#putting this in the tags is like throwing a rock at a glass house but idc im mad

[bloodybellycomb]

Time and time again, the internet will claim to want more "unhinged" female characters but the moment a female character does (1) one thing that is slightly immoral or even just a bit questionable, everyone loses their collective minds and they start writing like 100-page dissertations on why she is "bad representation" and how she will "set a negative example"

And it becomes abundantly clear that when some people say they want "unhinged" female characters, what they really mean is they want a totally normal girl who just looks like she shops at hot topic

[pick-me-up-im-scared]

Call Me When You Need Me (Ellie Williams x Reader) (Fluff)

Short Summary: When your best friend Ellie has problem sleeping you come over to help her. Like you always do!

Author´s Note: Another random idea I got that I thought would be waaay shorter. It´s not that long, but it's longER than I planned to. Istg, the universe wants me to write +5k fanfics. Everythime I come up with an idea for a blur (cause they're way quicker to write) I end up adding so much to it you can't even call it that. Anyway, hope you'll enjoy just a super cute little story! (I'm the person who tries to fill the "ellie x reader"-tag with stuff that isn't smut. Like I didn't just post two smuts right after each other a week ago.................)

Also! Ellie lives in the same house as Joel in this. Even though I'm well aware she has her own "hut" in the game

Words: 1473

(Pictures aren´t mine! I found them on Pinterest)

The empty streets felt oddly peaceful as you wandered down the oh, so familiar road. Only the streetlights lighting up your path as your sleepy feet stumbled on the sidewalk. It wasn’t unusual to find you walking down these streets at 3 am. You found yourself in this situation a little too often. Not that you complain! When your best friend needs you, she needs you. The crispy night air forced you to cross your arms in order to keep some warmth. Despite being near fall you decided to skip out on a jacket and just go with your outwashed hoodie. Big mistake. But it’s not that bad. Though you’d lie if you´d say you didn’t miss your warm, cozy bed. Just the thought was enough to put a drowsy smile on your face. You continued to kick rocks you stumbled upon on the sidewalk as you, trying to not hit any of the parked cars beside you, cause you know.......karma. Soon you noticed the familiar fence you helped painting white one summer. By the looks of it, it could use a little touch-up. Getting onto the lawn you quickly made your way to the back. The house was completely pitch black apart from one single window on the right corner.

You walked over to the corner of the porch, making sure to sneak a few glances through the dark windows, just to make sure Joel wasn’t up to grab a glass of water or something. But you’re just met with your own reflection in the surprisingly clean windows. You jumped up on the fence that tastefully decorated the porch to reach the edge of the roof. You took a sturdy grip around the aged wood before pushing yourself up the brick plated surface. This was nothing new to you. It was more of a routine. Getting called over to your friends house at least five times a week you kinda start to come up with a few tricks to make your arrival more smooth. Why are you climbing the house like you're a fucking monkey? you may as. The first time Ellie called me over you both thought Joel would be pissed if he knew. So you came up with the brilliant idea, with your life at risk, to climb up from the back. Yes, Ellie tired to prevent you from doing it, but you're too stubborn. She knows that damn well. And yes, you're pretty sure you've got a six-pack from all the times you've pushed your whole body onto the porch roof. But by the morning neither of you considered Joel's daily visit. So when he came to tell Ellie it's breakfast he was sure surprised to see you laying there, holding her. But he wasn't mad.....not at all. And when it was time for you to leave he made sure to throw out "You can take the door next time!". Despite that you continued to take your not-so-convenient way into Ellie's room. You saw it more as a fun thing, and you like to believe Ellie enjoys to too. Even thought she mumbled a "You're so dumb" before giving you a welcome hug.

You carfully got up from your crunched up position, being careful not to strainght out your back too much or you'll probably fall down and break your neck. At this height you could outline more details in the only lit up room, as if you didn’t know it by memory. You noticed the small crack Ellie always made sure to leave every night incase she got the urge that’s currently the reason you’re here. She didn’t want to have to get up and open it when you got there. Also, she’s been very clear that you can come over whenever you feel like it. Day as night. You used your finger to loop around the thick glass and push it up enough to give you the opportunity to get a better grip. You slid the glass into the slit, just enough to squeeze yourself through. The noice made Ellie quickly turn her head from her position on her bed. Just the look of you made her smile. "You came!" she happily exclaimed. You giggled "Of course! You said you had problem sleeping”.

Your beaten up sneakers barely got to touch the floor before Ellie threw herself at you, slamming you into the nearby wall. She continued to hug you, tighten up her grip. You chuckled, "Hey, hey! You shouldn't try to mush me like ground beef. Who´s gonna keep you company then?". Ellie let go off you and took a step back, giving you the chance to get away from the wall. "I'm sure you can take it" she snarky remarked "Weren't you the one who's got a six-pack" she sarcastically asked while slapping her hand against your clothed stomach. "Ow!" you screaked while backing way from her hand. Ellie just chucked before making her way back to her bed, signaling you to take place beside her. You let the strap of your backpack slide down your arms before leaving it by the end of Ellie's bed, to then quickly kick off your lazy tied shoes before crawling up the comfy bed.

You let out a deep sigh as your back hit the mattress, "I´ve told you to just call me whenever you need me". "I know" Ellie mumbled before looking to the side, "But you deserve to sleep too". "I never sleep as good as I do in your bed" you reassured her as. She smiled a little, but she wasn't convinced. She's tried to fall asleep by herself when she has one of these...nights, but it's impossible! There's been times where she hasn't called you even thought she should have. Just cause she feels bad for forcing you out of bed. She never told you this or you'd kill her. She's lost count of all the times you've told her to just call you when she feels down or can't sleep.

You place your hands behind your head, looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers Ellie swore she'd get rid off, but hasn't "had the time to". But you swore she was lying. She's always been such a bad liar. But you think it's adorable, so you don´t mind. "I swear I'm getting us a house someday. That way you wouldn't have to call me whenever you have problem sleeping", Ellie smirked at you. "Yeah?" she asked while shooting herself closer to your laying from. "Yep! Then you could just come over to my room" you frowned a little "Or we might share the same bedroom...". You shrug "Or I mean, we're sleeping in the same bed now, so we could save a lot of money if we just get one". Ellie smiled at the thought but soon her face fell a little "How would that work when you bring a girl over?". You shot your head to give her a confused face "What the fuck, Ellie?" you grabbed a pillow from behind you to hit her playfully "I don´t even bring that many girls over!". "Suuure" Ellie playfully rolled her eyes while wearing that shit-eating grin.

You huffed before pushing her back against the bed so you could straddle her. Ellie had to stop herself from blushing at the sudden contact, but she's pretty sure you'd still notice if you weren't busy continuing hitting her with the pillow. You giggle "You play me out to be some type of slut!". She just shrugged "Maybe you are". You huffed once more, louder this time, before getting off Ellie's lap with a defeated look. "Fuck you, Ellie" you mumbled before throwing the pillow at her. She just laughs as she catches it and put it back to its original place. "Should we get to bed now? You know, the reason I'm here?". "Oh!" Ellie quickly adjusted herself "Yeah, that'd be nice". You grabbed the cover that was messily tossed to the side and placed it over you to. "You want me to read you a bed time story?". Ellie laughed "Fuck you, (y/n)". You smirked as you reached over her to turn off the lamp on her beside table. The feeling of your body being pressed against her made it hard for Ellie to focus, but thank god you soon got back to your previous position behind her.

You wrapped your arms around her frame before pulling her into your embrace. Transferring your warmth onto her. “You don’t have to come here every time, you know?” Ellie clarified. “No, I know” you answered “But I want to” you added before burring your face in the nape of her neck, automatically squeeze her torso a little tighter. Ellie couldn’t help but release a relaxed sigh, finally at peace.

[brokentrafficknight]

Wholesome au cinder breaks a vace by mistake ands to ptsd from the madame she falls begging fir forgiveness from her new parents witch leads to group hug and lots of parental head kisses and " its okay mommy and daddy are here"

There is no feasible way for me to do this with just chibis lmao

Have poorly written fanfiction instead c:

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

The crash came before Cinder even had a chance to turn and catch her mistake. She’d been told countless times not to chase Ruby through the house and now, as she turned to see just what they had done, the rush of playing with her sister had died. Scattered across the floor of the living room were the pieces of her mother’s vase.

“Oooh…” Cinder didn’t have to look back to know Ruby was peeking her head out from the kitchen, no longer confused why their game of tag had been abruptly cut short. “C-Cindy—”

“Get the broom, Ruby,” Cinder choked the words out, head held low as she counted the shards of porcelain. Her hands balled up into shaking fists until her whole body started to tremble. She could already hear Jaune, Pyrrha and Summer’s footsteps approaching. Their words were drowned out by the sinking feeling in Cinder’s chest as memories of the Glass Unicorn resurfaced.

A shaky hand clutched for the Madam’s collar, waiting for the shock to come as her throat tightened and every breath became more and more difficult to take in. Tears welled in Cinder’s eyes against her will. Poisonous words filled her thoughts and dropped her to her knees scooping up the broken vase together into a pile,‘This is my fault, they’re going to hate me.’

‘They’re going to put you back in a collar. How could anyone love someone like you?’

‘You’re nothing. Broken. Unwanted. Unwelcome.’

Gentle hands took hers and gently squeezed, snapping her out of the fog as she looked up into warm, deep blue eyes. There wasn’t a hint of the anger and hate that she had been dreading, only the concern and care of her father. Jaune’s voice was calm and soft as he said, “You’re okay, just breathe.”

“I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry… Please don’t hate me, I’m–” Another hand covered hers and Cinder’s eyes met her mother’s, Pyrrha’s. Her mother merely smiled and shook her head at every apology Cinder made. Her hand yanked away from Jaune’s to clutch at her collar, only finding the jewel pendant they had given her for her birthday.

Summer drew her into a hug, rocking her back and forth just whispering, “It’s going to be okay, Cindy. We love you.” Hot tears streamed down Cinder’s cheeks, stinging her face as she broke into weak sobs and clung to Summer for dear life. Jaune and Pyrrha hugged both of them tight, laying soft kisses to Cinder’s head and rubbing her back as she began to catch her breath. “It’s just a vase.”

----

The pieces of the vase were gathered up after Jaune carried Cinder off to the kitchen to get her some water and a snack. The table the vase had sat on would go without it for a month before Pyrrha would proudly set a ‘new’ one there. The cracks were sealed back together with a powdered gold lacquer. Standing behind the rest of her family, Cinder admired the work from far nervously.

Amber eyes met emerald green and Pyrrha smiled brightly, motioning for her to come closer, dropping low to be closer to her daughter’s height. Cinder approached slowly, cautiously, before being pulled into a warm hug that she couldn’t help but smile. When Pyrrha whispered into Cinder’s ear, she felt her heart swell, “Something precious being broken doesn’t mean you have to throw it away. Not when you can fix it. I think it looks prettier like this.”

[localkiss]

Princess Sprinkles!

Vendetta Chris Redfield x fem reader!

cw: dd/lg, creampie, squirting (guys idk how squirting feels like....), multiple orgasms (reader), fingering, pet names, praise kink, oral fixation (reader obv), light mentions of breeding, soft dom!Chris!!, afab terms used, size kink ish.., Chris being silly, Chris being a lil mean one time, and some fluff :3 !! — Lmk if I missed anything.

wc: 2005 !! (🤭 birth year go crazyy LOL!)

notes: if you don't like ddlg just um. Idk don't read 💀!! I fr try not to make the reader teeny tiny but like dude Chris is huge asf.. size kink go brrr 🧎🏻‍♀️! I'll be making reader a lil squishy from now on bc I'm not skinny either ☝🏻.Also I used to watch the Bratz babyz movie on repeat sm that the disc got ruined 😭😭 soo.. yes that part is directly from yours truly! Not proof read 😵‍💫

tags: @argreion, @rigorwhoring bc ily guys 😇!!

"Daddy!" You squeal as soon as Chris picks you up and spins you around. Making your fluffy mini pleated skirt twirl upwards.

Chris hoists your pretty body over his shoulders and pats you on the butt, practically skipping towards your shared bedroom. It looks like someone dumped all the squishmallows possible into the master bedroom. He can't help but think of you every time he sees a stuffed animal. Shits rooted in his brain. Stuffies = his angel!

Yeah, he might have to fight with them to make room for himself, but he wouldn't trade it for any other way. He doesn't actually fight them, knowing you'd throw a hissy fit and say "Hate daddy! Forever 'n ever!" Chris's heart shatters like glass whenever you say that.

He's grown softer because of you and those little threats of yours make his heart drop down to the core of the Earth. Would he admit it to team Alpha? No. Never in a million years. But they've got eyes and ears, they're not Patrick Star. Dumb and living under a rock.

Lately he's been covered in hickeys and cute little doodles that're supposed to be like tattoos by yours truly. Goes to work and gets teased by his squad, telling him how you've got him wrapped around your pretty little finger. How much you've changed him, for the better. He always shrugs them off, putting them back to work.

You for sure made Chris cut back on smoking a fuck ton. Constantly crying about how the stench will ruin your stuffies and the coat the walls of the house with a film. You're right, that's for sure. And the fact that second hand smoke is even worse is what clicks it into his head for him. His baby. His sweetheart, could end up dying because of his stupid ass habits.

Chris has lost too many of his men because of his habits. Too many good men. You are his savior. He pounds away the guilt into your needy little cunt. Constantly craving him. Needing him. Loving him. Honest to God, he needs that more than anything in this lifetime.

"Sweetheart," he sighs and sets you down onto the bed. "I missed you. Whatcha been up to?"

"Slept 'n colored and um... Ate some snackies, watch movie, 'n had lotsa juice!" You mumble, eyes glancing around the entire room. Using your hands to talk, as your words get slurred when you're in this state of mind.

Chris presses a faint kiss to your temple and noses down to the underside of your ear. Carefully holding the back of your head with his hand. He gives you more kisses and blows raspberries into your ear, making you squeal and swat at him.

"That's good baby. Glad you had a productive day." Chris smiles at you lovingly.

Your heart then swoons, making you feel all mushy inside. Praise gets him everything from you. Just like you crying out for daddy gets you everything from him!

He lazily starts to unbuckle his belt, pulling it through the loops. Setting it down on the bedside table with a thud. He starts to undo his fly, pushing his pants all the way down, kicking out of them.

Only dressed in his boxers and shirt, he engulfs you with a hug. Nuzzling into your neck, feeling your hands grab ahold of his shirt.

"Daddy?"

"Just recharging honey, hold on." His voice is deep and gruffy, sending chills up your spine.

You lay there, body buzzing with warmth as his figure presses you into the mattress. His hips shift and move against yours, causing you to gasp.

