#security cart edition

[6twisted6gentleman6]

"Have I told you lately that I love you?

Well, if I didn't, darlin', I'm sorry

Did I reach out and hold you in my loving arms

Oh, when you needed me?"

*The beginning to this song will always be one of my favorite intros ever*

[sativaonsaturn]

venus observations

a leo venus is a passionate and dedicated lover - if you deserve it. the opposite energy will be presented if we believe we’re being taken advantage of because leo venus also can get the ick quite easily.

a leo venus also looooves to give gifts! the second a partner or a family member says “i wish” or “i need” leo already has the gift in their cart.

in true virgo nature, a virgo venus is pretty unwavering in their standards for a relationship. even if they choose to stay, virgo is still likely to nitpick if they’re unhappy. it’s recommended for them to look for what’s on their list and not for potential.

an aquarius venus makes such a great friend. any aqua placement is usually interested in humanity so it makes sense that they’d be fun loving and supportive and sociable (11th house).

similar to this, if your venus is in the 11th house you may want to be friends with someone before you date. you may not even realize you want a relationship with someone until you know they can be a good friend and you two have a solid bond.

a scorpio venus’ love is unmatched. their love is not just passionate, it’s profound, it’s intense. once they’ve established that you’re their person, they can’t see anyone else. some say that scorpio’s love is too much but i think the right person will feel safe and a real sense of belonging.

you cannot keep a sagittarius venus where they don’t wanna be. they can’t stay where feel stifled or codependent and they want to know that they’re experiencing as much life as they would if they were single. a sag venus will love a partner who can love them as deeply as they do while respecting their individuality.

a capricorn venus is serious about their love and in such a romantic way. if you want someone who will plan dates, buy your outfits, introduce you to family; cap is the one for you. however capricorn will not behave this way unless they see true potential/ a future.

pisces venus can be either flighty and detached or head over heels in love. this isn’t to say that they can’t ever find a balance but it takes awareness for them. pisces also tends to place expectations on those they love and become disappointed when they fall short.

someone w/ venus in the 4th house is typically in search of a partner who will make them feel at home. often are adamant about pursuing marriage and a feeling of security more than anything.

small edit: a leo venus also loves to receive gifts! especially thoughtful ones or ones w/ sentimental value. they like to feel like you were really considering them when you bought it

sativaonsaturn 🍃🪐

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

For a request:

Maybe a rescue fic with ghost, price, or soap? One where they rescue their non military fem s/o? I know you’ve written some already and they are so good but I EAT THEM UP EVERY TIME and love that trope so much!!!!!!

Hurt/comfort is my drug I swear

I know that’s pretty vague so maybe I’ll think of more eventually but that’s what I’ve got for now.

I love your writing!

- 🧚🏻‍♀️🧚🏻‍♀️

None Lacking Sins

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

Synopsis: It started with the incident at the grocery store and then built to the hidden gun in the nightstand and a quick, frantic, call to your boyfriend.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: Implied stalking, violence & blood, angst, protective Soap, suggestive language and conversations, implications of wanting a kid, vulgar language, fluffy banter, hurt/comfort, canon typical actions, edited in the middle of the night

A/N: I've been in a Soap mood lately, tbh. I think I'm going to flip-flop uploads for my Gaz series and Requests too...anyways. Enjoy, anon! You can never go wrong with a rescue fic!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*  

You called him for the first time when you were at the store, picking out dinner and asking what he wanted for a welcome home meal.

“Well,” his sly voice made you roll your eyes, but a smile still blossomed over your lips. “If you want me to be rash, Bonnie, I’d say that I wouldn't mind a good bite out of your–”

“Johnny, you finish that sentence, you’re not going to get anything besides butter on toast. Give me a recipe before it gets dark out.” Veiled glee was obvious from your tone, and the heat on your face could all but be heard over the line. Two months apart had made you both eager to be in each other's presence. 

Picking up a box of pasta, you flip it over and check the price, sticking to your budget and tilting the phone parallel to your chin. A deep chuckle meets your ears, and your chest feels light as it pierces your lungs. 

Your boyfriend was off in Australia this deployment—he’d been complaining about the heat nonstop on those few and far between video calls the two of you shared. While it was a step-up to know where exactly Johnny was this go around, the prospect of his job still made you incredibly nervous. There was never a time you could remember when he came home without a new cut or scar; bruises were all but guaranteed. 

Sucking down a soothing breath, you place the pasta into your cart and fix the phone’s position. The Scot was coming home in a day or so, you wanted to make him feel at home again. Destress.

You’ll see him before you know it. There’s no need to worry.

“Bit snappy, then, eh? Oh, alright.” The man huffs good-heartedly, and you hear the springs of those thin barracks-bed mattresses as his large frame shifts. Johnny lets off a soft sigh before continuing. You listen intently, leaning onto the handlebar ahead of you. “What about a nice plate ‘O that one you always make—hell—the…the one with the Pollock and cabbage.”

You blink through a laugh, shaking your head and pushing yourself off to go find the needed ingredients. The dish wasn’t easy to make, in fact, it took a helluva lot of time, but you didn’t mind in the slightest when it came to cooking for Johnny. He deserved it. 

“Hey, now,” He teases, smirking to himself, “What’s so funny over there, Dearie? You makin’ fun of me?”

“I would never dream of it, oh great and wondrous, Mr. MacTavish!” You huff, fake serious, as you place a box of cookies into the cart and pass a few strangers who raise an eyebrow at your conversation. A man passes by with a blue cap on, and you swerve the cart to move around him while tossing back a frown. You soon continue on like nothing happened, pulling back the sense of security from the man over the line. “Do you want mashed potatoes with that as well? Wine?”

Johnny groans, “Hey, you’re the one that asked me!” 

Divulging into giggles, you make your way around the store and stock up, holding a light conversation about how he and the rest of the boys were doing. 

“Ghost told me to let you know he appreciated the book you lent him, said he’d get it back to ya as soon as he’s able.” The Scot comments, and a hum makes its way from you as you head to the self-checkout. 

“Well, that’s good. I said he would like it – the bastard’s so tight-lipped about what he enjoys it was hard to nail-down a genre.” A chortle sounds off when you gather the chilled pollock and scan it; the phone was held against your shoulder to your ear. “High Fantasy for the win, I guess.” 

“I should get the man to read ‘The Way of Kings’ next time—form a little book club, y’know? Get all the boys in on it like some old ladies.” It was adorable how cute Johnny sounded, like a kid on Christmas. “Stemin’ Jesus, could you picture that, Bonnie?”

“I’d pay to see you pitch that, Dear.” A cheeky tone leaks through. “Price would laugh straight into your face.” 

“Please, the old man doesn’t know how to laugh….He’d just puff cigar smoke in my face and tell me to fuck off.” 

“As I said—I’d pay to see it.” Your boyfriend grumbles under his breath as you place the paper bags into your cart, the contents heavy, and grab your receipt with quick fingers. “Gaz would definitely be in for it, though.”

“I don’t doubt that. Anything beats playing cards for weeks straight, aye?” Your hand can finally grip the phone once more, and you sigh contently as the strained position of your neck finally rights itself. 

You’re about to answer but slow your pace with a scrunched look of confusion as you exit. 

Passing through the front doors, you suddenly get a strange sensation in the back of your mind to turn around. The hairs along your arms stand up as a breeze passes the steadily chilling dark sky, but the way the shiver ran down your spine wasn’t due to cold. Lips thinning, you spare a glance over your shoulder and look along the brightly lit grocery store as its windows leave cascading rays of light over the sun-bleached concrete. The black asphalt of the parking lot is hard under your feet.

There are a handful of other patrons at the checkouts—mothers with children and others buying quick meals for dinner—but none are out of the ordinary. 

You huff and roll your shoulders.

Maybe the day’s just getting to me.

“Bonnie,” Johnny’s slightly concerned voice brings you blinking back, turning your head back to the sparsely lit parking lot and realizing you had stopped walking completely. Your hand was sweaty like you’d just run somewhere. Fixing your hold on the device, your boyfriend continues, “...Everything alright? You’ve gone all quiet over there.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you laugh dismissively, trudging forward to your car, “I just got the weirdest feeling right outside the grocery store.” 

The cart makes a loud rumbling sound as it goes over loose rocks and the bumpy texture of the asphalt, the metal rattling loudly so you have to strain your ears to hear Johnny’s next words. 

“What kind of feeling?” His drowned-out voice was so serious that it shocked you—you’d only ever heard him use a tone like this when he had briefly talked about nightmares that had woken him up in your shared bed. 

