow that would have killed most people.

He looks at Desmond and scowls so mightily Desmond draws up short, freezing with dread because fuck, this is why he hadn't wanted his secret to come out, he was a freak and now Delsin knew it--

"You're a Conduit!" Delsin accused, pointing at Desmond with outrage. "And you didn't tell me?! What the fuck, Desmond!"

"Wha--" Desmond was speechless for a moment. "I--I'm not a Conduit, Delsin!"

"What the fuck was that, then?!"

Alien technology, kind of, Desmond doesn't say because just imagining the fallout of that statement is giving him a headache.

Instead, he says, "That's--different," and winces at how woefully inadequate that is.

"Desmond." Delsin marches to him and Desmond barely resists the urge to run away, especially when Delsin drops heavy, firm hands on his shoulders and holds him in place. "You just shot--lasers or some shit. You were glowing."

"Okay, it wasn't lasers, first of all," Desmond interrupted, scowling. "It was more like--mind control, really. With light beams?" Fuck, he's bad at this.

"Conduits can be psychic," Delsin says slowly, like Desmond's the stupidest person he's ever met. "I know you know this." Delsin's frown is a match to Desmond's own, frustrated that the other person isn't understanding what should be obvious. "Why are you being so weird about this?"

Desmond groans and rubs his face tiredly. He doesn't know why he didn't see this coming; of course, to an outsider, Isu bullshit would look a lot like having powers...which, he did have, technically.

But this was different.

"Look, this is like--genetic--"

"Conduit powers are genetic--"

"No, I mean like, it's in my family--"

"Do you not understand what genetic means?"

"No! Listen to me! I can't do this shit without the Apple!"

"Plenty of Conduits use tools to help focus their powers."

"This isn't--"

"So you're telling me if you gave this Apple thing to someone else, they could do what you just did?"

"Well, no, not anyone--"

"Just people with these special genetics, right?" Delsin's staring down at him with an exaggeratedly mild expression. "Like a Conduit?"

"Oh my fucking god, you're so stubborn--"

"Look who's talking!" Delsin shook him. "You're a Conduit, idiot!"

Desmond groans again, louder, and his head falls back. Only Delsin's grip on him keeps him from falling back.

"Just--come back with me, okay? Rebecca and Shaun can explain it better than me."

"Good idea," Delsin says gamely. He sweeps Desmond up in his arms, because he doesn't believe in asking permission or personal space. "I think an intervention sounds perfect."

and then they get to their base and shaun and rebecca explain the isu shit but because they're nerds at heart, having the similarities between conduits and isu genes compared devolves into a circling conversation of exchanging theories and they can't exactly say delsin's totally wrong and desmond finds a corner to bang his head until delsin pulls him away, smugly bragging that he was right and then spirits him away for a more practical demonstration because now that he knows desmond has powers they've GOT to take them out on the town and they make out the end <3

thanks as always for the awesome asks @kingbob2-0 you're the best! and also thank you a million times for your patience lol

[come-along-pond]

"i wake up screaming from dreaming." with Kate, pretty please?? 🖤🖤🖤

warnings: foul language (lol), major spoilers for s3 of the boys.

a/n: fully aware you can't really read this one yet as well lol, it'll be like a finishing show treat. Also I am brave enough to admit that my characterisation for Billy is super off lol. Just tryna get some practice in before I work on the main fic.

Butcher’s flat is strangely quiet, Kate would have thought the silence would drive him mad, but maybe that’s the point. He offers her a cuppa and sits her down on his sofa, it feels strangely intimate for their relationship considering the other things they get up to. 

“Billy,” she isn’t sure how to approach this, how to tell him that he’s probably lost his mind and that she’ll stab him if she sees him take one more dose of Temp-V.

“Yeah?” he’s pouring the water into cups, he only had a second one for her, it took far too long than he’d care to admit to find one. Yes he could have got the cheapest, first one he saw. But he didn’t, and so now the second mug in his flat looked somewhat vintage and had a light lipstick stain on it. 

“I um…hmm,” Kate bites her tongue, unable to get the words out “The temp-V…”

Billy sighs “Fucking hell,” 

“Billy- “

“Hughie’s already got Annie up his arse, I don’t need you up mine,”

“I know, but Jesus fucking Christ Butcher you’re killing yourself,” Kate stands, turning sharply to see Billy stood over his counter, palms face down on it “It’s your body, it’s your choice I know that. But what about the people who rely on you?”