Thighs squeezing against his fit waist and he sighs into your neck. "Daddy's not charge. He excited..." Your fingers tug on his shirt and he sits up.

"Off?" Pointing to his shirt and you clumsily remove your own shirt and skirt. Now both of you are only in your underwear. Well, you still have your white thigh highs on, but still.

He presses your thighs up to your chest and settles in the middle as best as he can. Feeling his skin on your skin feels like heaven. Makes your panties wet, which he's noticed but doesn't want to say anything about it. Knowing you get all shy and embarrassed when he points things out like that. He likes it. Thinks it's cute that you want skin ship.

"So pretty baby," he pushes his hips forward. His cock catching onto your clit with each slow roll. "Pretty pussy, pretty tits. Pretty girl. My pretty girl."

Chris leans back and gets rid of his boxers. Pulling your panties up to slip his cock between your folds. Laying back down on top of you. Humping you instead of fucking you.

You can't complain, his tip his pressing against your clit nicely. Your hips rolling up to meet his and his dick slips inside.

He bottoms out immediately with a growl. "Baby. Did I say you could put it in?" Chastising you with a rough thrust, acting like it's your fault his dick slipped inside of your tiny hole.

"Daddy, didn't mean to. Not m'fault," you whine out, kicking your legs.

"S'okay. Daddy will make it all better." Chris presses a kiss to your forehead and acts like he's going to pull it out. Only to harshly thrust it back into you. "Fuck, princess. She's not wanting to let me go. You hear her crying for me?"

Moaning, you dig your nails into his back, "Daddy, daddy, never leave," you start babbling already.

He groans and rabbits his hips, making the bed rock against the wall.

"Wait, daddy, stuffies no want look, turn," you try to speak as he continues to fuck you like he hates you.

"Shit, okay baby. Hold on," he grunts and turns them around as best as he can. "Better now?"

You nod and go in for a kiss and he meets you halfway. Drooling into your mouth and your tongues swirl together before you suck on his. Moaning as he drives himself deeper inside of you. Squelching sounds and skin on skin echoing in the bedroom. Surely you guys won't get a noise complaint this time!

He spits into your mouth and smears it all over your lips with his thumb, pushing it into your mouth. Who needs a pacifier when you've got daddy's thumb?

Watching your eyes flutter shut and your lips wrapping around his thumb, it sets him off. His other hand driving down between you both and rubbing harshly at your puffy nub.

Biting down, you furrow your eyebrows. Breathing quickly and moaning softly. "Close," you hum around his digit. Sucking on it as you get closer and closer.

Chris's dick hits a special spot inside of you and your body shakes underneath him. Pussy trying to push out his cock as a clear liquid shoots out of you.

"Goddamn, baby, squirting on me, mmhh—fuck..." His hips falter and he dumps his cum inside of you. Resting his body on you, burying you into the bed. Making sure his cum never leaves you.

Chris pulls his thumb out of your mouth and kisses you feverishly. "Putting a baby in you, s'that alright princess?" Your pussy agrees by clenching around his thickness.

But he's acting like you've got a choice, since he's already done the deed. He pulls you up into his arms and you guys slowly make your way to the bath. Still connected and full.

Keeping you in his arms, he reaches down to turn on the water and put in the plug. You giggle and some of his cum starts to spurt out and drip down his balls. He settles in the tub with you on his lap, grabbing the soap to fill it with bubbles.

Chris slowly lifts you off of his length and sets you between his legs. Back pressed against his hairy chest. While his cum dribbles out of you.

His fingers make their way down to your sensitive cunt and slowly dips them inside. "Shh, I know baby," pressing soft kisses to your cheek as you whine and claw weakly at his forearms. The other one is keeping you pressed against him.

"Daddy's helping you baby," he starts to curl his fingers and your legs shake. Clearly overstimulated from earlier. But Chris starts to be a bit greedy, smacking his palm against your pretty little pearl.

Throwing your head back against his shoulder, he coaxes you into another orgasm. With the disguise of helping you get his cum out. If anything, he's trying to fuck it back into. Serious about putting a mini him or you inside of your tummy.

"Baby, almost there. Y'got it princess.. mmh.. cum one more time for daddy? Promise I'll clean you up and get us some donuts with sprinkles on 'em, just the way you like." Man, he's even bribing you! Daddy knows what you really want right now. So you whimper in response.

"Daddy, mmhhff... Daddy oh god! Please, please, please!" Your heels dig into the tub as the water fills it. His lips sucking and biting into your neck is what makes you cream around his digits.

Body convulsing and breath raggedy and higher as you come down from your second high of the night. Chris grabs your face and kisses you all over, mumbling praises into your skin. "Good girl, daddy's so proud of you."

Then, he takes his time washing you off, letting you play with the rubber duckies and splashing water onto him. Putting bubbles on his beard and making one for yourself.

"I daddy! See?" You pout and furrow your eyebrows, taking a drag of an imaginary cigarette. Chris rolls his brown eyes and takes the imaginary cigarette and puts it out.

"Babies can't do that stuff, remember? Only daddies can do that, silly baby girl." He wipes the bubbles off of your face and his, nibbling on your earlobe. Making chewing noises, "Om nom nom, my baby tastes so yummy!"

You squeal and press your face into your shoulder. "Daddy! Got wash so we can eat nummy donut! Donut sprinkle!"

He hums and gets to work. Gently washing your back and hair as you wash your front side and down to your toes. Chris hauls you up and he turns on the shower to wash your hair and his. God knows he needs this shower after training his new squad mates today.

Chris washes his own figure as you cup the water in your tiny hands and splash it up in the air. Watching you pretend you have powers as the water runs down your arms and to the tips of your fingers.

"Alright princess. Let's go get some sprinkled donuts," he pats your heart shaped ass with a chuckle. Wrapping you in a fuzzy towel, he gets to work drying you off. It reminds you of that Bratz babyz movie. Sure reminds him of it too. From how often you guys watched it, the CD stopped working and you threw a fit.

So of course, he bought a couple more, just in case. It's not like he doesn't have the money for it. So why not keep his baby sated with something so simple as a 2000s movie? He even bought you some Bratz dolls and monster high ones. Likes how you squeal and jump around in excitement every time he buys you something so simple as a doll. Makes him happy.

"Princess sprinkles and daddy sprinkles! Getting donut sprinkles! Sprinkles, sprinkles, sprinkles!" You laugh as he puts on your blue matching cinnamoroll pajamas that he spent fifty dollars on. Worth it in his opinion. Looks so cute on you, he can't help but press kisses all over your cheeks.

"Alright, alright, princess sprinkles. Let's go get in the car. Daddy'll buy you all the chocolate sprinkled donuts there is at the bakery." Chris's heart thumps in his chest. Yeah, there's a sprinkled shaped hole with a sprinkle version of you in his heart.

[ohmypawsandwhiskers]

It's WIP Wednesday!

I actually remembered this time!

Here's a snippet of the birthday thing I've been working on for Erwin's birthday (however late I may be)

The cobwebs crowd the corners and crevices of the abandoned school house, making the single classroom and it’s long tables seem more like a mausoleum than a former place of learning. Beyond the grimy glass, the people of Emmrich distract amble about their way, wearing smiles and bright eyes as the mourning of the teenage boy goes unnoticed, save for whomever just waltzed in behind him.

“Erwin, we were looking everywhere-“ her voice, that is beginning to become a soothing constant in his life, pauses as Dani’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder. “You okay?”

He swallows back the tears once more and turns to face her with a raised eyebrow. “You were looking for me?”

He hardly expected anyone to be around- it’s why he is here in the school house, spending his first birthday alone in the musty room. It is the closest he can get to spending it with his father, even if it is a ghost of a memory. Even if his mistake cost him his father- all so the government could ensure the peace and prosperity continued.

She tilts her head slightly, golden eyes scanning him over for some sign of a joke. “Seriously? Didn’t you get my letter?”

He shakes his head, trying to piece together what might have brought her here.

“So, you’re telling me I went through the effort of practicing my letters only for it to not reach you? See, this is why I didn’t learn to write in the first place! What’s the point of learning a different form of communication if it doesn’t even reach the person, huh?”

“You wrote me?” It comes a shock. The times he tried to work with her on her penmanship as she bemoaned the entire process- doing everything it took to not sit down and learn that he had been afraid to tell Chief he would be unable to actually teach her.

“Yeah!” She throws up her hands in exasperation. “I actually put effort into it, making it all fancy and shit for you, only to find out you didn’t get to see all your hard work payoff!” Dani huffs and looks around the room, distracted from her tirade as he can practically see the cogs in her mind wheeling as they piece together this place. The frustration fades from her face and relaxes into cautious understanding. “Your dad’s school house?”

Erwin can feel the heat rush to his cheeks as he nods, crossing his arms over his chest as he prepares himself for questions.

“It’s a bit of a shit-hole now, isn’t it?” Her words remind him of their first interaction less than a year ago- it had been brisk and jarring, but he found her words and tone sometimes failed to reflect the underlying emotion behind it all. “You’re choosing to spend a beautiful day inside some neglected place conveniently forgotten by the district’s lords instead of being outside?”

“It’s my birthday,” he admits, knowing she would drag this conversation out if he didn’t head her off. “It’s the first one on my own, and I suppose I just wanted to not be alone.”

Dani purses her lips to hide a smirk. “Hmm, yes, spiders do make great companions. Great conversationalists, I’ve heard.”

“Is there a point to your sarcasm, Dani?”

“Yes, it’s to get you out of your cruddy mood and get going! We’re going to be late! I’m just laying out your choices: spend your birthday chatting to ghosties and spiders, or spend time with me and a bunch of folks that care about you.”

Like the scales of justice she holds out her hands on either side of her, rocking side to side with the imaginary weight of his choices. Erwin reaches out and catches her wrist mid-drop to halt the movement.

“You never did say where we were going- that’s hardly enough to sway a choice. Maybe spiders would be the perfect birthday companions.” Already, his glum mood is starting to crack as a small smile accompanies his counterpoint.

No pressure tags: @askweisswolf @jayteacups @sleepy-sham @deepmushrooms @topaz-carbuncle @the-rebel-archivist @the-mpreg-guy and anyone else that would like to do this! I always get nervous tagging folks

[cthulhu-calling]

See You In Hell i

Natasha Romanoff x f!Reader

Warnings : alcohol, drugs, one night stands

Author's Note : If you couldn't tell, reader (as in you!) are Hades. I haven't mentioned any specific body type or other physical traits. My readers are mostly woc when I write them but anyone can read. More tags will be added but for this chapter your warnings are listed below. Happy reading!

Summary : When a dangerous group gets their hands on a substance that could mean the end of the world as we know it, it's on you to find out how to stop them. Of course, you don't mind some help along the way. Especially when it's in the form of a redheaded former assassin.

Word Count : 2155

series masterlist

This was getting old. Every night a long pub crawl, only coming to an end with the arrival of Apollo himself. Stepping through the doors of your penthouse, the tight leather of your pants sticking to you like a second skin, you really wished you hadn’t given her your spare key. 

Hecate lounged on your couch, one of the few pieces of furniture in your otherwise sparse living room. ‘Minimalism is all the rage’, the interior designer had said. A steaming mug of what you believed was peppermint tea was in her delicate hands. 

“Is there any whiskey in that by any chance?” you wondered out loud.

As an immortal being, a God, you couldn’t possibly get drunk on human liquor, though that didn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate the taste of a tumbler of aged scotch or a glass of wine that would put Dionysus to shame. Living forever loses its appeal after a couple hundred millennia. It was fun at first, great wars and even greater monsters. The high of slaying the horrors that had been unleashed upon the world by Kronos enough to make you continue this whole God gig and the shenanigans that came along with it. Thanks Dad. 

Rolling her deep brown eyes, she moved towards you before pushing the cup into your hands, “Drink up. Chad has called a council and you don’t want to be late,” she said as she fixed her deep red midi-length dress which you found too conservative for your tastes. I mean, you’re immortal. Live a little, for God’s sake. 

Your hands fly to your face, the heels of your palm digging into your eye socket as you groan throatily, “Ugh, remind me why I still bother to stay in touch with those losers?” you whine, beyond annoyed at this point. 

“Well, for starters, as the Ruler of the Underworld, you cannot just cut ties with the Ruler of the World and your brother. Plus, Mount Olympus has a pretty sweet waterslide,” she answered with a smirk. She wasn’t wrong. The waterslide was mean, even by Godly standards.

And she was right about the whole ‘Being the Ruler of the Underworld, overseer of souls and overall baddie’ part. But, contrary to what ‘Paradise Lost’ and ‘Lucifer’ would make you believe, Hades, or ‘Satan’ as you were more popularly known for the past couple of centuries, was not your charming, chain smoking bad boy with feathery black wings and a severe case of daddy issues (though that part could be argued. I mean, years stuck inside a wacko’s stomach with four siblings and a pretty large rock is bound to fuck a gal up in one way or another, right?) or even an ugly swamp monster. To begin with, Hades is a woman. Most people refuse to believe that Hades is anything but 200 pounds of pure muscle and seduction. A slice of heavenly beefcake. 

“Alright, let’s go. But I’m going to require an actual drink after this,” you grumble as Hecate slowly pushes you towards the shower. You didn't really need to shower as a God but why not? Especially if it will help you put off showing up at the upcoming family reunion for as long as possible.

“Do this and I’ll come out with you tonight,” she bribed. That was incentive enough for you and you quickly freshened up for what you were sure was going to be an awkward and uncomfortable coming together of The Ancient Family.

*

You huffed angrily as you walked back into your house, throwing your clutch and keys to one side before flopping down onto the chaise lounge. You were so sick of this. Every time. Every fucking time. 

You could hear Hecate’s rushed footsteps, her flats making an unnecessarily loud noise across the tiles. You groaned loudly, a hand across your forehead as you wondered why you even bothered.

She sat down next to you on the sofa and pulled your head into her lap, running her fingers through your hair. 

After a couple of moments of silence, your eyes closed, the stress of the day melted away slowly with the gentle movements of her fingers. Hecate had always been sensitive. She could feel your distress before you left for Mount Olympus but the anger rolling off of you in waves really put her on edge. 

“Look at the positive side honey, you get to spend more time around here on Ear-“ she says but is swiftly cut off by your throaty groan. “Fuck no,” you moan. 

“C’mon don’t be like that,” she tried but you moved away from her, walking towards your bedroom. “I need a real fucking drink,” you grumble as the door shuts with a loud band behind you, Hecate left alone in the living room, gently shaking her head. 

*

Natasha was exhausted. From back to back missions and Sam and Bucky’s constant bickering the whole time, it was safe to say that she’d had it. She needed a drink. 