The Scot’s words were monotone, slow, and even if the sound of the cart’s wheels was raging all around you and making your skull rattle, you’d still swear you would identify that tone over a hurricane. It made your gut churn. 

“Really, it’s probably nothing,” you play off with a tense shrug he can’t see, coming to a stop at your car and reaching into your pocket for your keys. “I just got a chill.” 

Your eyes look around before you open the trunk, biting into your lip at the long shadows that the tall street lamps give off. Licking over your teeth, you bink dismissively and shake your head, unlocking the vehicle and huffing as you begin loading in your purchases. 

“Anyways,” you try to ignore the hard build of your spine or the way your eyes travel back to the brightly lit store. There wasn’t anyone out here but you and the dead forms of cars, trees off in the distance, and far-off lights of other buildings. You swallow and clear your throat. “I was thinking about getting us a dog.” 

“You’re not gettin’ out of this that—wait, did you say dog?” Across the world in a shitty bed, Johnny’s once concerned eyes widen, jaw going slack. “No way in Christ’s Hell, Dearie.”

“Oh, come on!” You groan, placing the second to last bag into the car and tuning your back to the street, throwing out your hand. “It doesn’t have to be a big dog—just one I can go on walks with and keep me company. I know you have a bad past with them, Love, but I just want someone to help not make the house so empty when you’re gone.” 

Your voice slides off near the end of the sentence, and you try not to sound so sullen. Johnny frowns as he stares into the far wall of the barracks over the heads of sleeping men, itching at the back of his neck. It was no secret that the Scot wasn’t particularly fond of canines—his encounters with them were almost never pleasant unless he knew the handler. 

But…

“I’ll think it over, eh, Bonnie?” He relents, sighing, and he thinks he hears snickers from a dark form in the distant corner. The Sergeant glares over at it and continues with a pang of internal guilt about how lonely you must feel most of the time. “Promise…but you’re more likely to get a cat dressed in a suit than a mangy mutt anytime soon.” 

You laugh at the attempt of a lighthearted joke, closing the trunk with a roll of your eyes. A breeze goes by and your arms erupt into shivers, clothes not enough to keep out the chill. 

“I’ll take it.” 

“Hm, you know,” Johnny smirks, rubbing at the sleep in his eyes and grunting out huskily, “there’s another way to make sure the house won’t be all quiet when I’m gone.”

“Keep it in your pants, MacTavish. You’re not even here yet.” Smiling through the heat of your cheeks, the skin of your cheeks glows; your body rolls with heat. “Save it for tomorrow.”

“What, am I gettin’ you all worked up over there?” He hums, and you grab your cart, pushing it into one of the specific areas where someone would grab it in the morning. “‘Cause I have no problem with waitin’, Dearie, all the more perfect when I get to be with ya.’”

“You wish, handsome.” Walking back to the slight rumbling of your car, you speak through tilted lips and completely miss the form walking up beside you. “I think that—”

“Excuse me?” 

Yelping, you nearly drop your phone to the floor as it slips out of your startled grip; heart jerking at the sudden intrusion into an intimate conversation. Swiftly turning around you spot the same man as before—the one with the blue cap that had passed by quite rudely in the store. His strong face looks sheepish.

Johnny quickly calls your name through the line, and you let off a reassurance before tilting the device down.

“Holy hell, man, give a girl a warning next time, yeah?” Chuckling weakly to push back tension and the twisting of your intestines, you notice the stranger’s tall frame is covered in a heavy jacket. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah, actually,” He’s not outwardly alarming to look at, the man, with his loose body gestures and controlled tone. “Sorry, but I was just wondering if you could lend me a hand. I found a kitten under a van back there,” he points, and you look over to the far corner of the parking lot. Sure enough, there was a large van surrounded by two black cars. Your eyes narrow on the scene, already getting a prickly feeling. “Do you have any food that might bring it out? Or maybe you’d be willing to reach under and grab the little bastard?” 

The stranger laughs and continues with a jerking of his shoulders. You watch every movement with an upticking pulse, fingers tight over the phone as Johnny listens with growing worry. 

The Sergeant's dark eyebrows pull tight, and he stands like he could run out the door to you; jaw tight and muscles wound.

“Put me on speaker.” You decline silently. Better not to get a hotheaded and protective Scot involved when he was thousands of miles away.

“Sorry,” Clearing your throat, you take a step back, attempting a friendly smile. “I have to get home to my husband.” It wasn’t the first time you’d had to use the spouse card to get away from creeps, and it won't be the last. Worked better than just the boyfriend title, honestly. And there was something about this man’s eyes that didn’t sit right with you. “Work night and all, you understand?”

“He left yet?” Johnny asks, gruff as his accent gets stronger. “Else I’m callin’ the store and sending security out to you.” 

“It shouldn’t take a long time,” the man begs and you take another slow step back to the car door, pupils going tiny. Breaths shallow. “You’ll be back to your…husband, in a few minutes. I’d hate to leave the poor guy all alone.” 

“Sorry.” You say again, firmer. “No.” 

Not wasting any time, you open the car and jump inside, wrenching it closed once more and pressing the lock. Breathing heavily, you stick the keys into the ignition, missing a couple of times, and look into the side mirrors to spy on the tall shadow that hovers like a plague. 

“Sweetheart? Hey?” Johnny calls out your name as you force the car to start driving away, face tight and limbs shaking. “Hey, are you alright?” 

The man has half the sense to wake up Price, but with the stirring bodies around him, there’s half a chance the Captain already knows something’s off. Johnny hadn’t bothered to check his noise level when the uncomfortableness seeped from you over to him. What kind of a man approaches a woman near dark and asks a question like that? The action didn’t sit right with the Scot. 

Johnny’s body hums with energy—volatile rage keeps his heart in a tight fist with a deep seething hatred of not being with you to help force back the freaks in person. He wasn’t above getting into someone's face if the situation called for it; after a couple of outings to less-than-nice pubs, all it took was a few nervous glances from you nowadays for him to create a barrier out of his own flesh.

“I’m okay,” you whisper to him, biting at your lips and peeling back flesh. “It’s all good. I-I’m on the road already.” 

A great weight falls from the man in the form of a sigh. He slowly sits back down on the mattress, lips thinning and slightly shaking his head. His free hand comes up to rub over his cheek. 

“Good. That’s good…” He snaps out of his concerned stupor quickly, but the fast beating of his heart does anything but slow. “You’re okay.” 

It wasn’t worded as a question, maybe more of a reassurance, but it helped you immensely. Your tension lessened at the comforting sound of Scottish drawl and deep, silver, voice. But you wanted him to wrap his arms around you; gaze into those cerulean orbs.

Tomorrow.

“Keep on the line until I get home?” You ask feebly, not able to resist looking in the mirrors as you turn out of the parking lot. 

The blue-capped stranger was still standing there, and one of the black cars in the far corner had turned its headlights on. A deep dread overtakes your ribs like you’d just gotten out of something very, very, bad. A sense of a lingering morality stays in between your ribs.

“‘Course. Wouldn’t be doin’ anything else, Bonnie.” Johnny utters, glaring at the floor. “I’ll be ‘ere the whole time.”

It wasn’t fair that he was unable to be there with you—never before had the constraints from his job hit him full strength in the chest like this. If he can’t protect the ones he loves back on the home field, then what was the point of the Task Force in the first place? 

By the time you get home after taking the fastest route, you quickly gather everything from the back and shuffle inside, pulse still racing. You lock the door behind you and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. 

Johnny’s soft breath over the call was like a lullaby, right in your ear as if he was beside you in bed. Oh, you missed his soft snores more than anything. Your gaze goes glossy, but the tears are held back stubbornly. 

As if sensing your turmoil, your boyfriend speaks lowly. 

“Y’know, I bet the rest of the boys would really love it if we kept ‘em over for a drink and a bite when we all get back. I can whip up something quick on the grill and you can take a breather, eh?” He speaks so softly it almost makes the tears worse, heart palpitating. 

You wetly laugh and place a hand to your mouth, standing in the dark foyer with groceries on the floor and a primal fear slowly leaving you. The familiar scents of charcoal and birch wood from the Scots hair product are stuck into the very walls of this shared dwelling, along with the scuffs on the floor from play-wrestling during movies; a light that needed to be replaced due to Johnny accidentally running straight into it at two am. He had thought an intruder had broken in, but it was just a bird that had snuck in through an open window.

The signs of a well-lived and loved home. 