“Like who?” he scoffs.

“Ryan! You pushed him away because you thought he’d be safer but you know you’re wrong. What about Hughie? What about me?”

“And why do you care darlin’?”

“Oh, don’t be cunt Billy,” Weirdly Kate was the one getting angry, Butcher seemed beaten, like he’d already lost this argument with himself “Of course I fucking care about you! Of course I don’t want to be stood over your dead body or a gravestone!”

“Why hm? Why do you give a fuck about me?”

“You know why,” Kate sighs, and Billy looks left and sees her glassy eyes, slowly approaching her

“Maybe I wanna hear you say it,” 

“You won’t say anything back,”

“Maybe I will,”

“I don’t want you to die because I love you,” Kate looks down “Because I’m fucking in love with you and Jesus Christ in the middle of the night, I wake up screaming, from dreaming that you’re dead at my feet at guess what? Homelander isn’t there. It’s just you because you’ve done it to yourself,”

“You think you don’t deserve love,” Kate meets his eyes “But you do. I’ve seen what you deem the worst parts of yourself, fuck I’ve seen you beat a man bloody to death and inject that green shit into your veins,” she gestures to where he kept the V “And I love you, and I just want you to be alive long enough for you to understand that,”

Billy sighs, he’d asked her to explain, but he didn’t expect her to actually do it. She was right, he didn’t think he deserved her, but she was here, and it was clear she wasn’t giving up any time. He wraps his arms around Kate, pulling her to him, her body shakes as she breathes, her own arms wrapping around him.

“I love you, I do and I’m sorry,” he mutter quietly into her hair “but that’s why I can’t get that those supe cunts get near you,”.

-----&-----

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[asirensrage]

I am in need of whatever comfort drabbles you are willing to share; sadness be damned! Lay it on me!

Have I told you how much I adore people indulging me? Thank you to you and to @starlit-epiphany for doing so. <3

As mentioned, it involves an oc, nanami kento and gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen. I don’t have a fic planned, it was just a scene that was in my head and needed to be written so I could move on lol

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Rating: PG

Warnings: mention of/reference to child abuse.

It bounces between a couple povs. Implied future Nanami x oc

She pushes against it, watching as no matter how hard she tries, she can’t touch him. The feeling wells up before she can ever stop it and before she knows it, she’s punching at the space in frustration and anger. She finally stops as she collapses, bursting into tears. 

--

His grin fades and he glances around, looking for someone to save him. He’s never been good with crying. Her friend was going to kill him.

“Hey hey hey,” he crouches down. “It’s okay. No one’s been able to touch me.” He means it to be comforting, to tell her she’s not weak for it, but it just makes her cry more. Shit. He didn’t want that. Gojo hovers, unsure of what to do. 

“It’s not you,” she chokes out. She wipes her eyes furiously as if she’s trying to erase the fact that she’s still crying. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t hurt you, did I? Can I get something? Someone? What about your friend? Where is she?” 

She laughs slightly but she doesn’t move and Gojo is still panicking. She finally sits down on the side of the walkway they had been fooling around on. He was just showing off. He didn’t intend for any of this. He sits down next to her. He’s an asshole, but only to those who deserve it like the higher-ups. Not girls who get drawn into this world by accident. 

“You okay?”

She shakes her head but doesn’t explain and Gojo just sighs. How’s he going to explain to her friend that he made her cry? That woman is going to be furious. Then again, he likes seeing her furious. There’s something about that righteous anger that just does things to him. …should he be concerned about that? Nah. 

“Gojo-san…is she crying?”

Gojo looks up in relief. Even if Nanami sounds pissed, at least it’s someone to take her off of his hands. “Nanamin!”

“What did you do?” 

“Me? Why do you think I did anything?”

The tall blond doesn’t dignify to give him a response. Instead, he strides forward and crouches in front of the woman. “Are you okay?” His voice is softer and Gojo can’t help but smile as he watches the two of them. He’s never known Nanami to show interest in anyone. It’s intriguing and fun. He can’t wait to tease him about it…when someone isn’t crying. Gojo takes the chance to disappear, confident that she’s taken care of now. 

--

She sighs in relief once she feels Gojo leave. Nanami hesitates before he sits down beside her. 

“Did he hurt you?” 

She shakes her head and wipes at the tears that are still falling. It shouldn’t hurt this much. “No, he was just…he was showing me the limitless thing, where no one can touch him.”