So here they were, the whole team minus Bruce, in some seedy bar in Brooklyn where she knew the barkeep could make a decent enough drink and the patrons generally left them alone. It wasn’t easy being one of Earth’s mightiest heroes. 

Another mission that would last far too long, more than she cared for. At least it was a pretty low profile mission, just scouting and gathering some intel. There were strict orders not to get involved until and unless it was absolutely imperative for them to do so. She was glad it was Bucky who would be joining her. Steve was a goddamn killjoy and Sam never seemed to know when he should shut up. 

But for tonight and tonight alone, all of it was forgotten. Ideally, she’d like to meet a pretty girl and take her home for the night but she’d make do with a good drink and a plate of mozzarella sticks. But that was before she saw her. 

Looking at her, Natasha’s interest was instantly piqued. 

Even dressed down, she looked better than anybody present. Black skinny jeans that hugged all her curves, cropped red tank top and a leather jacket, paired with what looked like black Louboutin boots that proved she valued comfort just as much as style. She could faintly see the gleam of a gemstone of some sort at the woman’s waist, partially hidden by her jacket. 

She saw the woman take a seat at one end of the bar with her companions, directly in her line of sight. The taller one had russet brown skin with dark curly hair, dressed in a long, flowy purple dress and what looked like a necklace full of odd charms, her face having little to no make up. The shorter one was plump with pale white skin and dark makeup, wearing leather from head to toe. 

Sam too had noticed the women walk in. It was safe to say that a gorgeous woman never failed to catch his eye. Nudging Bucky, he jerked his head towards the trio. Bucky was instantly attracted to you and did not protest when Sam led him towards your seat at the bar. 

Natasha watched from afar, completely engrossed in the interaction. A small smirk played at her lips as she registered Steve taking a seat next to her, watching Sam and Bucky make fools of themselves. 

Natasha was definitely interested now. 

*

You were ready to end this shit show of a day on a good note. On a high note at the very least. And what better place than Dan’s, where the drinks are strong, the food is far too greasy and the music’s loud. 

You don’t know how but Hecate managed to convince Nyx to join you for the night but you weren’t one to complain. Nyx was an absolute blast, the best person to party with. Hecate on the other hand was only here for your sake. Dark and dingy bars were admittedly not her scene. 

The moment you set foot into the establishment, you know this was going to be a good night. You were dressed comfortably but you knew you looked good either way. It was hard not to be aware of it, especially when all heads turned to look at the three of you when you walked towards the bar. 

“Two beers and a ginger ale please,” Nyx says as she plops down on the barstool, letting her long, dark hair down. 

“Not drinking again?” You question, grabbing the beer and taking a large gulp. 

“All of it tastes like piss anyway,” she grumbled, cracking open the can and taking a small sip. 

Hecate elects to stay quiet, slowly sipping her beer, cringing at the taste of it. You’re scanning the establishment, generally checking people out when you see two men approaching your group. They were hot, no doubt, but you kinda just wanted a night to yourselves. But you decided to have fun with them before letting them down not so easy.

Natasha had front row tickets to the shenanigans, watching as the group of women totally tore into both Bucky and Sam. She would have felt bad for them if she didn’t find it so fucking hilarious. But what was funnier though, was the fact that you were there the next morning, sitting at the kitchen island while Sam made pancakes. She saw you walking towards him, reaching for the syrup and grabbing his butt in the process. 

“This is a common space, you know?” Natasha asks, walking towards the counter and grabbing a plate.

“Sorry,” Sam mumbles bashfully. You just toss her a smirk and she’s not sure if her eyes are deceiving her but you seem to be checking her out. She’s sure you are when you wink at her before focusing your attention on Sam again.

Once most of the team is here, other than Bucky who seemed to have spent the night elsewhere, Tony is quick to start an interrogation

“So, Y/n, what is it that you do?”

You take your time answering, taking a long, drawn out sip of your coffee.

“Oh, I’m a manager of sorts,” you answer vaguely.

“Here in Manhattan?” Tony continues, still suspicious. 

“Mhm, downtown,” you supply. 

“Hmm, interesting,” Tony trails off and all of them stare at him, wondering why he’s acting so strange. Sam looks particularly embarrassed but you don’t seem to care, finishing your food and putting your plate away. When your phone begins to ring, you grab it quickly, but not quick enough that Natasha can’t read the name of the caller. Vanko Lebedev. Why does that sound so familiar? 

“Uh-huh, okay,” you’re quick to get on your feet then, giving Sam a kiss on the cheek before you leave with a “I’ll call you,” thrown his way.

He only realises later that you never got his number. 

*

The next time the team sees you is rather unexpected. It’s two weeks after they initially met you. Natasha and Clint are undercover at a gala hosted by the governor in honour of Valerie Banks, philanthropist and business woman. The woman had made a donation to one of the charities that the governor had started, a sizable donation. And there you were, all dolled up and hanging off her arm. 

It’s when she sees you that all warning bells start going off in her head. Valerie Banks was who Natasha and Clint were on the lookout for. Her company, a pharmaceutical one, was rumoured to have procured a substance quite like the super soldier serum and were supposedly on their way to making their own superhumans. To see you with her definitely raises her suspicions. It’s not just Banks that they have to look into now, but you too. 

Natasha, despite her good looks, knew how to blend into the crowd. So well that you didn’t realise as she followed you to the restroom. She sees you slip into the restroom but unlike what she expected, you don’t lock the door. She’s cautious, listening through the door. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve basically got her eating out of my palm. I mean, who knew rich women could be so desperate?” you giggle.

[countrymusiclover]

22 - Drinking Games

Part 23

The Texas Tire Family

Author note - short chapter compared to my others for this story. So if you all have any ideas send them below in the comments. It would be a great help to me....regardless I hope you enjoy the update

Tags just ask - @supernaturalgirl31 @bvbwestfall @bubble-blu @patriciaplictisita @liesanddreams @bethanymccauley

The kids were running through the back yard Georgie, Amy, Sheldon and I were all sitting around the picnic table while baby Leonard was sleeping inside our bedroom. Coming outside I handed Georgie a beer, sending a smirk to the others sitting a case of six down on the table. “Have you guys ever played Never have I ever as a drinking game?”

“Penny had us play that with her and Leonard. I won the game.” Sheldon said with his hands in his lap.

Amy corrected him, handing him a beer after grabbing one herself. “You revealed something about their finances which wasn’t supposed to be in the game. So don’t do that again and we’ll have fun.”

“Okay fine.” He agreed.

Popping the lid off the beer bottle I had I leaned back in my lawn chair remembering the rules so we could get started. “Alright so the rules are this. If you’ve done the thing that someone says you drink. And if you haven’t you don’t have to. We’ll just go around in a circle so Sheldon, you and Arm are guests so you’re first.”

“Hmm never have I ever snuck out of the house and gone to a party.” Sheldon shifted his gaze toward me and my husband while we both took a drink.

Amy tapped her glass thinking of something. “Never have I ever been arrested.”

Sheldon and Georgie both took a drink where Amy sent me a shocked look where I knew I’d have to explain. “It happened when I was pregnant with Aurora. Cause Georgie and I were working really hard to get money but it wasn’t as much as we have now. Their meemaw and him went to the Mexican border to buy cheap cigarettes to sell. While they were making money in the illegal gambling room.”

“But we had a great idea to hide it inside the back of the laundry mat. That’s how I was making money while Y/n was working at the sporting goods store.” Georgie shrugged his shoulders simply adding onto what I said.

Amy smiled towards Sheldon. “I can’t believe you got arrested like your brother. I never thought you would be the one to ever get arrested.”

Shaking my head I remembered that Sheldon made a police officer arrest him for jaywalking across the street. Glancing over my shoulder I saw that the girls and Montana were playing hide and seek with the trees and the playset we had bought them. “Okay, my turn. Never have I ever pushed all the buttons in the elevator at once.”

“Amy..I can’t believe you.” I gasped faking dramatically when she took a drink.

Georgie raised his beer up smirking in my direction when he said the words. “Never have I ever rocked my significant other's world.”

“Georgie!” I squealed covering my face with my hands blushing as red as I possibly could not expect him to come right out of the gate with that when it was his turn.

Sheldon went again. “Never have I ever thrown a baseball at someone.”

“Urgh sometimes I wish you didn’t remember everything.” I grumbled taking a long sip of my drink wishing I didn’t let my anger get the better of me when we were young teenagers.

Hitting my freehand on the table I smirked at Sheldon. “Never have I ever thought college kids were using my dorm room to study while they were really having sex.”

“That is uncalled for Y/n.” Sheldon glared while taking a drink.

Amy turned her attention toward Sheldon, smiling as she took her turn in our game. “Never have I ever lost my virginity to my current partner.” She took a drink shortly afterwards.

Georgie and I clinked our beer bottles together before we downed some more beer, not minding that she put that into the game. Throwing my head back I couldn’t not laugh in pure shock and awe when Sheldon had to take a drink too. “That’s so crazy that we have that in common with each other.”

Evelyn came running over to us ending our current game tugging at my shirt sleeve where I heard her stomach growling. “Mommy, I’m hungry”

“Can we have pizza?” Montana asked with Aurora standing at his side.

Georgie nodded in agreement while he went to throw away the empty box of beer in the trash can we had outside when we would grill outside and have brisket. “Sure we can. What do you all want?”

“No veggies, dad.” Aurora scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

He nodded, running his hand through her hair making it a slightly knotted mess like his hair normally was sometimes. “Spoken like a true child and Texan. That’s my baby girl.”

Our little family headed back into the house waiting for the pizza to come here. Montana wanted to play candy land so we set the board game up at the kitchen table. Getting up from the chair I paid for the pizza sitting on the edge of the table so we could still play the game. “Alright kids don’t eat the whole thing since uncle Sheldon and aunt Amy are eating too.”

“Have you had spaghetti and hot dogs before?” Sheldon asked, biting into his piece of pizza. “My mother would make it all the time when I was your age.”

Montana asked, confused. “Spaghetti and hot dogs?”

Sheldon rolled his eyes slightly annoyed. “Oh my, how could you not tell them about it.”

“This is Texan Sheldon. We eat meat and watch football.” Geoegie takes a big bite out of his piece while I had already finished my piece of pizza.

Amy glanced down the table at our kids changing the subject altogether instead focusing on the kids. “So what do you all want to be when you grow up?”

“I want to be like daddy.” Evelyn responded by tearing her pizza into bits with her hands.

Aurora hit her hands on the table grinning brightly. “I want to be an actress.”

“If you want pointers I would say go to Penny on what not to do. Will Wheaton is the way to go for good advice.” Sheldon added onto my eldest daughter’s dream.

Montana throws his hands up pretending he had a lasso in his hands at the same time dancing around in front of us. “I wanna be a cowboy.”

“Those all sound like fun.” Amy grinned at me and Georgie while we both knew that these kids would do whatever they put their minds to. Georgie reached underneath the table intertwining my hand with his kissing me on the forehead knowing that we just hooked neither of our girls or son got someone pregnant like we did.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Rules: post 10 of your favourite comfort movies then tag 10 people.

Thank you for the tag @its-all-ineffable 💖

The Holiday. Hot people Christmassy romcom, what's not to like? What Jack Black does with his character!! Beautiful!! And do I need to say more than Kate Winslet? Also single dad Jude Law in glasses!! Cameron Diaz rocking out to The Killers!! And driving a Mini down a country road and nearly getting wiped out by a lorry. So accurate it's *chefs kisses* Favourite scenes include: Arthur's moment to shine, Miles and Iris in Blockbuster and the tent scene with the kids with an honourable mention for Mr Napkinhead 😂 It's my go-to movie whenever I'm sad because it's just so stupidly funny and adorable.

How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Jim Carrey. That's all I have to say. Honestly, I've seen this film a million times. I can quote it by heart and do so regularly much to my mums annoyance. The schedule scene is very me anytime I'm invited anywhere 😂 some favourite quotes "Am I just eating because I'm bored" "Hate, hate, hate. Hate, hate, hate. Double hate. LOATHE ENTIRELY!" "We're gonna die! I'm going to throw up, and then I'm gonna die!" "The insolence! The audacity! The unmitigated gall!" "Nice kid... bad judge of character" (absolutely me with my niblings) It's just the perfect remedy whenever I'm ill.

The Muppets Christmas Carol. I love all the adaptations but this one is my favourite. Me and my mum snuggle up every Christmas Eve and sing along. It reminds me of the magic of childhood Christmases and soothes something deep in my soul.

The Old Guard. This is the only adrenaliney one cos I have anxiety and I need chill shit if I watch a film but Joe & Nicky are my perfect Immortal Husbands and the tiny details of their relationship are all-encompassing and easily distract from all the murder and kidnap 😂

Mary Poppins. Do I need to say more than Julie Andrews? Dick Van Dyke. The outfits. The songs. Suffragettes. Tea parties on the ceiling. Dancing penguins. The merry-go-round horses. When I was a kid my mum used to foster so our house was always full of kids who needed someone to love them, make them feel safe and bring them some joy. That's probably why Poppins is one of my comfort characters, my mum was her.

Alice In Wonderland. Any of the adaptations. They're all brilliant. I do love the 1951 animation though mainly bc I adore the dormouse scene but becoming BFFs with a load of weird and wonderful creatures in a dreamstate is just *chefs kisses* Any scene with The Mad Hatter in any of the adaptations is my favourite but I am a sucker for the clean cup move down scene.

Sherlock Gnomes. I also love any Sherlock adaption but this one's just hysterical. Watson is just done™️. Sherlock and Juliet's squirrel disguise when sneaking through the park kills me every time. Moriarty as a pastry mascot and the fact he has dumb gargoyles as his assistants. Perfection really. Honestly, this film is just so fucking stupid you can't possibly feel sad when you watch it.

Monsters, Inc. bc it might've been like twenty years but I still want a Sully hug!! Also the pure beautiful hilarious chaos that is this film cracks me up. "Mike Wazowski", "Always watching" and "Put that thing back where it came from or so help me" are just killer lines. I absolutely adore The Abominable Snowman too he's just too sweet.

The Addams Family. Any of the films. All of the films. Gomez and Morticia are ultimate couple goals. They adore each other. Support their kids unconditionally. So kind and generous it often gets them in trouble. They're just perfect.

Red, White And Royal Blue. Last but not least, only because it's the newest. This film was amazing!! I adored the book and although the film is different I love that it's basically a 'what if' fanfic of itself. It was genuinely lovely to be able to watch a queer story and be able to relax with it!! Don't get me wrong I love how profound queer films can be but they either have me gripped in anxiety waiting for the shoe to drop or have me reaching for a comedian to brush away the deep-seated sadness. I felt so safe and yeah they have their ups and downs like every couple but I think I'd have felt the same safety with those characters even if I hadn't read the book first. 5* 10/10 highly recommend. Will be watching this on repeat for the foreseeable future.