“But you wanted pollock,” you grumble with a hidden smile and burning ears, pushing the tip of your shoe into the front rug.

Johnny beams and goes to lie back down, putting a hand behind his head against the pillow.

“Well, now I’m makin’ burgers. Guess you’re just going to have to sit back and watch my fabulous arse from the porch, yeah, Dearie? Don’t burn a hole into them, now, they’re the only pair I’ve got, and I know how much you like ‘em.”

“Shut up.” 

“I’ll even wear that apron you got me—what was it you said it did,” the cheeky Scot smirks, all teeth and crinkled eyelids, and hears your complaints get louder as your mind flies away from what had happened almost immediately. “Made me look like I should be in a porno? Hell, if you were in it with me, I’d not complain ‘bout it. Steamin’ Jesus, I’d let you do horrible things to me, Dearie.”

From somewhere in the barracks a low groan echoes out and Johnny snaps his hand down to stifle his loud laughter as you bark at him. 

“MacTavish!” 

Great bouts of laughter leave everyone glaring from atop pillows and from over fingers stuffed into ears; some even get up and gather blankets, leaving the barracks room entirely.

In your foyer, your body blazes with heat like you’d been set on fire, a hand placed over your eyes and a treacherous grin on your mouth. 

“Keep your voice down, you absolute arsepiece!”

“Aye—! That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell ya!” 

“Johnny!”

—

The second time you called him was out of pure curiosity, only a few hours before your lover was scheduled to come home and cook for you and his Task Force. Around six o'clock. 

“When was our postbox all scratched up?” Your thumb runs over the black numbers of the sequence, blinking with wrinkled skin as you take a glance at the neighbors’ and frown. No one else's was like that. “I thought you said you compromised with the local kids and would give them money for sweets so they would stop messing with our stuff?” 

“Little fiends were sucking me dry!” Johnny huffs, “No way the devils would pass up more sugar and do something like that. What’s it look like, then? A few stray rocks manage to dent it?”

Your lips release a sigh and you pick up your mail with an annoyed grunt, closing and locking the cubby as you reply. “No way, it looks like someone took a knife to it.” Clicking your tongue, you shake your head. “God, things have just been going wrong lately.”

Shuffling his feet over the tarmac and hearing the plane engines die down behind him, Johnny takes a glance back. Price was standing at the top of the C17 arms crossed and head tilted—the Scot could imagine the raised eyebrow almost immediately. 

He grimaces and holds up a finger, walking a few more steps away as Gaz leaves the hull with his bags slung over his shoulders. 

“I can’t talk any longer, Bonnie, Price’ll wring me for not helpin’ unload the gear. He’s damn near skinnin’ me already.”

You chuckle, “Tell him I said ‘hello’ and not to damage the face.” 

“Oh, you’re a horror, you are, Dearie.” 

Quick declarations of love and see you soons were exchanged before the connection was cut, and your feet carried you back into the house. Your phone and the mail went to sit on the tiny hallways table, shoes tossed onto the plastic mat sitting on the floor with a small thump. 

Sighing, you rub over your eyes, thinking over if it was worth calling the post office or just trying to fix the scratches yourself. 

“I think we have some paint in the garage…” You trail off. 

Ultimately, you just pushed that to the back burner. Johnny was coming home. Your lips peeled into a large smile, and you’re rushing off to get into a nice outfit for the rest of Task Force who was coming a bit later than your boyfriend. Thoughts of finally being able to be picked up by your boyfriend's strong arms were all-consuming, being held into a broad chest and digging your nails to the dip of his spine. 

Just being able to be around the mohawked-man was a blessing that you’d never take for granted. 

You settled on a nice top and casual pants—you’d met the others before, so there was no need to go overboard. Smoothing your clothes down, you enter the living room and go to open the curtains, letting the light of the interior spread to the small lawn and the street. Humming under your breath, the vehicle outside doesn’t catch your attention immediately; the black metal is just another parked entity sitting still. 

When you do pause, your curtains half-opened, the delayed shock makes you lose precious time as you stare slack-jawed at one of the twin cars from yesterday at the parking lot. Your fingers clench into the fabric in a sudden moment of frozen shock. As if a mythical creature had just run past your field of view, the parting of your lips is instinctual before the widening of your eyes. 

A still second passes before you’re sprinting to the front door—locking it and snatching your phone. Heart pounding, you make a dash to the bedroom, dialing Johnny with fear-tight pupils. 

He had told you if there was ever an emergency to call him right away, he’d get there faster than any police officer; for the record, you believed that wholeheartedly. Johnny was more loyal than a dog in a pack, once someone raised the alarm the Sergeant was locked in. 

Rushing into the bedroom, you trip over the tossed covers but right yourself as the dialing tone sounds out, heavy breathing making your lungs hurt. You open the nightstand table and dig under a collection of books, hand meeting the smooth metal of an M9 pistol. 

Putting the phone on speaker, you throw it onto the mattress.

Legally, you shouldn’t even have this—while Johnny had been teaching you to shoot, you didn’t have a license for it yet. But he’d insisted on leaving you behind with something to defend yourself with.

The confused voice of your lover sounds over the open space. “Jesus, Bonnie, you miss me that much? It cannae ‘ave been more than ten minutes—”

“The car from yesterday is outside the house.” You throw the books to the floor and hear them make a clatter just as you pull out a box of ammunition. Taking out the gun’s magazine, you load bullets with a violently shaking hand. Some hit the ground with a metallic ping, but you pay little attention, just blinking back anxious tears and a harsh focus on the sounds of the front door handle being jimmied.

“I…what?” Johnny’s voice gets heavier, demanding with a snarl trapped in the back of his throat. 

Standing stationary in the doorway Base—about a twenty-minute drive from home, the man’s heart suddenly jumps in his breast. Did he hear you right? Behind him, Ghost slows to a stop at the now blocked opening, watching with narrowed eyes; a large rifle slung over his shoulder and a carry bag in his arm. Johnny’s shoulders wind tight, feet parted as he suddenly turns on his heels and takes off back the way he came in, the phone still at his ear where the Lieutenant knew you were on the call.

“What the fuck?!” Ghost’s skeletal head follows after and pointedly notices the Scots lack of care for how his bags hit the ground but keeps the pistol holstered at his thigh and the combat knife strapped to his upper shoulder. 

“Johnny?” He calls out, but only the wind answers him. “The hell are you off to?!” The gargantuan man sends a glance over to Price who was watching just as intently, lids narrowed. Gaz cleared his throat.

“....Shouldn’t we follow him? Sounds pretty serious.” 

Price sighs, taking a moment to watch Soap sprint to the main building and shove past other soldiers and staff. He grunts.

“Move light.” 

The phone call was filled with heavy breathing and hurried orders. 

Your boyfriend was running you down the basics of firing at a moving target as the sound of pounding at the front door became more hurried.

“It’s not like a stationary target—when someone’s runnin’ at ya, they're gonna be moving quick and you’re not going to be able to fire if you don’t mean it!” 

“Okay, okay,” you mutter with a shaky inhalation, loading the M9’s magazine and clicking off the safety. “What the hell do they want with me?” The whispered question is more for you than it is for anyone else, but the answer from the sprinting Scot startles you. 

At that exact moment, the pounding of a fist stops completely.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re gonna fire at the first bastard that comes down that hallway. We’ll ask the questions later.” You hear a car door opening and a yell from Johnny’s side, soon the clammer of grunting breaths an exclamation of ‘hurry the fuck up!’

“I—”

“If you need to, leave through the window and go to the neighbors. Take cover in the foliage and slip away to the back alley.” Johnny never spoke like this to you—clipped and deathly serious. But now that you think about it, as you stay frozen and barricaded in the bedroom, if he spoke any differently you’d probably break down. “Do you copy?”

This was Sergeant MacTavish, and damn him if anything came between that man and the people he cared about. 

He barks your name, “Do you copy?!” 

“Yeah,” the gun shakes in your grip, but nonetheless you hold it at your hip and turn your eyes to the window. It would be easier to leave, you think. You’re not trained for this! “I–I think I’m going to—”

The front door’s window is broken with a shattering of glass. You rush to the phone and turn off the speaker, afraid that the sound would immediately tell these people where you were. Loud shouts flow into the foyer and spread like venom under the crack of the thin barrier separating you and the intruders. 

“Spread out and find her!”

“Yes, Sir!” 

Sir? You ask, eyes snapping this way and that as Johnny is dead silent on the other side. You think you hear the slam of a foot to the pedal, but you can’t be sure. Fuck, there was so much going on, you didn’t know what to do.