Nanami frowns slightly but doesn’t press for answers. He just waits. 

She doesn’t understand it, but she feels safe with him. Maybe it’s his presence, that steadfast reassurance that he gives off. It could also be the way that he actually sees her, that he doesn’t push for answers or demand she gets out of her comfort zone. As soon as she wants to leave a place, he finds her a way. 

“I just…it’s not fair,” her voice cracks and she pulls her knees to her chest. She wraps her arms around them, trying to make herself smaller as she buries her face in them. 

“There are many things in this life that are not. You will have to explain.” 

She chokes out a laugh and lifts her head. She doesn’t look at him. “It’s not fair,” she says again. “I could have…if I had been born with that, the ability to keep people from touching me…everything would have changed. It reacts naturally, right? Like it would out of fear? So when I was a kid it would have–” she cuts herself off. “They wouldn’t have touched me.”

Nanami goes still next to her. She curls up tighter as the realization of what she said sets in. She doesn’t like to tell people. It’s none of their business and anything they know can be used against her. 

“Who?” His tone is dark, demanding in a way that weirdly thrills her. She shoves that far down. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “It’s not like they’re here. Besides, it was years ago.” 

He doesn’t move and she glances over, curious and afraid to see his reaction. She’s always hated telling people because of how different they’d see her. As if she was tainted somehow. The sight of his clenched jaw, the tension in his shoulders and the way he’s holding himself, as though he’s holding back from ripping out the spine of something, catches her attention. She sits up straighter.

“Nanami?” she calls him without thinking. “Are you okay?”

“Am I–?” he says it like he can’t believe she’s asking him that. “You just told me that and you’re asking if I’m okay?” 

She shrugs. “Yeah?” She wipes the tears off her face, finally having stopped crying at the sight of his rage. She’s never seen someone this angry before, at least not on her behalf. 

He lets out a ragged breath. “Forgive me,” he says. “I had no intention of startling you. This was not what I expected when I came across you.” 

She laughs slightly. “I know, it’s…it’s okay.” 

There’s an awkward silence that settles around them and Sai shifts slightly, trying to quell the urge to flee from him. Something tells her that he’d catch her and that…that’s terrifying. 

“May I ask you something?” 

“Hmm? Go ahead. Not like you don’t know the worst of me now.” 

He turns to her, eyes meeting hers. “It is not the worst of you,” he tells her. There’s that steadfast reassurance. It feels different though. “I do not know the details of what was done, but as you said, you were a child. There were those around you meant to protect you from such things. It is a failure on their part, not yours.” 

Her throat tightens. “Thank you.” 

He nods. 

“What…what did you want to ask me?” She’s hesitant now. It feels different between them all of a sudden. The dynamic has shifted and she’s left off-kilter. 

He sighs slightly, his gaze softening behind his glasses. “With all that has happened, how is it that you maintain…your joy? Where do you hold it all?”

“Oh!” she smiles slightly at that, taken by surprise. That was not what she expected. “Um…”  she looks out at the garden in front of them. “I didn’t use to. I used to be really angry at everything. I didn’t hold any expectations but regardless of what happens or what has happened in life, there are always moments where to find that joy. It doesn’t have to be anything big. It can be…the way leaves blow in the wind, hearing a child’s laughter, taking that first bite of something delicious or seeing the way the people you care about light up for whatever reason. There’s always joy to be found in the world. You just have to look for it.” She sniffles, breaking the serious tone of it all. She laughs before apologizing. 

Nanami is still staring at her but she can’t make out the expression behind his glasses. She thinks he’s trying not to smile but she can’t be too sure. Nanami holds his expressions tightly, like she does hers. 

“Remarkable.”

“Hmm?” She asks, looking back at him. 

He stands up, offering her a hand. “Come. You should drink some water after crying.” 

“Okay,” she takes his hand and can’t help but feel how tight his grip is and the strength he uses to pull her up easily. She wonders what it would be like to have it on her waist before she shoves that thought down. Imagining is all good, but she doesn’t react well to it in reality. Maybe it would be different…now that he knows. 

He doesn’t let go right away and when he does, his hand moves to the small of her back, ushering her in the right direction. Something releases in her chest. It’s the same careful way he’s always treated her. Nothing has changed. 

you know how i said this was sad but kind of comforting? this is why lol don't ask me how my brain works but I could just sense he'd be that steadfest reassurance that everything would be okay.

I'd also get the sense that this scene would be in the same 'verse but much much later