Absolutely no pressure tags @mickalaem @flowercrowngods @auroraplume @estrellami-1 @i-less-than-three-you @mentallyundone @hbyrde36 @penny00dreadful @adhdsummer @writingfanficsfan 💖

[na-dineee]

if you get this, answer with three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs! anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog <3

Hi @onthewaytosomewhere, thanks for tagging. 🥰 Had a quick think, here we go, it couldn't be more random. Sorry in advance!

1. Please don't give me flowers! Bouquets of flowers wither and end up in the trash, potted plants dry out in my case. So no, I'd rather not. ❌️💐🪴❌️

2. I hate having insects in the house. I'll get conditions straight away, like yikes. 😵‍💫 But I always have to try to save them alive. 😅 Wasps, spiders, flies - I always try the 'put a glass over and slide paper under it' method first to throw them out the window. ✌️

3. I like being alone, but I don't like silence that much. So there's always music playing in the background - a German radio station that plays a lot of 80s pop/rock - or recently I've been listening to audio books a lot, currently listening to 'The song of Achilles' (late to that party, obviously). 📻🎧

So, who could to tag? Who feels amenable to join? Perhaps @orchidscript, @dot524, @celeritas2997, @suseagull04 or @inexplicablymine? 😍🙏

[thearmyprof]

Namu and the Wind

Who Has Seen the Wind?

by Christina Rossetti

Who has seen the wind?

Neither I nor you:

But when the leaves hang trembling,

The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind?

Neither you nor I:

But when the trees bow down their heads,

The wind is passing by.

Rating: T

Pairing: Namjoon/Jimin

Word count: 6,194

Genre: Modern Fantasy!AU, Non-Idol!AU, Magic Realism

Warnings: No Major Warnings, past minor character death

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49403005

Other tags: Mentioned Jeon Jungkook, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, past original character death, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, Softness, Kind of Philosophical, Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism

He watches as the clear water pulls away from his bare feet, partially sunken in the dark sand, already turning bright red from the frigid water. As the wave retreats, it makes a sk sk sk sound as it pulls the rocks and pebbles with it. He is grateful for the brief reprieve brought by the sunlight—the first he’s seen since his arrival to the island three days ago—warming his cold toes as he watches the next wave rattle towards him. A bald eagle soars by, just above the water. He should have come sooner, he thinks to himself.

“You know how much I love you, right?” Wrinkled hands, soft and covered in age spots, pat his cheeks gently.

Another wave pulls at his feet, pain from the iciness finally giving way to numbness.

“I love you so, so much.”

He should have come sooner.

He holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he digs through his pockets for the house key.

“How are you holding up, Namjoon-hyung?” the voice on the other end of the phone asks.

“Fine, you know,” Namjoon shrugs and immediately drops the phone onto the worn wood deck with an impression clacking noise.

“Fuck,” he says as he inspects the phone. No new cracks.

“Hyung?” he can hear his friend asking and he remembers he’s on a call.

“Sorry, sorry, Jungkook-ah,” he says, putting the phone back to his ear. “Dropped the phone trying to find the house key. Wish this place had a keypad lock.”

“Maybe you can install one,” Jungkook says.

Namjoon hums noncommittally. Then smiles as he finds the key in the zipped back pocket of his shorts.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind about staying.”

“No, no. It’s just,” Namjoon pauses as he lets himself through the door, toes off his shoes, and inhales deeply the smell of the previous owner the house hasn’t relinquished yet. “It’s just weird.”

“Well, you have time,” Jungkook says. “No need to rush any decisions.”

“I just,” Namjoon starts and flounders for the right word. “I feel like I’m a guest here. Like she’ll be back after a long weekend.”

His voice trails off as he looks around the living room. The furniture is worn and mismatched. An unwashed coffee mug still by her chair. Then his gaze lands on the simple wooden box on the mantle, housing her ashes.

“It just takes time, hyung,” the younger says on the phone.

“Time,” Namjoon replies absently. “Yeah.”

It takes another four weeks to stop feeling like a guest in the house that is now his. Namjoon can’t pinpoint exactly when the shift happened, it being so gradual. First, throwing out perishable food in the fridge past its due date. Then, emptying the cupboards of unexpired, unopened food Namjoon will never eat for the local food bank. Then, refilling the cabinets again with food procured from H-Mart in Seattle—the ferry ride being picturesque, but the whole day out just for food from home being exhausting. Then, the front hall coat closet is emptied to make room for some of Namjoon’s belongings, the previous occupant’s useful things being donated again to the local shelter. Then, Namjoon’s pretty beach rock and glass findings from his daily walks become a collection featured on the mantle, the wooden box removed to a safe place in an unused bedroom. Little by little, the old house that was once his grandmother’s pride and joy becomes Namjoon’s home.

Namjoon curses under his breath when the coffee pot apparently decides it no longer needs to make coffee. He looks forlornly at his empty mug. This won’t do at all.

He huffs as he pulls his tennis shoes and grabs the key from the dish on the little table by the door. He admires the blue and purple hydrangea and the pink sweet peas in full bloom as he walks down the winding path marked by pavers from the front porch to the road.

As he reaches the road, Namjoon turns left and starts walking towards the café and nursery. He passes a few houses, spread out with large yards all alive with plants and trees, their owners still asleep or in the midst of morning routines. The ocean breeze from off the bluff carries the soft sounds of waves on the shore and the smell of salt on the air that Namjoon finds comforting.

He walks up a long, steep hill at the end of the sleepy residential road feeling the burn in his glutes, which would bother him less if he’d been able to have his morning caffeine first. Maybe this means he’s earning a pastry with his coffee.

At the top of the hill, more trees and houses dot the way. Turning right, he walks another few minutes before he comes to a small, quiet village center. There is the coffee shop, garden nursery, post office, and small convenience store. He’s driven past this place many times, as it’s on the only road toward real civilization, but has never stopped in before. It’s cute. Quaint. A throwback to an era when neighbors know each other’s names and the coffee shop owner knows everyone’s orders before they arrive.

The coffee shop is equally cute and quaint inside as out. Chickens is apparently the theme. The motif carries through all of the décor and even into the naming of specialty drinks and baked goods. Namjoon stands in line and studies the chalkboard menu, trying to decide on what to order, brow wrinkling trying to decipher the meaning behind the various names.

“Maybe I can help you, sir?” the middle aged woman at the counter asks.

Namjoon steps up to the counter and puts on his best dimpled smile. Yes, help. He needs help. He asks, “Maybe you can tell me the difference between the Cluckuccino and the Eggpresso?”

The woman lets out a low chuckle, “Let me explain, the Cluckuccino is a latte with a hint of cinnamon and vanilla. Or if you’re feeling adventurous, try the Eggpresso with an egg yolk!”

Namjoon wrinkled his nose in disgust before he can school his features into something more neutral, “I think for today I’ll just get a plain americano. Oh, and uh, blueberry scone, or whatever you call it.”

“The Clucky Blueberry Scone it is,” the woman says with a grin. “Anything else for you?”

“No, no, I think that’s good,” Namjoon says quickly.

“You got it,” the woman says. “That’ll be $12.45.”

Namjoon blinks at the price for a moment before he hands over his credit card. Forget cute chickens and themed village centers. It’s all a front for bandits and thieves. Highway robbery is what this is.

As he waits for his order, Namjoon takes in the surroundings. The coffee shop is cozy, with mismatched chairs and tables that look like they’ve been here since the 80s. There are shelves full of vintage knick-knacks and trinkets, and a sign hanging above the door that reads “Chickens Crossing.”

It doesn’t take long for his order to be ready and he leans into the door with an elbow, one hand grabbing tightly to his very hot americano and the other holding onto the bag with his scone. Namjoon thanks the woman before stepping back out into the sunshine. He decides to take his scone to go and explore the nursery next door.

He sticks to the outdoor portion of the grounds, with plants and flowers spilling out of pots and baskets with more of the same hanging from hooks screwed into large wooden frames. There’s no distinct aisles or really much rhyme or reason he can see for the layout, except for the obvious shade plants are under an arbor and the sun plants are out in the sun.

Towards the back of the nursery is a small metal table with two chairs. Grateful that it hadn’t rained last night, Namjoon sits on one of the chairs to enjoy his breakfast and caffeine.

For the outrageous price, the coffee was okay. The scone was good, clearly baked this morning with good ingredients. He’s still not sure it’s worth the price though.

A breeze blows through the garden carrying the smell of salt and tide with it. The leaves of the potted hydrangea in front of him—the blossoms on this one a brilliant pink color—shimmy and wave. Namjoon watches with a small sort of reverence. No wonder his grandmother had decided to stay here, in this place that was so far away from home.

“Oh, hello there,” a soft voice says. Namjoon turns to find the owner of the voice, thinking perhaps they are speaking to him.

But, it turns out, they are not speaking to him. A young Asian man, perhaps in his mid-20s, with auburn hair is bent over a tall stalk of a plant with large purple blossoms at the top. He’s wearing a dark green canvas apron over his fitting blue jeans and white tee-shirt, indicating he’s an employee.

“You’ve bloomed so beautifully,” the man continues, perhaps unaware he has an audience. “You’ve worked so hard. Good job.”

Namjoon can’t help but be a bit endeared by the man as he boosts the confidence of the flowers in front of him. He gives a brief start when he realizes he’s been listening to the man speak in Korean.

“Uh, hello,” Namjoon says in Korean, voice cracking a bit. After clearing his throat, he continues, “I couldn’t help but notice you’re Korean?”

The man whirls around with round eyes, mouth agape, hand clutching at his chest. “Oh, you startled me. I didn’t realize anyone was here.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon says, turning his lips down in a bit of a frown. “I just got excited to hear someone else speaking Korean. My brain gets so tired hearing English all day.”

The man breaks into a smile then and anything Namjoon might have said next vanishes from his mind. The smile is sparkly and warm, with his cheeks pushing his eyes up into adorable crescents. Namjoon feels a flush creep onto his cheeks.

“Oh, I’m so glad to meet another Korean,” the man says. He bounces over and sits down gingerly in the other metal chair at Namjoon’s table. “I’m Park Jimin. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Kim Namjoon,” Namjoon says, his smile working to match Jimin’s smile intensity. “Nice to meet you.”

“And, what do you do, Kim Namjoon?” Jimin asks with a cute tilt of his head.

“Ah, I’m a writer. Novels, mostly.”

“Oh, a writer! How exciting!” Jimin says with an enthusiastic energy. “Have you written anything I’ve read?”

“Uh,” Namjoon starts, mind trying to provide any book title of his. “I mostly write science fiction? My most sold book is probably ‘Spring Day.’ But don’t worry about it if you haven’t heard of it. I’m not really that famous.”

Namjoon feels his gut curling a bit in embarrassment as he rubs a palm across the back of his neck. When he glances at Jimin, he sees excitement in his eyes.

“Spring Day is your book? The one about time travel and a love story between two people from different eras?” Jimin asks eagerly.

“Uh, yeah,” Namjoon answers, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the enthusiasm of the other.

“Oh, I love that book. The pure longing and sadness of two people who come from two different worlds,” Jimin says wistfully, looking over at the hydrangea. “I didn’t realize that was yours. I don’t think it’s published under the name Kim Namjoon, is it?”

“Ah, yeah, RM is my pen name. Early on, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to actually sell any of my stuff. I don’t know. I felt more confident being someone else.”

“Well, it’s amazing that, here, of all places, I am meeting you,” Jimin says with a smile. “Ah, I wish I had my copy. I’d ask for an autograph.”

“Thank you,” Namjoon says softly with a grin, still feeling a bit bashful. “That means a lot to me.”

Jimin leans back in his chair and looks around the garden with a contented sigh. “It’s so peaceful here, isn’t it? I love working in the nursery. It’s my dream job, really.”

Namjoon takes a sip of his coffee and nods in agreement. “Yeah, it’s beautiful here. And you clearly have a talent for it. I saw you talking to those flowers earlier.”

Jimin blushes slightly at the compliment, a small smile on his lips. “I just love watching them grow and change. It’s like seeing your hard work pay off right in front of you.”

Namjoon takes another sip of his coffee, trying to calm the nerves that are fluttering in his chest. He’s both endeared and intrigued by the man in front of him.

“So, are you a tourist?” Jimin asks.

Namjoon startles out of his wandering thoughts. “A tourist? No. What makes you say that?”

“Oh,” Jimin blinks. “I’ve just never seen you here before. And I would definitely remember you.”

Namjoon feels his cheeks pinkening at Jimin’s comment. He clears his throat before he says, “I, uh, inherited a house down the road recently. So I’ve only been here for, uh, a month or so.”

“Oh! I don’t know why I didn’t make the connection before!” Jimin says excitedly again. “You’re Kwon Seulgi’s grandson.”

Namjoon nods, a little dumbfounded.

Jimin’s face falls a bit. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You knew her? My grandmother?” Namjoon asks.

“Yes, I would help her with her garden. It was hard for her, especially, you know, towards the end,” Jimin says.

Namjoon nods, familiar guilt curdling in his gut.

Jimin takes a deep breath and looks back at Namjoon, his smile returning. “But, it’s good to see the house is being taken care of. Your grandmother loved her home and really put herself into it.”

Namjoon nods in agreement, feeling a sense of pride. He says, “Yeah, I’m going to try my best to keep it up.”

“I’m sure you will,” Jimin says with a reassuring smile. “And if you ever need any help with the garden or anything, just let me know. I’d be happy to lend a hand.”

“Thanks, Jimin,” Namjoon says gratefully. He takes one last gulp of his coffee before standing up from the table. “I should probably get going now, but it was really nice to meet you.”

Jimin stands up as well, his warm smile still plastered on his face. “It was really nice meeting you too, Namjoon-ssi. I hope we run into each other again soon.”

Namjoon nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Please call me hyung. And I hope so too. See you around, Jimin.”

As he walks away, Namjoon can’t help but feel a sense of excitement about the prospect of meeting Jimin again. Maybe, just maybe, in this strange land where coffee shops embody chicken puns and one has to spend a day traveling to get Korean ingredients, he has a potential new friend. Or more than a friend, the traitorous whisper in his mind says.

July and August on the island mean most days are filled with sun, which rises early and sets late in the evening. While the occasional overcast or foggy day occurs, most days are warm and dry.

Namjoon settles into a routine. He continues his morning walks down the hill to the beach where he wanders up and down the shoreline for at least an hour. He never tries to time it with the tide, so some days the tide is so far out the rocky shore gives way to truly sandy beach. Other times, the tide is so high, it’s lapping against the concrete seawall.