“Screw this, I’m going out the fucking window.” You gasp out, lungs tight and skin sweaty, you turn on the safety on the gun and stuff it into your belt. 

One-handed, you unlatch the lock and strain your ears, hearing feet getting closer. Grunting, you shove the heavy frame up and try to stop the ringing in your ears. Whoever these people in your house were—they were professionals. They had patience; studied your intellect with the trick in the parking lot and followed you home so they could mark your postbox number as a reminder of your address. What the hell was happening? 

Just as you’re about to make the small drop into the flower bed, a creak echoes from behind the bedroom door. You freeze in place, one foot dangling into the backyard. 

Breathing slowly, your eyes lock to the deep shadow that spreads like two distorted poles as the large feet face the very place you’d holed up. As delicately as you’re able with an award-setting tremor in your gut, you place the phone down onto the window sill; Johnny’s loud and worried voice dims as all attention moves to self-preservation. You’re just about to reach for your gun when the door busts off its hinges. 

Starling, and before your hands can find purchase, you’re tumbling backward—out of the house entirely with a stifled shout of alarm. Slamming to the ground and crushing flowers in the process, you have no time to think about the pain going up your spine or at the base of your skull before you’re scrambling for the M9. 

Just as someone peeks out from the window, face covered and holding an assault rifle, you’re firing three shots in rapid succession as you don’t even remember flicking off the safety. 

Two shots miss entirely, but on the last and final press of the trigger, as your arms catch the recoil, it connects. 

A comment is cut short as blood explodes in a great wave of velocity, coating the house upwards almost to the shingled roof. The body slumps, weight bringing it down to hang limp over the frame.

Wide-eyed, you still hold the shaking gun in the air, muzzle smoking, breathing fast through your mouth. Had you just…

Your stomach bunched, acid traveling up your throat to pool under your tongue. Perhaps you would have thrown up at that moment, the setting reality that you’d just shot someone in the head like an anvil in your pounding skull. But the barking voices from inside the house snap you back. 

Gasping down the breaths you realized you hadn’t been taking, your wobbly feet dart to shove you up like a newborn deer as sprinting bodies close in on the porch’s sliding door. God, you could only imagine what Johnny was thinking. 

Bolting out of your backyard fence, you remember your lover’s orders and run as fast as you’re able to the neighbor's open yard, using the darkening sky to help cover you. Cursing under your breath and thinking over all of the ways this should have already gone wrong, you wipe at the tears cascading down your cheeks. 

Don’t think about it—just get away.

It wasn’t long before you were down the alleyway, feet weak and lungs burning. There was a stickiness to the back of your scalp, blood, undoubtedly, from an injury caused by the fall.

It’s a damn miracle I didn’t break anything. 

What would you have done then? Just let those people take or kill you? You shiver at the idea and force yourself to go faster. Darting around a corner, your feet skid to a quick halt. 

The barrel of a gun was pointed directly at your face. 

“Had a feeling you’d be slippery.” It was the voice of the man from the parking lot—the man with the blue cap. Your face jerks to an imitation of confined horror and unease at the same eyes boring into you. He was dressed in gear like the rest of the men now exiting your house to hunt you down. The stranger shifts his feet and you flinch. “Drop the gun, Sweetheart.” 

“Who the fuck are you?” You find your voice, hissing out. The pistol clatters to the floor as it slips from your grip and you hate how you flinch at the sound. 

“Your boyfriend and his buddies are hard to track down.” Blue Cap huffs, and the tall stature of the man makes you incredibly nervous. Backing up a step instinctually, he follows and smirks. “But I figured the best way to meet him was to find his little bird first—he’d come right to me. Cliche, I know, but you can’t fault me. Works every time.” 

What did this guy want with your Johnny? Gritting your teeth, your fingers shake at your sides, hips tense and ready to run.

“He’ll kill you.” You level, not keen to show this man how disgusting you felt being near him. 

He shuffles up next to you, grabbing the meat of your arm. Trying to jerk away, the barrel of his weapon is shoved into your ribs; gasping, your body goes rigid.

If your heart goes any faster, it’ll break.

“Not if I threaten to kill you first.” Forcing you forward, you glare and feel the urge to spit in the man’s face. “C’mon, hun.”

“Don’t fucking call me that, freak.” 

“Ooo…fangs. Can’t be surprised, you did shoot one of my men, after all. Not a bad trigger finger, but you do need decent work on your accuracy if you wanna make anything out of it.” Your eyebrows pull in as you’re corralled back out of the alleyway, barrel bruising your skin and blood dripping down your neck. The man’s grip hurts as a strangled whimper falls from your bitten lips. 

Feet scraping over concrete, you’re brought out into the street as neighbors peak out of windows with drawn curtains; phones to their faces. Did these intruders not care about the police? If anything, that made you sweat more. 

“Ride’s waiting.” 

“I’m not getting into that.” Grunting, your eyes are stuck on the black void of the car parked in the street. A menagerie of other armed men stands all over. “Hell no—you can just shoot me now if that’s the case.”

“Don’t tempt me, I can still go after the Sergeant’s dear old mom,” your lungs chill as the man chuckles to himself, looking down at you through dark lashes. “He has a cousin, too, am I right?” 

Rageful tears spark behind your lids as you blink. 

No way it was going to go like this. Where’s Johnny? 

The gun was taken from your ribs as you’re shoved forward. 

“Get in. Now. We’re already behind schedule.” You stare into the interior and clench your fists, lips quivering but jaw clenched. Your Lover’s voice comes to you, sure of himself and laced with stubbornness. 

If you’re ever in trouble, you wait for me, Dearie. I’ll be there ‘fore you know it, ready to defend your honor like the knight in shinin’ armor I am, eh? Why are you laughing…?

Turning back around with every ounce of courage you can muster, you splay your feet and cross your arms.

“No.” The gun is raised to your head, and you want to flinch back in terror but restrain yourself. 

“Get in.” 

“No.” How your voice wasn’t breaking was a question in and of itself, but Johnny had always said you were stubborn like him. Best time to prove him right was with a barrel to your face, apparently.

The stranger’s eyes light with anger, hands clenching over the body of the weapon as the rest of his men stare on in shock. A growl meets air.

“I’m not asking for a third time, Sweetheart—” One loud boom later and you’re ducking down with your hands over your head, ears ringing and body unsteady; a great weight hits the ground right next to you.

The sound of gunfire rattles the world all around the once quiet street, and you think that you and your Lover will have to move after this. No way the neighbors could let all this slide. Looking up, your eyes jump from the corpse spasming near you to the running men, chaos breeding in the lines between shouts and dropping bodies. 

A hand latches into your waist, and you’re being lifted into strong arms moments later. Squealing, your head snaps to the size and meets cerulean blue inlaid in a strong brow line. 

“I’ve got ya.” Your body loses all tension at the accent that you would know anywhere, even in death, a strong grip picking you up and keeping you close to his broad chest. 

Johnny carries you away in the midst of battle as the rest of the 141 get involved, making quick work of the remaining men. Breathing in his scent, you force your face under his chin, feeling the stubble scrape as your fingers dig into flesh. 

He’s here. He’s—he’s right here.

“Don’t worry, Dearie, I’m right here. It’s nearly over, now.” You try to bring him closer as he takes cover behind a wall, pressing his shoulders against the grating stone as he shields you closer to him. Sliding down to the ground.

His eyes snap back and forth, heart rapid. God, he was nearly too late. Johnny presses his nose into your hair as he breathes deeply, watching bodies fall and feeling you shake. Feeling you shiver; now finally able to let everything sink in. 

“Shh,” the Scot mutters, pressing you closer as you whisper his name in a hoarse breath. “You’re alright. I’m ‘ere, Bonnie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” His hands filter over your skin, checking for injuries and feeling over growing bumps from under-the-skin abrasions.

His teeth clench together in hate, hotheadedness taking over for a moment as part of him wants to rush out and pick a few of these bastards off himself. But it’s just not that simple. 

Looking out into the street with serious eyes, the radio attached to his vest sounds off as the last of the firefight ends almost as quickly as it began. 

“Clear.” It was Price. “How is she?” 

Johnny sighs, looking down at you in his hold as he whispers comforting words in quick succession.

“Shaken, but alright…” The reply is muttered as you sniffle, your fingers going to wipe away tears. “She’s—she’s alright.”

Johnny beats you to it as he tries to calm down, large digits tilting your head to the side and studying intently as he swipes them away with a firm thumb and a careful frown. 

“Johnny—” Your eyes stay locked on him as the Scot gets rid of any trace of fear or sadness, calluses burning your skin just as they always did. His gaze flickers to you; lips pulling tight. None of you choose to move, too content with being this close to one another and safe, even if the situation was serious. “I…”

You trail, not even knowing what to say as the wetness of your eyes blurs your vision, body hot, and the back of your skull aching. Your hands go to cup his cheeks. It’s all the words he needs. 

Eyes soft, the Sergeant attempts a weak and worried smile. “I’m so proud of you, Dearie, y’know that? So damn proud.” Your lips quirk, a strained laugh echoing out. A finger pokes the side of your nose. “Hey, I’m serious now. Stop your foolin'.” 

Johnny’s fingers run deep circles into your temples as you trace the lines of his cheeks. 

“Shut up.” You huff, straining against a wide smile. It was easy to push all of this behind you when you were looking at him. He made everything better.

“Hm,” He moves forward and presses his lips to your forehead, quickly going to lay kisses all over your face until giggles spill out from the alleyway to the waiting three. 

Gaz smiles to himself, Price grunts lightly, and Ghost gazes off. 

“I’ll just have to prove to my Bonnie Little Lady that she’s a prime piece of work, then, eh? Smarter; more quick than a fuckin’ recon team,” he leans close and you have to try and shove him away playfully when he starts to squish you against him. Your laughter grows as his scratchy chin nuzzles your neck. “And don’t mind me sayin’ now, but a proper fine pair of tits and arse to go along with the brains of ya, Dearie.”

“MacTavish!” you squeal, “I should call your mother up and explain how you speak to me—that’s vulgar! I know for a fact she didn’t teach you that.”

“Teach me? Oh, now, then, no one could teach me a thing when you’re around. Cannae think a bit; better off talkin’ to a pile of stone.” You punch his solid chest and laugh so hard your face hurts, breath fanning against his neck as his roaming praise continues as if his mind was a bag of water punctured by a knife. “I’m always thinkin’ ‘bout you, my Little Bonnie.” 

The last sentence is quietly muttered into your temple, a kiss pressed tight. He pulls back slightly and feels at the dried blood on your locks, fingers separating to find the scalp. Johnny’s chest rattles in a sigh, hand shaking slightly when he sees it. 

He’d also seen the body on the window sill, though he knows not to mention it.

Christ, you’d had to kill someone. 

The prospect of taking a life was easy to the Scot—some days he felt like he had been born and bred to do just that. It became simple. Elementary. Like his mother could memorize a recipe, he could memorize the position of arteries; what shot to take at that instant, and which to wait on based only on past missions that resonated like past lives.

But for you…

Oh, it was never supposed to happen to you.

“Are you alright?” Johnny breaths, humor gone and left with guilt. 

He feels your lips on his raging pulse and lets his eyes close, content to feel you move against him as your head remains in his neck. Shifting his body into a more comfortable position, he cages you in protectively. Never again would he allow this to happen.

“I shot someone.” The man’s lips quivered, heart hurting at the blatant shock in your voice. It hadn’t hit you yet, and, hell, Johnny still remembered his first kill like it was yesterday. It wouldn’t be good when all this calmed down. He’d thrown up for two days straight, himself.

“Aye.” He breathes.

“His blood’s all over the house.”

“It is.”

“Is…is that,” you’re shivering, so he massages your spine soothingly until you find the words. “Is that a good thing?” 

He should say no, tell you that the situation that you’d been put in was never supposed to happen and it was just an unfortunate reality. Death wasn’t a good thing, per se. But the man had broken into your shared home—busted down the bedroom door with the intent of using you as a bargaining chip to get to him. So, to the Scot, the answer is clear.

No one messed with his family and lived.

“Yes.” Taking down the air of a dusty alleyway as sirens wail a street over, you weren't surprised that your boyfriend had managed to get to your home far faster than the police could. He said he always would, didn’t he? 

The bills for the speeding tickets and the running of red lights were going to be atrocious.

“Okay.” Your answer is muttered as you peel back, pressing a kiss to the corner of Johnny’s lips. You believed him. Always would. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me.” His bright teeth show off a smile as your mirror. He kisses you heavily on the lips. Whispers against your lips, a promise. A vow. “As long as you put up with me, I’ll always keep you safe.”

“Soap,” Price yells, snapping the two of you out of it. “Get on with it!” 

The Scot raises a shocked brow and smirks down at you as you tilt your head and listen in happy confusion. 

“Y’know, those shots weren't half bad back there. ‘Specially after takin’ a tumble into the flowers.” Your expression freezes in denial as you’re lifted bridal style into the air. Speaking over the calls of police and firemen as they come to the scene, your voice monotones as your legs swing.

“...I missed two out of the three, you dork. That’s failing.” Johnny gapes in mock surprise and you refrain from snorting at the boyish glint in his eyes.

“Jesus, is it really? Hell, you’ll be comin’ for my job in no time, won’t ya? That’s one better than me!” 

You kiss him and feel the grunt through your lips.

TAGS ||

@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @neelehksttr, @shoe1412,@jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet​, @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @nanialis, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @emerald-valkyrie, @michirulol, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @bespectacledhuman, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @astronaunt2009, @shmaptin, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce,

[astarioffsimpmain]

astarion + console 💜

Hey, hon! Thank you so much for this prompt with Astarion!! I love a good hurt/comfort. 🥹 This one got a bit long and intense, so I'll go ahead and put a warning and pop it under a cut.

TW: choking (unintentional)

♡♡♡

He was trembling again. You laid awake in your tent that night, observing your lover who found himself in a fitful, restless trance for another night in a row. He had insisted that he was simply an active sleeper, and that it would be best to ignore his unconscious nonsense. However, with the way his lip trembled until he bit down on it with his sharp fangs, or the heart-wrenching sound of his whimpers and cries, you found yourself unable to leave him be.

Tentatively, you reached across to where he lay and stroked his hair gently. He murmured incoherently, then settled down. Emboldened, you laid the weight of your hand onto his cheek and carted your thumb across it gently. All was well until your nail slightly nicked his pointed ear on the way by, and, without warning, he sprang into action. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, you were pinned beneath him, his eyes wild and unfocused, and his hands wrapped tightly around your throat.

You coughed, panic rising in you. You pressed against his shoulders with your palms, hoping to push him away, but his strength was unmatched, and he only bore down harder on you. Your eyes bulged in your head as you tried to scream, clawing at his arms wildly. "S-Star!" You croaked quietly, hoping to snap him back to the present by using his nickname, but to no avail. The vision around the corners of your eyes began to blacken, and in a last ditch effort to stop him, you laid your palms flat against his cheeks and rubbed your thumbs gently across them.

All at once, the pressure on your throat ceased, and Astarion blinked, his eyes once again connecting him to what was around him. A flurry of coughs escaped your mouth, and your fingers immediately found the places on your throat on which would most certainly bruise by the morning. After several moments of gathering yourself, your eyes flicked to your lover, whose face was alight with horror.

"Star-"

"I thought- I thought you were-"

"I know, it's okay." Your voice was horse, and you cleared your throat a little before reaching out to him. But he wrenched himself away from you and curled up to the opposite wall in the tent.

"No!" He cried, staring down at your fingers as though they were daggers.

You retracted them and adjusted to face him. "You're safe, Star. You're with me, with our companions, and we will keep you safe."

"You're not safe." He muttered quietly, pulling his knees up to his chin. "You're not safe with me. I'm a monster." His voice was quiet, broken, and pained.

"I know who I chose to love, Star." You said softly in return. "You are no more a monster than I am. We've both done terrible things at the hand of someone else. But I'm not afraid; not of you, not of us, and not of our future."

He rested his head against his knees, and his expression softened ever so slightly; fear, apprehension, and possibly a flicker of something like hope. "I'll sit here and read for now." You said, leaning over to grasp the spine of your book. You didn't have to say the words. He understood that your statement was a silent invitation to stay as far away or get as close as he'd like; you'd be there for him no matter which he chose.

Several hours into the night, you peeked over the edge of your book to find a head of soft white curls tucked into your lap, his arms securely locked around your middle.

You smiled.