After his walks, he takes his light breakfast to the small front room he’s converted into his office. There, he tries to get a few hours of writing done, before he sets himself to the tasks of sorting through his grandmother’s possessions and fixing up the house.

Some of the days—the best days, if one were to ask Namjoon’s opinion—Jimin comes over in the late afternoon, after his shift at the nursery has finished. He works good-naturedly in the gardens of the house until the skies over Seattle are painted pink, orange, and purple, a reflection of the sunset happening behind the island.

As the sun goes down, Namjoon makes tea for the both of them and they sit on the porch drinking and admiring the view. Some nights they talk, sharing stories both innocuous and meaningful. Some nights they just sit in comfortable silence as the sky grows dark.

“I didn’t know her very well. Most of my memories are vague, from childhood. She somehow came into this house long before I was born,” Namjoon says into his cup of tea.

The sky is full of bursts of pink, purple, and orange over Seattle. The sun had been warm today, almost too hot, as Namjoon watched Jimin work on pruning back some trees from the comfort of his little front porch office. Now, though, as the sun begins to set, a cool breeze blows off the Puget Sound making the hot sun a distant memory.

“We would visit,” he continues, now watching the colors changing across the sky, “when I was little. So I have memories of running around this garden, looking for treasures.”

He laughs at the memory and glances at Jimin to see if he’s bored the younger man yet. Jimin gives him a soft smile.

“I would spend hours reading up in the apple trees,” Namjoon says and points down the yard to the gnarly old apple tree, now propped up by a two-by-four. “My grandmother started calling me Namu.”

“Namu,” Jimin tries it out quietly with a grin. “Can I call you Namu-hyung, then?”

Namjoon laughs, loud and bright in surprise. “Sure, Jimin-ah.”

Namjoon watches from his front office window as Jimin whispers to the peach blossomed water lily in the small pond off the deck of the house. Namjoon remembers helping digging out that pond when he was young, on one of his summer visits. Digging out the hole, laying tarp, nestling the lilies in their pots, filling the pond with water. He had wanted to get fish, but “we don’t need to feed the raccoons and herons, Namu-yah” was all his grandmother had said.

Namjoon tilts his head as he watches Jimin. He imagines—or at least he tells himself he is imagining it—the lilies bend their faces towards Jimin, as if eager to hear exactly what he has to say. Namjoon can relate.

“Do you ever regret?” Namjoon asks another night, after the sun is gone and the stars dot the sky. The stars are so bright here, despite the light from Seattle across the Sound. The Milky Way is a visible band across the heavens.

“Regret?” Jimin asks. Both their voices are low, as if they are afraid of disturbing the night. A frog croaks from the pond.

“Yeah, regret,” Namjoon echoes. He’s quiet for several minutes before he says, “Sometimes I regret the choices I made when I was younger. When I didn’t know what was going to be important to me later. Who was going to be important to me later.”

Jimin hums in thought. Somewhere, probably up on the main road, they can hear a car drive by.

“I don’t– I don’t think I regret,” Jimin says after another sip of his tea. “We can never know who or what will be important later. The best we can do is live for what is important now, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Namjoon says, swatting away a too-friendly moth. “I just– I wish I had spent more time with her, here, before she was too sick to know me.”

“She knew you,” Jimin says quietly with confidence. “She was your grandmother. I don’t think she’d want you regretting.”

“Maybe,” Namjoon says.

Another frog joins the first, creating a chorus of night sounds.

“I left my home,” Jimin says, voice sounding far away. “I lived by this river that ran off a mountain. I knew every tree, plant, animal. I knew each nob and bend in the river. But, after being there for so long, I felt like I needed to see more of the world.”

Namjoon hums and asks, “So you came here?”

“Well, first I ended up in Busan,” Jimin says with a chuckle. “That was the closest town to my river.”

“Ah, that explains the accent,” Namjoon says with a grin.

“Yes,” Jimin returns his grin. “Then, I guess, you could say, I let the wind blow me here.”

Namjoon laughs. “Must have been a strong wind to get you all the way across the ocean.”

Jimin smiles, all toothy with his eyes disappearing into his cheeks. “Well, I had an important person to meet.”

Namjoon feels his cheeks warm up and he turns his gaze determinately into the bottom of his empty tea cup. He clears his throat and murmurs, “Aish, is it really that late?”

Jimin laughs as he stands and takes Namjoon’s cup. “I’ll wash these before I go, Namu-hyung.”

He’s feeling good about the amount of words he got onto the page today. While he’s pretty sure most of them are garbage, he’s proud of himself for actually getting something out at all. Pushing back from his desk, he stands and peers out the window to the porch.

Jimin is leaning against the railing, facing the Sound, but his eyes are shut. Namjoon feels his breath catch for a moment. There is something so incredibly soft about the younger man—that makes him beautiful. The wind off the water plays with his hair and a smile graces his lips.

Namjoon runs to the kitchen to get two glasses of water, as an excuse to go out and stand with the other man.

“The weather is nice today,” Namjoon says, setting the glass down the railing next to Jimin.

“You know,” Jimin says, “there’s so much in this world we can’t see. But we know it’s there.”

Namjoon watches the soft expression on Jimin’s face, still turned into the breeze, his eyes still closed.

“We can’t see them, but they still change the world. The most important things we can’t see.” He raises his hand, palm out, as if feeling the breeze blow.

“Like the wind?” Namjoon asks.

“Like the wind,” Jimin agrees. “We only know it’s there because it’s changing things, moving things, changing the world around it.”

“Like music,” Namjoon thinks aloud.

“Music?” Jimin asks, opening his eyes and looking thoughtfully at Namjoon.

“We can’t see it, but it changes the world,” Namjoon says.

Jimin nods and turns to look back over the Sound, seemingly lost in thought. After a few minutes, he turns back to Namjoon and looks at him intently. He says, “Like love.”

Namjoon feels his cheeks burst into flames, but a smile grows on his face. He nods slowly. “Like love.”

“What do you say, when you’re whispering to the plants?” Namjoon asks. It’s overcast today and Jimin had mentioned it would probably rain tonight.

“You might not believe me,” Jimin says, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Try me,” Namjoon says, smiling, dimples on display. He finds he’s been smiling like this a lot lately.

Jimin sets his glass down on the little table they’ve set out for their little tea breaks. He turns his body so he’s facing Namjoon from his chair.

“I am casting spells,” he says. His face is serious, but his eyes twinkle mischievously.

“Spells,” Namjoon deadpans.

“I told you you wouldn’t believe me!” Jimin says, clearly trying to look hurt but failing.

Namjoon looks around the yard. All the plants look incredibly happy and healthy. Everything is overflowing with blooms and fruit. He turns back to look at Jimin again, starting to question, just a little bit.

“Spells,” Namjoon says again, this time it almost sounds like a question.

Jimin’s face lights up with his smile. He laughs a little as he says, “Spells. Really!”

“If you say so, I’ll believe you,” Namjoon laughs.

“You know how I said I lived by a river?” Jimin asks, voice sobering.

Namjoon shifts in his chair sensing the change in mood. He nods and watches as Jimin bites his bottom lip.

“Well, I was, how would you say this? I was the guardian?”

“Guardian?” Namjoon asks.

Jimin makes a small, frustrated noise in his throat. “I don’t know the word for it. I was a spirit guardian.”

“Spirit guardian,” Namjoon echoes, brows furrowed.

Jimin nods, looking a bit nervous as he eyes Namjoon. “I was a guardian of the river for hundreds of years. But, I wanted to see the world. I wanted to see the things everyone who traveled on my river talked about. So– so, I became human.”

Namjoon blinks. “You’re serious.”

Jimin nods, eyes now trained on the deck in front of him.

“Hundreds of years,” Namjoon says absently.

“But only 27 human years! So, you’re still my hyung, Namu-hyung,” Jimin says quickly, gaze flickering over the other man’s face before settling over the Sound.

“Did you get to see it?” Namjoon asks.

“What?” Jimin looks back at Namjoon, brows pinched together.

“The world,” Namjoon explains. “You said you wanted to see it. But you’ve been here, in this garden all summer.”

“Oh,” Jimin says, looking at Namjoon wide-eyed. “Well, yes, I traveled around for most of my twenties. Then I found myself here. Like I said, the wind sends messages. It brought me here. To you.”

His last words are a whisper.

“I’m glad,” Namjoon says.

Jimin looks at him in question.

“I’m glad you got to see the world,” Namjoon clarifies. He reaches out across the table in between them and takes one of Jimin’s hands. Despite his working in dirt and shrubbery all day, Jimin’s hands are soft and small in Namjoon’s. After reveling in the warmth for a moment, he adds, “And that you found your way here. To me.”

Namjoon looks at the vase of flowers, cut from his own garden, and arranged by Jimin, as it sits on his desk. A large blue hydrangea blossom hangs to one side, light peach colored rose and dark purple dahlia blossoms crowd the rest of the space. It rained overnight and the deck is wet still.

He hears a knock at the door to his office. He wheels himself around and then stands to open the door. Jimin is standing with a smile on his face, auburn hair pushed off his forehead, still a bit damp.

“Were you out in the rain?” Namjoon asks.

“Only on the walk here,” Jimin says with a large smile.

“Let me get you a towel,” Namjoon says as he grabs Jimin’s shoulders and turns him around back into the house. “And some hot tea. Can’t have you catching a cold.”

Jimin giggles—a beautiful sound like tinkling wind chimes, Namjoon thinks—and lets Namjoon manhandle him back into the living room.

“You can’t get a cold just from walking in the rain,” Jimin laughs. “That’s just myth. A little rain is good for you. Especially if you’re a former river spirit.”

Namjoon laughs at that, but still guides Jimin into the kitchen. “Well, then, how about I don’t want you dripping on my floors?”

“Ah, the real reason comes to light,” Jimin says with a nod. Then he giggles again. Namjoon thinks he might lose his mind in the endearing adorableness.

After he’s dry, wrapped in a comforter with a warm cup of tea in his hand, they stand together in the kitchen looking out the window. The rain picked up again while Namjoon was fussing over the kettle.

“The plants will be happy,” Jimin says. “It’s been very warm this season.”

Namjoon bites back his political commentary about global warming and capitalism. Not the time, he thinks. Not when Jimin has that endearing smile on his face.

“Drink up, friends, drink up,” Jimin whispers, eyes trained on the garden out the window. He turns to look at Namjoon with a large grin. “A spell, see?”

Namjoon nods, brain short-circuiting. Without another thought, he leans forward and brushes his lips along Jimin’s, still warm from the tea. Jimin gives a small, startled noise, but doesn’t pull away.

Namjoon pulls away far enough to get Jimin’s face into focus and asks, “I– Was– was that okay?”

Jimin nods, biting his lower lip with a grin.

“Can I–” Namjoon cuts himself off with a swallow.

“Kiss me again, Namu-hyung,” Jimin whispers.

Another spell, Namjoon thinks, before he leans in for another kiss.

Namjoon comes back from a walk on the beach to find Jimin busy weeding under the bushes near the deck, morning glory intent on taking over everything uninvited. Jimin’s figure is illuminated by the mid-morning sun, his slender frame bending to pull weeds from the soil. He’s surrounded by vibrant green plants swaying softly in the wind, some reaching out to him as if begging for attention. The overhang of grape vines that hang from the metal arbor creates a dappled shade of sun and shadow on his skin, and the rhododendron bushes seem to be leaning in closer, as if they too want a bit of his attention. Jimin is humming to himself, a soft melody that is carried on the fresh summer breeze, mingling with the scent of the Sound. The chirping of birds and buzzing of bees intermingle with Jimin’s melody, creating a tranquil harmony in the air. Another kind of spell, perhaps.

Not many of the trees surrounding the property turn for the fall, being evergreen, but the apples are finally harvested and those not turned into sauce and preserves are taken to the neighbors and the local shelter. Autumn feels well underway and the last of the hot, sunny days have passed.

Hovhaness’s Mount St. Helens Symphony plays on the living room speakers, as Namjoon and Jimin snuggle together on one of the worn couches, watching the sunset. Everything about them is soft and slow. Namjoon wouldn’t want it any other way.

Jimin, whose back is half-resting on Namjoon’s chest, turns his head and tilts it up for a kiss. Namjoon obliges by meeting him the rest of the way and giving him a languid kiss. Soft and slow.

The room mostly looks the same as when Namjoon moved in, until closer inspection. His rock and sea glass collection takes up most of the mantle. A better stereo system takes up home on the far wall with surround speakers installed in the corners of the room’s ceiling. Only recently, Namjoon finally washed and put away his grandmother’s coffee cup. The house mostly smells of Namjoon now.

Later, they settle again with fresh cups of sleepytime tea, Jimin resting his head on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“I have to leave for a while,” Jimin says.

“What do you mean?” Namjoon asks, brow wrinkling.

“It’s my birthday soon. I have to, uh, go back home. Just for a little while,” he says.

“Oh.”

“I have to check in on– on the river,” Jimin says, voice low. “It’s sort of part of the deal for being here the rest of the time. Plus, my parents insist on seeing me in-person.”

“I see.”

“I’ll miss you,” Jimin murmurs.

“Come here, when you get back,” Namjoon says.

Jimin tilts his face to see Namjoon’s. “Of course, Namu-hyung.”

“No, I mean,” Namjoon clears his throat. “Come live here, when you get back. Live here, with me.”

“Oh.”

“If you want,” Namjoon quickly adds.

Jimin relaxes his head again, his cheeks comfortably against Namjoon’s shoulder. Namjoon can feel his smile.

“I’d like that.”

Namjoon feels the hole of Jimin’s absence. However, instead of moping and feeling sorry for himself, he decides to finally finish cleaning out the house. Certain items are saved and put in special places, to commemorate the previous owner and her place in the current tenants’ hearts. Everything else is clean and donated or taken to the dump. Namjoon feels lighter than he has since moving in.

Space is made for Jimin—closet space, shelf space, his own room, if he wants. The whole house feels like it’s getting ready for new life.

Namjoon goes to the nursery at the top of the road one day when the sun happens to be shining. He wanders through the outdoor plants and then heads inside to see what else there is for sale.

Sitting near the counter is a table of small bonsai trees. He picks up one with a single trunk and a few branches, small leaves precariously clinging on.

“That blooms lovely purple flowers in the spring,” the woman standing at the register says.

“Is caring for it difficult?” Namjoon asks, eyeing the little tree.

“I’ll throw a care guide with it, if you like,” the woman says with a smile.

The door at the front of the store opens, the little bell at the top jingling. A brisk breeze follows through the store, seemingly excited to have found its way into the warmth as much as the customers.

Namjoon watches as the little leaves sway momentarily. He can put his beach rock collection under it, he thinks.

“I’ll take it,” he says, moving to the counter. He eyes the little tree again. “And any and all guides you might have.”

“Namu-hyung!”

Namjoon hears the shout before he sees the man shouting. The airport is packed. Neither he nor Jimin had accounted for the Thanksgiving holiday when booking the flight. Everywhere Namjoon looks there are people, pushing through the crowds with carry-on bags and suitcases in tow. Lines of people snake out from ticket booths and security checkpoints, while families and friends reunite with luggage is scattered here and there, adding to the general chaos. The whir of rolling suitcases and the occasional call of an announcement can be heard above the din. The airport is bursting with activity and everyone seems to be in a rush to get somewhere.

Finally, through the mass of people, he sees familiar auburn hair sticking out from under a black beanie. He’s wearing comfortable sweats and a hoodie, pulling a worn rolling suitcase haphazardly behind him. He races towards Namjoon, eyes wide and filled with joy and anticipation, face beaming, and throws himself into Namjoon’s arms.

“Jimin-ah, I hope your flight was okay,” Namjoon says into Jimin’s neck. He wraps his arms tightly around the other, one hand grasping the back of Jimin’s hoodie and the other embracing the back of his head, holding him tight.

He hears Jimin sniffle. “There was some turbulence. It was fine.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Namjoon says. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, hyung.”

“I thought we’d pick some food up at the H-Mart on the way to the ferry, unless you’re too tired,” Namjoon says.

Jimin shakes his head. “I slept on the plane.”

“Alright, let’s go home then,” Namjoon says with a smile.

Jimin brushes the tears Namjoon pretends not to see away from his eyes. “Let’s go home.”

It’s cold, but clear as the water pulls away from the rocks on the beach making its now-familiar sk sk sk sound. The water glimmers and sparkles in the winter sunlight. Seaweed cling to rocks, while seagulls fight over some shelled sea creature in the distance. An old, dilapidated set of pilings—great tall timber, now rotted and barnacle covered—stand out of the water, cormorants pose on the tops with their wings outstretched, drying in the sunshine.

Jimin has been back now for three weeks. This is only the second day since his return that it hasn’t rained. The first non-rainy day, they came down to the beach to the small part of the bank that belongs to the property, where once stairs had gone from the top to the bottom, allowing his grandmother easier access to the water. They had washed away many years ago now, the bank constantly eroding into the Sound. Namjoon and Jimin sat on a washed up log to watch the tide roll in and eventually spread his grandmother’s ashes into the water, letting her forever be a part of the island that she loved so much.

Now, taking the opportunity of the sun shining again, Namjoon walks hand in hand with Jimin, stepping out of the way of the water as it rolls softly back towards them. The wind blows in from across the Sound, carrying the scent of salt and tide. As leans into his frame a bit, probably to steal some of his warmth, Namjoon bends down to kiss Jimin’s temple. When he straightens up again, giving Jimin’s hand a squeeze, he thinks he hears the message on the wind, “Welcome home.”

[shadow-trickster]

Captain N: Adventures in Smash

Chapter 8

AN: Fair Warning: There are some horribly translated words that I attempt for this chapter when Wren is being introduced to the boxers at the WVBA. So reader’s discretion is advised. Also it’s implied that Mac has some feelings for Wren at the end, so do look out for that. Enjoy the fanfic and constructive criticism is welcome (to help me improve my writing).

They finally made it: The WVBA, the famous place well known in the Punch Out franchise.

Doc Louis: Here we are kids, the world famous WVBA.

Little Mac: Hey Doc, mind if I give Wren a tour of this place?

Doc Louis: Of course son. After that, we’ll be seeing the boxers.

Little Mac: Thanks!

Little Mac then gave Wren a tour of the WVBA, with Doc Louis following around for their supervision. The more notable ones being the seats and the boxing stadium, the gym, the locker rooms, and the hall of fame. Once the tours over, Mac finally spoke.

Little Mac: Are you ready to meet the boxers?

Wren hummed as she nod her head.

Doc Louis: Alright. You may know this from Mac’s tour but there are three different circuits: Minor, Major, and World. They represent their ranks of each circuit. But don’t get intimidated, they’re like us but with strength and honor.

Wren: I’ll be fine Doc. Where’s the harm in that?

Mac’s trainer smiled at her statement. Then he walked to the gym, gesturing both teens to follow him. He opened the door.

Doc Louis: Welcome to the WVBA family, Wren!

Among the gym are many boxers who are either practicing or working out.

Little Mac spots Glass Joe practicing his footwork in front of a mirror.

Little Mac: Hey Joe!

Glass Joe: Ah! Bonjour Little Mac! Who’s this?

Little Mac: Her name’s Wren. She’s only training at the Smash House learning about martial arts and boxing.

Glass Joe: Hm intéressant. Bienvenue Wren.

They moved on to see Von Kaiser, an older man with a mustache who is shadow boxing with intense focus. He noticed Little Mac, so he turned to greet him.

Von Kaiser: Ah Hallo, Little Mac. Who’s this new blood?

Little Mac: That’s Wren. She’s eager to learn from the best.

Von Kaiser: Ah, Guten Tag Wren! Remember that discipline and strategy are the keys.

They then meet up with Disco Kid, who is currently doing some fancy footwork while listening to disco music. He took off his earphones after seeing his friend.

Disco Kid: Yo Mac, my guy! How’s it going? Who’s this?

Little Mac: Wassup Disco! This girl’s name is Wren and she would like to saw hi.

Wren: Hey.

Little Mac: Also, I wanted to ask you a bit of a favor here regarding next week.

Disco Kid: Okay, I’m listening. Lay it on me, Mac.

Little Mac: One of Wren’s friends is having a birthday party next week, and we may need some music to accompany the party. Do you mind playing some music for her?

Disco Kid: Of course! Anything for my pal here. I hope she likes disco.

Wren: Oh trust me pal, she would listen to whatever kind of genre you throw at her. Rock, Jazz, you name it. I’m also like her, but it depends on the mood, y’know?

Disco Kid: I get it. I’ll be putting up some songs that’ll give us the mood to dance!

The meeting of the boxers continues. So far, Wren has met King Hippo, Piston Hondo, Bear Hugger, Great Tiger, Don Flamenco, Aran Ryan, Soda Popinski, Bald Bull, Super Macho Man, and Mr.Sandman. Much less to Wren’s surprise, everyone is incredibly colorful in personality, especially with the fact that most of them got away from cheating.

Each of the boxers greet the girl with their own unique flair such as jokes, sharing tips, and words of encouragement. Wren became awestruck by the presence of the fighters.

Wren: Wow… I can’t even believe that I’m meeting these famous boxers face to face…

King Hippo: *chuckling* Maybe one day you’ll be one of us. Keep training hard, kid.

Piston Hondo: Dedication and honor will take you far into the ring, my friend.

Great Tiger: *nods* The tiger spirit resides in all of us.

Little Mac: Well Wren, these are all the boxers of the WVBA. Learn from them and respect them, and one day you’ll become the best.

Wren smiled, taking their advices to heart.

Fast forward to night, the three finally made it to the Smash House.

Wren: Hey, I just wanted to say thanks for taking me to New York City, the WVBA, and meeting the boxers there. Especially asking Disco a favor.

Little Mac: Aw it’s no problem Wren. It’s what friends are for, right?

Wren: Yeah. Well thanks anyways. Night Mac, see you at the party.

Little Mac: Night Wren.

Doc Louis: Bye Wren.

As Wren finally left with Chester and Melody, Doc Louis turned to his trainee.

Doc Louis: You’re starting to like Wren, don’t you son?

Little Mac: S-shut up, Doc!

Doc Louis: *chuckles* Alright son, get some rest, you’re planning your next match with someone right?

Little Mac: Yeah, yeah, I got you.

And with that, Little Mac had entered his room, getting the much needed rest while the birthday party is currently being worked on behind the scenes.

[runnning-outof-time]

The Great Snowball Fight | John Shelby x Reader

Request: no - part of my Countdown to Christmas Event

Pairing: John Shelby x reader (prewar)

Summary: In which (Y/N) and John push it to the limits during their annual snowball fight…and maybe they get a little more than they bargain for.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1062

A/N: alright, here’s another gif that we’re gonna have to use our imagination on. 10 days left! Enjoy! :)

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

(Y/N) jumped at the sound of something hitting against her window. Taking her eyes off of her book, she saw that there was snow sliding down the glass pane. She walked over to the window with her brows furrowed. What she saw waiting for her on the sidewalk below didn't surprise her.

"Are you out of your bloody mind, John Shelby?! You could have broken this windowpane!" she yelled after she opened the window and stuck her head out past it.

John Shelby was grinning like a fool as he stood in his spot with another snowball prepared in his hands. "It didn't break though, did it?" he answered her, his response making (Y/N) roll her eyes.

"What was even the point of you doing that?" she questioned him, curious to hear what his response would be.

"It's snowing, (Y/N)," he pointed out.

"And...?" she asked for him to elaborate, her eyebrows raised.

"It's time for our fifth annual Great Snowball Fight," he said it like it was common sense.

"Ahh...how can I ever forget? My one and only chance a year to hurl objects at your pretty face," she said with a grin.

"That's a lie," he stated blatantly, making (Y/N) giggle. "Get down here before the snow stops and it melts away," he said to her then, urgence in his voice.

"If I must," she sighed dramatically, making it seem like it was a big deal as she moved away from the window so that she could get her jacket and scarf. She put them on and then slipped her feet into her shoes before she made her way down the steps.

Snow wasn't very common in Small Heath, so when it graced everyone with its presence, (Y/N) and her friend John Shelby made sure to make the most of it. It didn't even matter that they weren't truly kids anymore...they still had their snowball fight for old time's sake.

(Y/N) exited her house and saw John walking over to her, his arms outstretched with a grin on his face. She smiled back at him before realizing that he had a snowball in each of his hands. "Do not, John," she warned him, her eyebrows raised.

"What?" he asked, an innocence present in his voice.

"You're going to throw those at me," she pointed out, "we've not even laid down the rules yet."

"Lay them down then," he stated, dropping his hands to his sides again.

"Number one: no head shots," she started. John nodded. "Two: no throwing at the other person while they're running away. Number three: no throwing at unsuspecting people - they're not part of the fight, they shouldn't receive any of the consequences. And finally: do not throw any snow that has rocks in it...dirty snow is off-limits."

"That all?" John asked with an intent expression on his face.

"I suppose so," (Y/N) responded with a nod.

"Great," he grinned before he threw one of the snowballs at him.

"John!" she exclaimed, trying, and failing, to block the snowball from hitting her. She then looked at him with wide eyes before she turned and made a break to the nearest pile of snow.

"You said you were finished!" he called back, chasing after her.

"That was still a dirty move, Shelby!" she told him, working on making a snowball in her hands while her back was to him. She knew that he wouldn't throw his at her with her back to him. She then turned and threw the snowball she’d made at him, hitting him square in the chest.

John stopped in his spot and looked at her with surprise in his eyes. He didn't expect her to throw it so soon. "We even now?" he asked her.

"Never," she grinned, producing another snowball from behind her back and throwing it at him. This one hit him in the arm, and he was quick to retaliate with the other snowball, hitting her on the shoulder. "John!" she shrieked, the snow splattering and spraying on her face.

“You wanted a war!” he told her, his smile wide as he went to make another snowball. (Y/N) also got to work on a snowball, and when she spun around ready to fire, John also had one in his hands. “That has rocks in it!” John exclaimed, pointing at the snowball in her hands.

“What?! No, it…JOHN!!” she couldn’t even finish her sentence because the second she turned her head to look at her snowball, John threw his at her. She looked at him with wide eyes, the fact that he was laughing at her misfortune making her angry. “Now you’re really going to get it,” she stated, turning and running towards one of the bigger snow piles.

“Show me what you’ve got!” he called back to her, his shoes crunching on the snow behind her.

(Y/N) kept on running until suddenly she slipped on a patch of ice. She landed with an ‘umph’ and barely managed to turn around before she saw John only a couple paces behind her.

“(Y/N)? What hap…woah!” John couldn’t stop himself from slipping on the same patch that (Y/N) had. He also couldn’t maneuver himself away in time and ended up landing right on top of (Y/N). The second he opened his eyes, he saw her inches away from him. “You ok?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she breathed, “you?”

“Yeah,” he echoed her response. The two stared at each other for a moment then, neither making a move to stand. "You look pretty with snow in your hair," John told her then, a smile on his face.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) couldn’t help but blush at his compliment, unsure of what else she should say.

They held eye contact for a moment longer before John spoke up again, “let’s get you up then,” he stated, standing before he offered his hand to her. (Y/N) accepted it and stood to her feet. “Truce?” he asked her, taking the opportunity of her hand in his to initiate a handshake.

“Truce,” she agreed with a smile, dramatically shaking his hand before she shrieked when John used it to pull her in for a kiss. She immediately decided that this was better than a snowball fight and happily kissed him back.

———

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mgcllovdrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @lovemissyhoneybee @letal-y-poetica @lora21 @valentinabloom @wildheartsalwaysburn

MASTERLIST

Countdown to Christmas MASTERLIST

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Divider by @/firefly-graphics

[stoic-whumpee]

Hi! Do you have any tags/prompts/something related to ice whump? Like uh magic ice whump, or just good old hypothermia, anything ice related? Thanks! I'm searching for it but your blog is my favorite so, I'm just wondering if you have some.

Hello! Thank you for the ask and the kind words :D Let’s get started with some realistic ice whump, and I’ll follow up with some fantasy/more fictional ice whump and natural disaster-scale ice whump later! 

TW: realistic description of various deadly injuries

 - Slipping on ice or snow: You fall faster and harder when you slip on ice. Common injuries can be fractured arm/wrist while trying to break your fall, cracked tailbone if you land on your lower back, and concussion or even traumatic brain injuries if you hit your head on the icy surface. Icy road can also be the cause of a lot of vehicular accident, especially when the wheels slip/skid across ice. 

- Fallen icicles: they are heavy and sharp. Can and will you, or at least leave you with broken bones and bruises.

- Snowballs with sharp objects in them: You might not realise what you put in a snowball, and there might be sharp rocks or broken glass that can hurt you or anyone you throw the snowball at. Snowball fights can also lead to slipping and falling.

- Hypothermia: Symptoms are shivering, loss of dexterity, impaired thinking, high pulse and increased breathing. Once your Whumpee stops shivering/starts to say they feel warmer, however, it’s time to panic. Their body has reached the stage of shutting down, their blood is moving toward their heart to protect it, and the warmth is a hallucination. 