♡♡♡

No editing or revisions. We die like women with severe brainrot. 💕

[thoughts-and-gayers]

no because the greater intergalactic community must have been SO confused when rick started carting morty around. like, the intergalactic terrorist known for having no morals and fucking everyone over is suddenly taking this random fucking human kid with him everywhere.

and at first, people are like, maybe the kid is a victim of some kind, like he was kidnapped or something, but nope! according to everyone who's interacted with the two of them together, he seems to be traveling with this known intergalactic terrorist (mostly) willingly!

and then, someone hears the kid call the rick sanchez "grandpa" and the intergalactic internet goes wild.

so people start trying to figure out how the hell rick fucking sanchez managed to get a grandson, and why the hell he's bringing said grandson along on his various errands and genocides. because this kid doesnt really come across as some crazy genius, or epic fighter, or anything like that! but one day, a story begins to spread starting from one of rick's former business partners.

see, this former business partner of rick's thought it would be a good idea to knowingly sell rick fake k-lax, and rick didnt react too kindly to it. but, as the story goes, just as rick goes to send a bullet right through the guy's skull, the kid stops him. he gets rick to stand down as long as the guy gives rick a refund. so this guy survives crossing rick sanchez because some human kid had some sort of sway over rick!

the kid's name gets leaked. it's morty.

so maybe some of rick's enemies decide kidnapping morty will be a good way to get sway over this intergalactic terrorist. and they lock morty up, sure, but theyre not that worried about using the most secure locks or hiding the guns or anything like that. after all, the kid's a pacifist, right?

then imagine their surprise when this human kid comes guns blazing out of the burning wreckage of their base, coated in the guards' blood, just in time to hop into rick's ship (which only just arrived) like its no big deal.

and people realize that this kid might be more of a threat than they thought.

and, eventually, morty smith's presence is almost as intimidating and panic-inducing as the presence of rick sanchez.

and people on space tumblr edit flower crowns onto pictures of morty that they stole from news websites.

[steviebbboi]

Hi! Me again 😅 I have another request for Good For It Ari ❤️ Was wondering if you could do a proposal/marriage moment between them too? Wondering if there would be any angst/push back from the town at all/or like how’s the town feeling about now later down the road? Do they still like them or not? Thanks again ❤️

Hi hi again~ thank you for sending this in <3 i love this prompt too! it definitely made me think hard about how Lumberjack!Ari would propose given that his language is comprised of well-placed, intentioned grunts lol but i hope that i did it justice.

Pairing: Lumberjack!Recluse!Ari x F!Reader (Good For It)

Word Count: 1.6k~

Summary: How would Lumberjack!Ari propose to you?

You could read the original fic here.

Disclaimer: ***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't demureeee***

Reblogs help writers reach more readers who may also enjoy our work. As you like, kindly reblog~ <3

Warnings/Triggers: explicit detailed depiction of smut in a memory, lovie dovie softness, protective and mild possessive Ari showin’ up to wreck you. this isn't beta read, and most likely will read it over again to edit but wanted to put it out for ya'll to enjoy!

The cart wheels rattled along the road pavement as you walked into the store. You could feel some of the speculative stares already as you perused the vegetable aisle. 

Looking at some of the fresh veggie options, you could feel your heart thundering heavily and could feel the heat start to envelop your body underneath your clammy palms. Instinctively, you inhaled deeply to alleviate the tension building in your shoulders when you also start to hear the whispers. 

You were staring way too long as two identical pieces of squash when you felt the relief come in, “Should I give you three a moment alone?” 

Broken out of your dissociative gaze, you scoffed out a laugh while you turned and looked up to find Ari smirking at you. His frame towered over your significantly smaller one as your narrowed eyes met his affectionate glint. “No, you brute– we have concluded our meeting, thank you very much.” You teased back at him with a mocking smile. 

Ari only chuckled and put his burly hands on both of your shoulders and squeezed lightly. You could feel the tension slightly leave your body at his touch as you put your best pick of squash in the cart. 

Ari did his best to cheer you up whenever the both of you were out together. Even in the most mundane tasks, people seemed to still enjoy torturing you with their prying stares and gossiped whispers. Even though it's been two whole years since you started dating Ari, people still seemed to carry their weighted opinions about your relationship. 

The guilt that Ari carried for what happened at the mill has dissipated throughout the years– his feelings no longer diminishing your relationship together as you both worked it out a year ago. You tried to remind yourself that other people had no say or merit in the security of your relationship together. In all honesty, their judging natures have only helped you both grow closer together, never doubting each other’s feelings for the other. 

Classically, Ari’s protective nature only grew the more that he noticed the town’s critical disposition towards you in particular. He didn’t much care about their opinions of him, but when it came to you, he felt a heightened sense of defensiveness. 

You carried a light in his world that was unfamiliar to his own–he knew the significance of your presence in his life, he felt better and just good with you in his life. He would happily follow you to the depths of any sense of darkness. He understood that your sensitive nature has taken others’ criticisms more personally, but he also knew that he would never let anything come too close, or at least, close enough to jeopardize your relationship. 

You were a softness to protect, he cherished you, and utterly adored you. Ari would do anything to preserve that with you and in your shared life together. 

Not ignorant to the glances that people were extending towards your direction, he used his commanding physique to his advantage to narrow his gaze directly at those who were brave enough to send stares in the first place. Once they noticed his directive blaze, people would flush and scurry their grocery carts away in a masked hurry. 

Satisfied, Ari turned back to you and put an arm over your shoulder casually while placing a kiss on your hairline as you looked at him curiously. “Now, what’s next?”

Surprise bloomed in your thoughts as you noticed that the further you walked into the store, people seemed to deviate their intrusive stares away from you and Ari. Either you were getting good at avoiding them, or you were missing some sudden piece of information. 

Your thoughts were curious as you glanced over at Ari from the passenger seat. The breeze from the open windows graced soft wind through his locks, he looked so effortlessly relaxed and handsome. 

Eyes still pensive, you couldn’t help the small smile that grew upon your lips. 

Ari sensed your stare as he took a glance over at you before looking back at the road. Catching the inquiring glint in your eyes, he glanced back at you, “Everything okay, baby?”

Humming out an affirmative yes, you said simply, “You’re pretty.” A full smile graced your face at his typical responding grunt. 

You didn’t forget your earlier thoughts though and continued, “And you’re sneaky.”

Ari released his own slow hum this time that you quickly mimicked. “I don’t know what happened, but something did.”

He didn’t say anything even though you made your speculative tone obvious. He only gave you a soft smile and merely took his right hand off the wheel to extend an open palm. You narrowed your eyes at him again but took his invitation and put your hand in his. Once your palm met his, he gave you a gentle tug to pull you closer to him and you tucked yourself all small underneath his arm while resting your head on his shoulder. Ari’s calloused fingers stroked your exposed skin on your arm intimately while you both sat in silence the rest of the drive home. 

You knew how Ari oriented himself to shield you from the nosy outsiders scrutinizing your relationship. While you liked to think that you could handle it all on your own, you secretly enjoyed it when Ari protected you like this. There was just something about his guardedness that made you feel worshipped and cared for– on the flip side, it was also assertive and dominating. It was definitely dangerous, but that's what made him so alluring and even more attractive in your eyes.

Something told you that Ari knew that too. Your mind suddenly flashed back to last night– the room barely lit by the moonlight shining exposed through the curtain. Your legs bent over Ari’s broad shoulders which forced your legs open wider to accommodate for his weighted stature as he held you down for his gluttonous tongue that lapped and sucked at your soaking wet pussy eagerly, over and over again until you felt the day’s stress leave your body with each mind-numbing orgasm that he gave you. 

You cleared your throat as you felt your breathing shift momentarily, your body instinctively reacting to the memory as you fidget closer to him. It was like he knew what you were thinking as he released what sounded like a knowing hum at your movement and kissed your temple tenderly.

Finally reaching your shared house, you giggled as Ari took most of the grocery bags from the back of the car and ducked his head as he entered. The rest of the evening was spent cooking dinner together, a favorite pastime that the both of you loved to do. 

It was later when you were resting on the couch, both of you stretched out leisurely. You were unwinding from the day, already in your night clothes (you in your camisole and underwear and Ari wearing only sweatpants as you bullied him into being shirtless for the remainder of the night). Your legs entangled together with your head resting on Ari’s naked chest while he held you closer on top of him. He had one long arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand stroked and played with the back of your hair lazily. A calming and grounding feeling overtook your body at the sensation. Your favorite movie was on, but with Ari’s soothing touch and his soft heartbeat thudding underneath your ear, you could feel your eyelids getting heavier. 

A frown settled on your face when you felt a sudden weight and cooling feeling on your hand that was resting on Ari’s shoulder. Your sleepy eyes glanced up towards the limb and widened. 