- Frostbite:  Frostbite can cause the skin, nerves, and tissue to freeze at the site of injury. Hand, feet, nose, ears are the most vulnerable to frostbite, and the skin of those area can discolor or blacken. Worst case scenario, you can lose that limb. 

- Falling into a frozen lake: ice is incredibly brittle, especially at the end of winter. Hypothermia occurs much much faster in water than in air. Adding onto that the common things about drowning, except the water is painfully freezing. Your heavy winter can also drag you down, your limps are numb and can’t move, so the chance of you getting out of the water is significantly lower. 

- Carbon Monoxide Poisoning: when you think you are safe indoor and out of the storm, the cold is still deadly and lurking. The fireplace can be a source of warmth and comfort, but in a badly aired house, you are at risk of carbon monoxide poisoning. Symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning include headache, nausea, dizziness and tiredness. If you are sleeping, the poisoning might make you unable to wake up and eventually kill you in your sleep. 

- Skiing/ Sledding accidents: plummeting down a cliff, getting buried in snow, getting hurt by your own vehicles because they break and the sharp edges cut you, etc. 

These are just some concepts to get you started. I’d 100% suggest looking up any of these topics, because there are so much more than I can fit into this one post :) Of course if you want to see my take/expansion on any of them, feel free to DM or shoot me another ask!

And stay tune for more! 

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Vantalaður Ást

Ivar Lothbrok (Hvitserk) x F!Reader

Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15

A/N: So like I said, I wasn’t expecting any of this. Thank you @acrossthesestars for straightening up my words and gRaMmEr 😘

Warnings: I think Freydis needs a freaking warning. And Ivar. Also more mentions of drugs and feels.

Word Count: 3370

Tagging: @ivarisms @majesticwren @a-bang-for-your-bucky @youbloodymadgenius @kaybee87 @punkrocknpearls @istorkyou @smears-and-spots @bulmabhadie @southernbe @ironynoticony

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife crafted by Björn. Toying with your lip, you pressed it into your teeth as you watched Hvitserk, who was sitting opposite you. He was frowning, his hazel eyes glaring as his fingers flicked through his cards.

“You’ve…”

“I know.” You retreated, crossing your arms and trying not to smirk.

“Hvit…”

“Don’t!” He held up a finger, cutting you off which just made the desire to smile so much harder to resist.

“They’re all…”

“Oh I’ve fucking lost! Again!” He shouted, throwing the cards so they scattered over the board. The houses and hotels went flying in a shower of green and red. Lifting your arms up and tipping your head back, you gave a silent victory dance. “How do you fucking do it?”

“Skills, sæti. Skills.”

“You fucking cheat, more like!”

“That is incorrect! You know the trick is to land on Mayfair and Park Lane…”

“Stupid. Heimskulegur fokking leikur!” He gave the board a final shove, spilling your wad of notes into your lap and you gave him a smug look as he disappeared into the kitchen.

“Another game?” You called trying to keep the gleeful tone to a minimum.

“Only if it’s a different one! I’m going stir crazy stuck in these four walls.” He leaned easily against the door to the kitchen, taking a drink from a glass of water.

“You’re telling me? 25 days with no alcohol. That’s a fucking record for me.”

“How much longer?” He groaned, running a hand through his long hair. “They’re going to drop the keys and run right?” He was acting like he was fed up, but you knew he’d rather stay inside forever so he didn’t have to face life outside of these walls. Collecting the cards and carefully putting them in the box, you chose your next words carefully.

“You know you need to ease back in easily. Into work and everything. We’ve grown comfortable here and I’m…well I’m going to go home.” You noticed the hitch in your voice. Part of you didn’t want to go home. You’d enjoyed this time being locked in Hvitserk’s house. With him. True, some of it hadn’t been easy. Holding him and comforting him as he wept or taking his anger as he destroyed the place looking for drugs. You’d even hauled him away from the bathroom window, more concerned that if he made it out he’d break something rather than him actually escaping. The others had visited, everyone except Ivar. It was the one topic that hadn’t been broached by either of you; Ivar, or more accurately, the lack of his presence. You had dared to ask Ubbe about him once, but you were met with a noncommittal shrug and you decided at that moment that this wasn’t the time or place for your shit.

Maybe it was the guilt you still harboured. If you were truthful, the nightmares kept you tethered to that place of darkness. It was those nights where you crept across the landing and slipped into the warmth of Hvitserk’s bed. He never said a word, just welcomed you with open arms and let you fall asleep against him. The pair of you were close before, but this whole experience just raised you up a level.

“I know,” Hvitserk sighed heavily. “It’s going to be an adjustment.”

“You can ring me any time. Shit, just rock up at my flat or work or whatever. I’m not…I won’t leave you again.”

“This wasn’t your fault.” Putting the lid on the game, you shrugged slightly. There was nothing anyone could say to stop the bitter taste that rolled over your tongue at the thought. And in part, you found yourself blaming Ivar. You shouldn’t, but you couldn’t help it.

“I wasn’t there,” you told him simply. He watched you wearily as you stretched up to put the game away. The shelf was too high and you let out a frustrated growl when he appeared beside you.

“Just ask,” he muttered, taking the box and reaching up beside you. He nudged into you, and you elbowed him in the middle, making him double over.

“Oh!” You cried out, a devilish smile creeping over your face.

“No, gods no!”

“I forgot how ticklish you are!” He vaulted over the sofa in an effort to get away from you, holding out his hands in a pleading gesture as you cornered him.

“Please, sæta…!”

“Begging can’t save you!” You told him with a wiggle of your fingers and he smiled, dropping his hands a little.

“You’re so fucking funny,” he whispered. A playful look danced in his eyes and you lunged just as he dodged to the side. You snatched at his top but he was too strong for you. He wheeled round, wrapping his arms tightly round you and lifting you clean off the floor. Shrieking loudly you kicked your legs, but there was no effort behind your cries. Laughter bubbled up from your chest when his fingers dug into your sides as he flopped back onto the sofa, taking you with him. You tried to crawl away from him, hating how this game had been turned against you so quickly. You wriggled desperately to escape his merciless fingers, the motion dragging the pair of you to the floor in a heap.

“Time!!” You gasped. “Time—out!” Instantly he stopped, his chest heaving beneath you as you relaxed against him, still giggling in little fits.

“We need a better safe word.”

“Oh, wow.” It was the only protest you could muster, still trying to come down from the rush the tickling had given you. “How about winner, because I win…Hvitserk!” His name squealed out of you as he continued his tickling attack, hunching over you as you rolled on the floor. Finally he got up, but you reached for his ankle tripping him up. Wasting no time, you crawled on top of him just as he rolled over, your legs caging his as you dug your own fingers into his sides.

“Ah fuck! You’ve—nails!” He yelled breathlessly, desperately trying to pull your hands out from under his shirt. He pulled his legs up, heaving you forward so you tipped over him, your hands flying to catch yourself. He reached out to steady you at the hips, the laughter dying between you as you took stock of your positions. Biting your lip, you couldn’t help but think how nice this was, then you remembered who it was beneath you.

“I’m hungry!” You blurted awkwardly crawling backwards and standing up. He jumped up as well, clicking his fingers, a nervous habit you hadn’t seen him do in ages.

“I’m going this way,” he murmured, curling a hand around the back of his neck and pointing at the stairs.

“Yeah,” the pair of you sidestepped the same way, giving a nervous smile. You went the other way, but he followed.

“Hvit…!” With a rough exhale he planted his hands on your shoulders, his body heat bleeding through your thin top as he spun you round with him.

“Now we can’t bump into each other.”

“Good thinking, Batman!” You exclaimed loudly, cringing when you turned away. What was happening? You never felt awkward around Hvitserk. Ever. He took the stairs two at a time, probably in a rush to get away from you. Grabbing your phone you rang Kat, biting the skin beside your nail as you waited for her to pick up.

“Hello!”

“Hi! Just thought I’d ring and catch up. How are Björn and the kids?”

“Good, the kids are so excited to see you and Hvitserk. What are you guys up to?”

“Up to?” You repeated.

“Doing? What are you doing?”

“I’m…standing in the kitchen. I was thinking about some dinner actually.”

“Have you had breakfast?”

“What?” Why would she be asking about freaking breakfast? You turned to look at the clock and your mouth fell open.

“You just saw the time didn’t you?”

“How is that even possible? I could have sworn it was past 10am. I’ve already beaten him at monopoly.”

“Cheated! She cheats!” You jumped at Hvitserk’s loud shout and gave a shrill giggle that was pumped with pure nerves.

“I can drop you guys some snacks? Do you need anything else? If you want, I could come and get you both…” you glanced up at Hvitserk but he shook his head. The tension was evident in his posture at just the thought of leaving the house and you knew it was going to be a rocky transition.

“No, just snacks are fine. Thanks, Kat.”

“See you soon!” Dropping the phone back onto the counter, you tried to gather the words that floated about your brain, but Hvitserk spoke first.

“Have you spoken to Ivar?”

“What?” You squeaked, having almost choked on your own saliva but needing to give a response at the same time.

“Ivar. Have you spoken to him?”

“Have you?” You snapped back, reaching for a glass and pouring some water.

“We text,” he answered, his fingers flexing against the underside of the counter and you scoffed. Loudly.

“You think I can get him to text me back? Do you think I want him to text me after…” her voice was always there. Gloating, gleeful and never ending.

“He said nothing happened with Freydis.” Nodding, you took your time with the glass of water. Each swallow felt like you were trying to push down glass rather than the clear, cool liquid. So he’d talk to Hvitserk about her but not to you?

“Did he explain the lipstick on his face?” Hvitserk’s head swung round so quickly you thought he was going to fall over.

“Huh?”

“That’s a nope.” You popped the p with your lips. You expected nothing less. The ache you’d been shunting all this time was threatening to engulf you again. The fine cracks that scattered over your heart began to widen and bleed, emotion oozing and permeating every pit of your soul. “It doesn’t matter,” you whispered but Hvitserk tutted.

“I’m going to…”

“Do. Nothing.” Looking up into those hazel eyes you knew so well, even as they wavered because of the tears that threatened to spill over your lashes.

“Sæta,” he whispered. Pushing away from the counter, he enveloped you in a deep hug, one that had your walls cascading down and you sobbed erratically into his warm chest. “It’s ok,” he breathed, resting a cheek on the crown of your head as he stroked your hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Wh-what for?” You asked, pressing the side of your face against his broad chest. Relaxing into the comforting feel of him, drinking in the scent that was so ultimately Hvitserk.

“Because you’re here looking after me. When Kat comes, why don’t you go see him?” Sniffing lightly you contemplated what he’d said. He was right, just because he chose to be housebound didn’t mean you were.

“I don’t think he’d want to see me.”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course he’d want to see you.” The pair of you stayed like that for a few more beats, the pound of Hvitserk’s heart making yours slow and calm and finally you managed to pull away. He spread his hands on either side of your face, brushing your hair back and holding you in place so you had no choice but to look up at him. “Go shower though because you smell—like skyr.” Jabbing him in the side, he yelped and released you. “Your fingers are so pointy!” He moaned but all you did was stick your tongue out at him before racing upstairs.

It was safe here. In your car. With all the doors shut. The building that Ivar lived in loomed in the middle of the street, wedged between two other blocks of flats. You could see the door and just beyond that was his front door. Fuck…fuck. Why was this so difficult? All you had to do was open the door, step out and knock on his door.

The outer door to his building opened and you dropped down in your seat like a fucking stalker. Peering through the car window you saw Freydis stepping into the weak sunshine. She turned on those immaculate heels and you felt a hateful sneer come over your face. You couldn’t see who she was talking to but it looked fairly heated, her voice rising slightly but the words were still muffled. She threw up a hand and started in your direction. Panic skitted over your skin and you scrabbled quickly to make it look like you weren’t just sitting here snooping like an idiot. A sharp rap on your window had you muttering angrily under your breath as you pressed the button to roll it down.

“How’s Hvitserk?” She asked with that sickly sweet tone.

“Getting there.”

“I do wish I could see him,” she lied and you caught yourself from making a face. “Are you here to see Ivar?” A slyness entered her voice and you smiled in an effort to ward yourself against it.

“Yes. To update him on Hvitserk.”

“Such a thing as phones,” she replied absently as she straightened up. “Until next time!” She called, giving you a dismissive wave and you found yourself mouthing silently at her retreating back and crossing your eyes in annoyance.

“Fucking prissy bitch,” you snarled. Anger made your steps slightly jerky, knowing that she’d been here again and probably many more times since you’d been holed up with Hvitserk.

To your surprise Ivar’s front door was open and you pushed it gently, not even sure you were allowed to enter. He looked up from where he was standing next to the table, photos littered the surface and straight away you were captivated.

“Can I?” You asked and he nodded. Closing the door and stepping beside him, you delicately picked the photos up. “These are gorgeous!” Some were of snow capped mountains and sunlight filtering through trees, others were of a horse. Closeups of the bridle, the way his tongue came out under the bit, the person who was riding him flexing their hands on the reins. Cream jodhpurs and rich leather saddles filled the top of the table, you spied two horses. One was a deep chestnut, almost red in the light and the other was the mottled coat of a dapple grey. “Who are these for?”

“Freydis.” Of course they were. Dropping the photo you were holding, you smiled but it held no warmth.

“So I came to let you know Hvitserk is doing great. He will need to be prised out of that house though. I think he’s worried he’ll relapse.”

“I’m sure he’s got nothing to worry about. All he’s done is talk about how well you take care of him.” He limped towards the sofa, the telltale grimace across his face when his leg was playing up flitted to life and you curled your hand into a fist to stop from helping him.

“I’ve managed to take some time off and work from home for a bit, but my boss is losing patience.”

“So? The job isn’t right for you anyway.” Cocking an eyebrow you perched on the other end of the sofa, the arm uncomfortable but you refused to move now you’d sat down.

“What should I be doing?”

“Anything but work for that company. Go freelance.”

“I’m not here to talk about my job…”

“No. You’re here to talk about Hvitserk.” You hated the way he tilted his head to look at you. The glare in his blue eyes as he practically spat out his brother's name.

“Yes, because Hvitserk needs us.”

“He hasn’t needed anyone but you.” Standing and crossing your arms you looked around the flat. The space where his guitar used to sit was empty, as empty as your heart right now.

“This is about that row we had. Weeks ago, Ivar. That was weeks ago!” He sighed, dragging it out and drumming his fingers on the arm of the sofa as he glanced out the window. “I came here to talk to you.” The break in your voice was evident and he turned at the sound of it, but glared at the blank tv rather than actually looking at you. “The least you could do is look at me!” You demanded, the frustration and anger unfurling in your gut, piercing your insides like red hot spikes. “You slipped away and I don’t even know when it happened!”

“I don’t want to do this now,” he huffed. His cane in his hand as he pushed himself upright.

“We are doing this!” You rounded the sofa and cut off his escape. “Gods be damned, Ivar Lothbrok, but you are going to stand here and fucking talk to me.” You waited, not caring how awkward the silence got, but the longer it dragged the more annoyed you became.

“There’s nothing to say,” he finally said.

“I’m—,” choking down some tears you coughed. “Nothing? At all?” He slowly shook his head and you took a step back. Staring at your boots you could feel the whirlwind gathering strength inside you. The swirl of words that you wanted to say but they slipped by before you could grab them. You wanted to tell him how it had always been him, from the moment Floki first brought you home. Ivar had been the one to approach you last, after his brothers had looked you over and got distracted by something else. Ivar had crawled over and just sat opposite you. Both of you staring each other down, the one that didn’t talk and the one that couldn’t walk.

You never knew what it was that made Ivar hate you so much from childhood, but as you stood there the pieces slipped into place. You always gravitated to Hvitserk. And Ivar took that as an indication there was no room for anyone else in your heart.

“You think that I love Hvitserk. Well, you’d be right.” A triumphant glint sparked in his crystalline blue eyes, but it died along with the smugness in his face. “But I also love Ubbe and Björn and Sigurd,” you continued softly. “And you, Ivar. But with you it’s different.” You hated how he didn’t voice what was on his mind, his lips moved, his jaw flexed but nothing was spoken. “Maybe I…” shaking your head you had no idea where this was going. “Maybe I dreamed it all but I’m pretty sure you kissed me! Maybe it was being at the lodge, but since Ragnar…” Ivar’s lip curled and whatever softness you were on the verge of reaching was closed off once more. “You are allowed to talk about him, Ivar!”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?” You chased him, not accepting the way he turned away from you once more, forcing yourself in his path.

“Because when I remember Ragnar—I remember being with you.” Your entire body jolted at the ice in his gaze. His admission wrapped like barbed wire round your heart and squeezed. So he had used you to process his fathers death, those few days in your flat where he’d shut the world out were blissful for you, but filled with pain for him.

“So that’s it?” Nothing. That was all he was giving you. “That’s why you’re…Freydis is a little palette cleanser? Something to wipe the feel of me away?” The urge to run was strong, the need to leave and run straight to the person you knew would comfort you. Ivar said your name as tears finally overcame your vision. They smeared indelicately over your cheeks. Everything about the pain that filled you right now was searing.

“I’m sorry, elskan mínn. My brother needs you more.” Your hand fumbled for the door handle, slipping over the metal because you couldn’t feel it under your fingers. You don’t know if he tried to stop you or if he was helping you open the door, either way you were stepping out into the sunshine and falling into your car. You didn’t give yourself time to breathe. Chucking the car into gear, you screeched back to the one place where you felt at ease.

[navalcriminalimagines]

Can you write another/the following part of "Oh, you're jealous"?

This is going to become a smut series. There's so much more to come! 👀

Warnings: pure smut, dom!Gibbs, boobjob, fingering, bathroom sex, orgasm denial, anal talk

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra

NCIS Discord server: https://discord.gg/7YDHXd3q

Yes, sir

You didn't stop the flirting, you actually increased it. Gibbs wasn't really jealous anymore, because he knew why you did it, but he'd play along. It would give him the right to punish you once he took you home and boy, did he have many ideas in mind.

He watched you dance with Tony. Your body was extremely close to his, he could see his Agent enjoying how your hips were swaying against his. It wasn't really fair for Tony, he clearly had a crush on you. But Gibbs also knew the man would have another crush by the following week.

When you walked to the counter to order another drink, you felt Gibbs's body pressing against yours. "You fucking brat." he growled in your ear, causing you to laugh. "After that drink, you're done. I want your head to be clear enough for what will happen when we get home."

"Who said I was coming home with you tonight?" you grabbed your drink that the bartender put in front of you and thanked him. You were discreetly grinding your ass against Gibbs's crotch and you could feel a consequent bulge in his pants. Before you could take a sip of your drink, he grabbed the glass from your hand, drank it all and took your hand in his.

Gibbs didn't care much if people saw the two of you entering the restroom. Actually, he hoped some people did. Especially men, that may think what a damn lucky bastard he was. Cause he fucking was.

He had a plan and he was going to stick with it. He pinned you against the wall and worked on your jeans. He didn't even bother to kiss you. "You're gonna regret everything you did tonight." He looked deep in your eyes, you were sure he could see your soul. You were pouting, waiting for a fierce kiss that never came.

Gibbs slid his hand into your panties and you jolted at the physical contact. "I hope DiNozzo didn't make you this wet." He said, with a husky voice and you shook your head no. "Tell me who's responsible for this." It was an order. You struggled to form words as he was rubbing your sensitive clit. "Y/N." He was still waiting. He wouldn't get further unless you talked.

"You-- That's all you." you finally said, throwing your head back against the wall. You tried to touch him, his arms, his chest, anything but he slapped your hands away.

"Don't make me handcuff you."

You had never been handcuff before and that idea did things to you. But maybe for another time, you weren't sure you could handle it right now. So, you inhaled intensely and kept your arms along your body.

As a reward, Gibbs entered a thick finger in your wet cunt, still rubbing your clit with his thumb. You moaned from the back of your throat and a smirk appeared on Gibbs's face, but you didn't see it as your eyes were closed.

You were so wet, he could easily entered another thick finger inside your core. "Fuck, Jethro--" you moaned and he took it as an invitation to go faster. "Yes! Right there, keep going!"

Gibbs fingerfucked you there in the bathroom of a bar. It didn't matter how loud you were, thanks to the music. He stared at you losing it under his touch and he loved every second of it.

You could feel an orgasm building inside your belly, you wrapped your hand against his wrist, digging your nails in his skin. When you were about to explode, Gibbs completely withdraw his hand from your panties and you let out a loud whine.

He smiled and sucked the fingers that was just inside you, tasting your essence. "I hate you." you complained. You wanted to beg him to keep going but it would be so easy.

"I told you, Y/N. This is just the beginning," he said, before closing the distance between your bodies. He kissed you intensely, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. "Until I say otherwise, you're not allow to touch yourself. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." you swallowed thickly.

"Good girl." he smirked and kissed you again, before exiting the bathroom.

You went back to the dancefloor. An orgasm denial was new to you, and you could feel how sensitive you were just by dancing. You kept looking at Gibbs from the corner of your eyes. The man was sitting with Fornell, talking but he was staring at you all along. "Man, she's not going to disappear, you can stop looking at her."

"Jealous much, Fornell?" Gibbs teased him.

"Well, I do wish I had someone to take to the bathroom. Details?"

*****

The car ride to Gibbs's place felt like an eternity. Before he drove off, he ordered you to open your jeans and touched yourself just lightly. You weren't allow to enter a finger inside your wet cunt, just rubbing your clit. But you were oversensitive already, just waiting to explode. When Gibbs sensed that you were close to cum, he grabbed your wrist - not so gently - to make you stop immediately. You whined again and he laughed.

"Poor thing." he teased.

He held your hand in his, rubbing small circles on your knuckles with his thumb. It was such a tender gesture, it made your heart melt, momentarily forgetting your orgasm denial. "I love you, Jethro." you said, not being able to stop yourself.

Since it's one long seat in his truck, he used his free arm to pull you against him. He took his eyes off the road just enough to kiss your temple. "I love you, too, Y/N." he whispered.

*****

Once inside his house, you didn't waste anytime and jumped in his arms. He chuckled, before responding to your needy kiss.

It required a lot of self control for Gibbs not to fuck you senseless right here, right now. He wanted to make you cum hard on his cock, making you losing control under him but that wasn't the plan.

Still kissing you intensely, he took you to the bedroom. He threw you on the bed nonchalantly. "Strip." he ordered you.

You stood on the bed and undressed yourself right in front of him. He looked at you like a lion looking at its prey. You could feel yourself dripping between your legs. It would only take a bit of stimulation to make you cum hard.

When you were completely naked, Gibbs grabbed your ankles and flipped you on the bed. In a second, you were laying on your back and he pushed on your knees to spread your legs. Your pussy was shiny from wetness and he licked his lips.

He dived in and gently licked your sensitive clit. You jolted immediately and Gibbs smirked. He made himself comfortable between your legs and started to eat you like a starving man. He alternately licked and sucked hard on your clit before putting his tongue inside your core. He tried to push it as far as he could, fucking you with it.

You were completely worked up. Gibbs felt you tensing pretty quickly. "Absolutely delicious." he growled. He had only pulled away for a brief second to talk but you instantly bucked your hips, looking for friction. He chuckled, and buried his tongue inside you again.

"Yes, Jethro! Please, don't stop!" you moaned, ready to cum on his face.

But he pulled away. "Damn you, Gibbs!" you cried.

"You don't deserve to the relief yet. You spent the entire day making me jealous, remember?" He moved to get on top of you and kissed you deeply.

“I’d apologize but I know about Rule 6 and— I do not regret it.”

“You just postponed your relief.” You looked at him with questioning eyes, but he just smirked again.

Laying by your side, he explained the rules for the next days. First, he repeated what he said at the bar: you were not allow to touch yourself in his back. Then, he made sure you remembered the safe word. And he let you what he had planned: he was going to edge you for days, you would be begging him like you never begged before. Meanwhile, he’d use you when he wants, how he wants. “Are you okay with it?”

“Yes. God yes. Use me.” You kissed him. “I’m all yours.” You whispered.

“That’s my good girl.” He kissed you more passionately, grabbing your hips to put you on top of him. You could feel the bulge in his pants, his cock was waiting to be freed and taken care of.

Unfortunately, you may cum uncontrollably if he fucked you. He wanted it. He wanted to bury himself deep inside you and fill you up with his cum and then fucking his load back in you again. But that was too risky for the plan. Especially since you just agreed to it.

Gibbs had never done anything like this. Not that his sex life had been simple or boring, but he always had limits. Probably because he knew his past partners were into all of this. But you were different. You were open-minded, ready to try anything at least once, and damn, you were so needy with him, always wet and ready for him, he felt like a fucking god. He never felt that before.

You loved sex. But sex with Gibbs, that was beyond loving it. You were craving for him, all day everyday. The man turns you on by just existing, it's too much sometimes.

"Ever tried anal?" He asked, as you were grinding against his rock hard cock.

"No... you?"

"Neither. My exes thought it was--" you kissed him to make him shut up.

"I don't give a shit about your exes. I wanna try it."

That thought only almost sent Gibbs over the edge. Thinking about his cock stretching your hole, feeling how tight you are around him, cuming deep inside your ass, and if he added the fact that he'd be the first, that was a lot. He grunted deeply under your touch. "You like that idea, don't you?" you teased him.

"We will go over the ground rules later, but for now, you're going to make me cum on those perfect tits."

"Yes."

"Yes, who?"

"Yes, sir." you smiled and kissed you one more time before going further down.

You took his pants off him, along with his briefs. He was painfully hard, you could see some precum coming out of the head. You licked it just lightly and he moaned. You gave him a few strokes with your hand before placing his cock between your breasts.

You pressed them around his length and started to go up and down. You could tell from the noises Gibbs was making that he wasn't far. You kept going, taking the head in your mouth a few times. "Fuck, you're perfect, sweetheart." he growled. "I'm gonna cum."

You went as fast as you could, until he tensed under you. You felt his hot load on your chest and chin, as he cried your name. You looked at him coming and it was a freaking hot sight. You've never seen him losing it like this before. He looked even more perfect than he already was.

You laid on his side as he was catching his breath. He looked at you with such loving eyes, you wanted this moment to last forever.

He cleaned his mess on your skin with his fingers and brought them to your mouth. You opened it, sticking out your tongue and sucked his fingers clean. "How are you feeling down there?" he teased you.

"Bite me. I need a fucking shower."

Gibbs followed you to the bathroom and you two showered together.

There was some very long days ahead for you.

[r0se-street]

haikyuu ships as tswift lyrics (happier version)

angsty one?? also im thinking of writing another post like this except with bsd ships, should i??

ushiten:

i think he knows his hands around a cold glass / make me wanna know that body like it's mine / got that, oh! i mean, wanna see what's under that attitude / like, i want you, bless my soul / and i ain't gonna tell him i think he knows

semishira:

you put your arm around me for the first time / you saw me start to believe, for the first time / you are the best thing, that's ever been mine

iwaoi:

handsome, you're a mansion with a view / do the girls back home touch you like i do? / stay here, honey, i don't want to share / sometimes I wonder; when you sleep / are you ever dreaming of me?

mattsuhana:

wherever you stray / i follow / i'm begging for you to take my hand / wreck my plans / that's my man / life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

bokuaka:

when people say things that bring you to your knees / i'll catch you / the time is gonna come when you're so mad you could cry / but I'll hold you through the night until you smile

sakuatsu:

the jury's out, but my choice is you / people throw rocks at things that shine / and life makes love look hard / the stakes are high, the water's rough / but this love is ours

osasuna:

i make all your gray days clear and wear you like a necklace / i'm so chill, but you make me jealous / but i got your heart / skippin', skip-skippin' when I'm gone

kuroken:

everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing about / all of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation / my hands are shaking from holding back from you / cause i don't want you like a best friend / carve your name into my bedpost

yakulev:

the moon is high / like your friends were the night that we first met / the wine is cold / like the shoulder that i gave you in the street / cat and mouse for a month or two or three / now i wake up in the night and watch you breathe

kagehina:

can I go where you go? / can we always be this close, forever and ever? / and oh, take me out, and take me home / you're my, my, my, my, lover

(couldn't decide between two songs so here's another one)

and all at once, you are the one i have been waiting for / king of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa / and all at once, you are all I want, I'll never let you go / change my priorities / the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury

tsukiyama:

even in my worst times, you could see the best of me / flashback to my mistakes, my rebounds, my earthquakes / even in my worst lies, you saw the truth of me / i woke up just in time / now i wake up by your side

daisuga:

i've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night / now I'm wide awake / i once believed love would be black and white / but it's golden / like daylight, daylight/ i once believed love would be burning red / but it's golden

asanoya:

i've loved you three summers but i want them all / swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover / and you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me / and at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover

tanakiyo:

the way you move is like a full on rainstorm / and I'm a house of cards / you find i'm even better than you imagined i would be / cause i see sparks fly whenever you smile

kiyoyachi:

when I'm with anybody else / it's so hard to be myself and only you can tell / i'm only me when i'm with you

---------

tagging @soulreaper22345 (im so sorry if u didn't want to get tagged 😭😭😭)