There, resting on your left hand on your ring finger, was a simple silver band with a round stone just glimmering at you with how it shined underneath the warm light from the living room lamp. 

Not really registering what you were looking at, you rose up from your lazed position on Ari’s chest suddenly to pull your hand closer to your face. Almost as if you couldn’t get closer to it, you inspected the jewelry on your hand as if it was magic. Your shocked eyes met Ari’s equally sleepy and rested gaze as he took in your reaction humoredly. 

“Ari…what–,” you started with awe in your voice. Ari took your left hand away from your stunned face to bring it to his soft lips. Your breath hitched as he kissed the ring on your finger solidly.

“From the first day that I met you, I knew that I wanted you. To this day, even though I already have you, I still want you. But, I also need you.” Your eyes glittered with tears at listening to his affection-coated words. He would never really admit it, but his blue eyes also glittered with his own. 

“I love you. And, I think that you may need me too,” his deep-toned voice was rasp with desire as he continued, “if you’ll have me.” He placed another sincerely soft kiss on your ring finger and continued placing kisses up all over the inside of your wrist. 

His other hand wiped at the tear that fell and you grabbed his large hand before he could pull it away. There were so many things that you wanted to say but your voice locked in your throat. You took his large hand in your own to kiss his own ring finger softly with a whispered “yes.”

Ari’s mouth opened with his own gasp at the feeling of your plush lips on his skin. Hearing your tender response, Ari allowed his own gentle smile to grace his content faced expression as he pulled you down to clutch you desperately close to him. Pressing soft kisses on each other’s exposed skin periodically, you held each other for some time, your newly sparkled hand intertwined with his. 

A/N: AHHHH, their softness really just kills me. And the NEED argh, i wrote it and also dyin' from the sweetness of this drabble. pls let me know your thoughts, they are so welcome. <3 hope you enjoyed!

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[wetandtiny]

Under pressure

Approximately 2.3k words

*my boyfriend helped me write the last half (even tho i edited it a lot after) tell me if you like it, that way i can give him some feedback on his work.

Intro

You were in a friendship/platonic relationship with Alastor, you heard rumors about him saying he's not interested in sex or relationships but couldn't leave your feelings away for him. You did all kinds of services (non-sexual) for him, in exchange for his protection, it was a simple deal you made with him couple months ago. Your deal made him aware when you were in a panicked state. Very easy on his side since you didn't like trouble, most of the trouble came from the fact that you seemed close to him, and his enemies (mostly vox) wanted to take advantage of that.

tags

minors DNI 18+ only

#hazbin hotel #alastorxreader #genderneutralreader #forcedproximity #repressedthirst #smut #nonsexrepulsedalastor #petnames #patronisingalastor #subalastor #receivingalastor #bite #needyreader #handworship #mouthaction #jokesonyou

Minutes ago, you were running away from some vox security bot who had been repurposed for other tasks, you turned a corner missing one of their grappling hooks going for your shoulder. You ended up setting yourself up in a dead end. One of the bot grappled your leg, you fell on your butt as it yanked you pretty hard. Multiple of them came crawling and flying their way to you as you tried to free your leg from the hook. As you unhooked it a flying drone dropped a net on you. You were all tangled up as you were trying to push back the other bots from tying you down. Panic started to rise inside you, your breath getting faster, you didn't want to cause any trouble to Alastor, but you knew it was in vain as he could feel your panic from miles away. You heard a bot break in front of you powering down as it was squished on the floor. 

-Sorry my dear, it took me some time to get here. I see you are in quite a predicament, let me help you. He said while destroying more of the bots and drones mostly with his tentacles.

Alastor could have just teleported you both to a safe place, but enjoying the trill of killing stuff for free would have been a waste (Even though it was not actually living). You freed yourself from the annoying net, after a couple minutes later most the bots were disabled. 

-Now that wasn't much of a problem, was it?

Instant guilt built up inside your brain.

-I'm sorry Al, I should have been able to take care of it by myself, I didn't want to disturb you in your work. I know you have so much to do for the hotel and everything. As you said that one of his eye twitched in annoyance, then his ears rotated to hear behind him. Another swarm of bots was coming, now that Alastor was here, surely vox would send most of them out, including the attack bots, knowing he could get his hands on the radio demon. You looked behind him seeing all the red dots of their cameras starting to light up the alleyway.

He sighed with annoyance.

-I did have other plans for this evening.

You didn't want to annoy him any further, so you thought maybe if we got out of sight of the cameras, he could teleport us somewhere else. You took his hand and ran to the backdoor of the building on the side of the dark dead end you were in. Door was locked, but you made quick work of hit smashing it with your heel. You got inside the building quickly, closing the door best you could behind both of you. You were in a pitch-black back store full of boxes and utility carts that you saw slightly before the door closed completely. The only thing you could see in the dark of the room was Alastor's red piercing eyes.

"Alastor, do you think you could teleport us somewhere safer?" You asked him.

"What's the magic word?" He said with his eyes on you.

"Al! We don't have time for this, come on!" you started getting annoyed yourself.

"Then, no I won't" he said giggling as he closed his eyes. Now you couldn't see anything, you were left stranded in a place you didn't know, scared as fuck. You could hear the clickety of the robots outside walking to the now unlocked door of the building.

"Damn it Al... Fine... Please radio demon sir, could you please move us somewhere safer." 

"Well yes dear." He responded with his smirking face lighting up directly in front of yours. Surprised, you lost your footing, your butt heading for the floor, but he interrupted your fall lifting you up by the waist holding you against him, you felt like you were falling for a second time due to the teleportation, his legs folded up, knees now resting on your upper back, your hips now against his. You tried getting up as you found footing again, your head hitting the now weirdly low ceiling with a loud pang.

-Ouch!

-You should stay sitting and quiet, love, if you don't want them to find us.

You could see his stupid smirk lighting up the small, enclosed space you were stuck in. You were so much more annoyed now, how the fuck was this his reasoning, teleporting to the hotel or literally anywhere else would have been 1000 times better than being stuck in a small space with your body against his, his breath down your face, red eyes looking directly into yours, your hands with nowhere to go but his chest and his hands resting on your back. Oh no! Shit! Don't think about that NOW. Stupid body reacting to sudden physical contact. Contact that was missing all sooo much inside of you since the start of this dumb deal with him. Robot attack! right that's the right thing to think about. Get your mind in the right place. Damn it.

-WHAT THE FUCK! Al where are we? Did you fucking hide us in a fucking cupboard or some shit? What are you thinking, how is this any better than being outside-

As you were spouting nonsense his eyes tensed up, you felt one of his hand leave your back and press over your mouth ‘Sssshhh’ urging you to stop making noises. More physical contact! Shit! It did indeed stop you from complaining even more *gulp*, few seconds after, you heard the door of the building opening and the little sound of the bots’ legs hitting the floor. 

His hand was covering the bottom half of your face, the fingers and palm of said hand reaching both of your ears easily. Taking some small breath, the air you expulsed tumbled down the both of you. The softness of his hand on your lips, you had a really hard time suppressing your intrusive thoughts. God you just wanted to kiss and lick his hand, sooo much! Your mind was entirely focused on not doing that. You closed your eyes as your breath became more and more short and fast. You couldn't register the fact that you were becoming putty in his arms, your body slouching into him, your back hitting his folded legs behind you, knees coming in contact with the surface you were on, your hips sinking into his. You had to suppress noises as your mind caught up with how your body just melted into his and the fact that your clothed crotch was now in contact with his. 

His eyes relaxed a bit, removing his hand slowly from your face, you felt a string of saliva down your chin, most likely connected to his hand. Your breath now big inhales coming from your mouth, you cursed the fact that the only thing you could see was his eyes and mouth. You tried grabbing his hand as you lost your self-control, reaching forward, your fingers only found his chest, you started trailing your way, patting his chest, shoulder, and upper arms. You saw his stare question you as you were touching him unprompted. But you, as much as him, knew that the situation he put you both in was a double-edged sword. You feigned indifference as his eyes were on you, you looked where your hands were travelling, even though you couldn't see at all. You reached his hand on his knee behind you, moving slowly to make sure you were not making any noise. You slid your fingers under his, interlocking them, your fingers spreading almost painfully as his hand was so much bigger than yours. You moved his hand ever so slowly back to your mouth. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears as it followed the boldness of your moves. 

You had never made any move to show your desires to the radio demon, always been a good little platonic partner even though you wished for more. 

But he chose to mess with you so that was on him, he could very well teleport the both of you somewhere else anytime he wished, so you'll continue your scheming as long as he would keep his shit up. 

As his hand reached your face you took it with both of your hands opening all of his fingers around your face, hiding behind it, his surprised stare disappearing behind it as your tongue slipped out of your mouth to crash against his wide palm. He had a surprised tremor and you feared immediate rejection, but he didn't pull his hand from your face or make any move to change anything. You started licking his palm wholeheartedly pouring your soul into the motion, conveying your long-repressed needs, your whole mouth moving into action, lips sucking the skin slowly, kissing it softly, mouth silently slurping at his palm, salivating at the texture of his skin directly on your tongue, the salty sweat of his hand in your tastebuds. Going up toward his fingers, scared of looking at his face, you closed your eyes. Tongue licking the webbing in between his digits, you heard a silent gasp from him, as your tongue slid in and out between his fingers. You could feel his loud exhales tickling your eyelashes, you were covering his hand with saliva. Then you felt his other hand move off your back, heard his claws scraping the "floor" where you were sitting, coming to wrap around your ankle, his touch whispering up your leg, squeezing periodically, his speed matching the one you were using to lick between his fingers. Hand reaching your knee, you stopped licking, panic gathering a bit in your stomach, anticipating for him to move further up. He stopped his hand at the same time as you, kind of like saying that if you wanted more you would have to show him by your actions.

It was a scary situation, was this a threat? Or maybe he needed some clarifications. Knowing him, it could be both, but the time you two shared did give you enough courage to get you so far, so without fully processing what your next move would lead to, you tenderly, pressed your teeth in the fleshy part of his palm under his thumb, nibbling with different pressures. He let out the faintest and only whelp you’ve ever heard coming out of that mouth.­ You slightly pulled away, both of you looking taken aback. Rarely does a reaction manage to breakthrough and escape his unwavering smile, and never in a million years would you have thought it would be in this context. Your heart was racing like it was fueled by hell’s fire itself, pressing you to continue in that tortuous road. The fog in your head seemed to clear with the vocal reaction he made, he wants this too! Maybe even, he needs this as much as you do. But this was not the only effect the noise you could hear, outside the little bots were coming closer to the, you assumed ‘’cabinet’’. You exhaled the breath you were holding, now inspired by this realization, once again you brought his hand back to your mouth, you glided your nimble tongue on the bite mark you’ve left, then up his thumb, wrapping the best you could, the softness of your tongue around the flat of his thumb. His head slightly tilted backwards, eyes closed, grinning ajar. His breaths becoming more and more panting. His body was sieged by shivers, stirring his core. Poor Al… You thought to yourself, all this time being touch deprived. Even if he would never admit it out loud, his body betrayed him in the most obvious ways possible. A growing hardness where your bodies where resting against one another, filled you with lust. W­­ho knew a devil’s heart like his could pump this much blood, from such simple touches. You took the whole tip of his finger in your warm mouth, firmly closing your lips on it while using your tongue like you would while sucking a cock. Alastor’s reaction was immediate, his free hand let go of you and he reached for a support point in the chokingly small space, his claw, scraping the ‘’wall’’ next to you, his whole-body becoming tense at your action. His hips turned his shivers into a rhythmic flexing of his pelvis. The continuous panting and the jitter of his movements rattling the cupboard you were stuck in, making it obvious to the bots that you were hiding in there.

You took another bite, his thumb still in your mouth and in a muffled voice you said ‘Sssshhh’, now urging him to stop making noises. His eyes jolting wide open as if he just realized that he’s being toyed with. You rotated your hips, getting a better angle in which you could move. You heard him gasp as you pushed his waist down to the floor by rubbing yourself down on his core. You felt the struggle of his hardening dick in his pants. Then you pulled out his thumb from your mouth, a sliver of saliva still hanging from his hand to your mouth. Red light could be seen through the door of the cabinets illuminating slightly the space. You leaned closer to his face, your lips brushing his cheek, reaching his ear, hushing this silky threat. -Why don’t you be a dear and teleport us somewhere safe?... unless… you want me to stop?

Dividers and banners made by me, please tag me if you use them.

[cosmicstarlatte]

Devil-Mart: Shopping (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

The brothers and you go grocery shopping. You can imagine what that's like.

»Characters: Demon Bros + very brief Dia and Barb

»Tags: Shitpost, Some Wholesomeness, Levi my boy, Dia is precious as usual, Bulleted Style

»Notes: Sorry I know I've mentioned this a few times but finally edited it to my liking. :'3 Alternatively I have another fic where they actually work at Devil-Mart if you haven't read that one lol.

Lucifer:

Grabs two carts, one being a race car type with two seats

"Levi! Belphie! Get in!"

OF COURSE HE STRAPS THEM IN

Puts a backpack leash on Asmo

"Beel, Mammon, get a cart each."

They're a big family so yeah they need a lot lol

"Satan, stay where I can see you!"

This man pulls out a CVS-receipt type of shopping list

You can practically hear western showdown music as he stares down another customer for the last bag of spicy newt chips

Hands Satan Asmo's leash

He wins the last bag of course

"SATAN! ASMO! Where did you go!?"

(Later)

"I have a coupon for this."

"Well the sale sign said-"

"Here's my rewards card."

"I have reusable bags, thank you."

Mammon:

Thinks grocery shopping is boring but only goes because of you

Is the reason the store started locking more stuff up behind glass cases

Has tried to bargain with workers and hopes it works one day

Confidently accepted Satan's bet (you tried to stop it)

He left his shopping cart with you

Next thing you know he gets on the intercom

"Lucifer! Daddy will find you! Don't cry! If anyone sees a black haired-"

Lucifer drop kicked him knocking him unconscious

[Security Liked This 👍 ]

Levi:

Happily gets in Lucifer's cart and continues gaming on his console

Is use to Lucifer strapping him in

Finds it oddly comforting

"Lucifer can we get the Ruri chan limited edition cereal!?"

"It's on the list."

"Lucifer! Don't forget we need more Hell Sodas!"

"It's on the list."

"Oh and my special Ruri shamp-"

"Leviathan."

[A few minutes later]

"...Hey Lucifer!"

"LEVIATHAN."

Satan:

Didn't want to come but Lucifer makes grocery shopping a family outing

Walks around reading a book

Bet Mammon he wouldn't get on the intercom and embarrass Lucifer

He knew he'd do it

He happily threw the grimm on his unconscious body

He took out the last jar of inferno bee honey from a families cart when they weren't looking

Occasionally crosses off Lucifer's snacks so he forgets them

Decided to ''save'' Asmo when he got the chance

Asmo:

Not the first time he's been on a leash

Just typed away on his D.D.D

Keeps trying to flirt with any cutie he sees

Lucifer yanks him away every time

However Lucifer does use him for discounts at the meat deli

Asmo doesn't mind he always treats it like a game to see what he can get 😏

Employees have fought for the chance to help him if he requires assistance

Was thankful when Satan saved him from Lucifer's watch

They went shopping at the cafe book store next door

Beel:

Loves grocery shopping, loves it

Always has to eat a giant meal before shopping otherwise he can't go

Food and family outing only the best duo!!!

Always feels guilty knowing the list is long because of him but he does his best to help Lucifer shop for the items

Pushed one cart with food and pulled the other with an unconscious Mammon inside

Is the reason the store stopped doing free samples

Belphie:

Immediately started snoozing when Lucifer strapped him into the cart

Doesn't care much for grocery shopping but doesn't fight it

Grannies always coo over him while he sleeps

"Oh what a cutie! The other one is kind of odd though..."

Lucifer always carries a sleeping Belphie back to the van while Beel packs the back of the van with you

Sure Beel could carry him but Lucifer insists its Beel's duty to help with grocery shopping as much as he can

Lucifer won't admit he has a soft spot for the youngest

Belphie won't admit he pretends to sleep so he can be carried by Lucifer

As you guys leave, you see Barbatos walking in, pushing Diavolo in his own race car cart who is happily "steering".

"We're going to the chips, Barbatos!"

"No, we are here for dinner ingredients my Lord."

"But I'm turning left!"

->[Dia & Barb art]

⬦You might also like: Coconut︱Mexican Restaurant︱Waffle House︱ You ARE The Father

[honeii-puff]

It's the light, it's the obstacle that casts it

In which Corvus fails at trying not to think about things. Co-written and edited by the lovely lovely @sorinethemastermind I write the Corvus POV's, they write the Soren POVs. Also on Ao3 and it has a playlist!

Corvus knew it was going to take a while for him to unpack the bombshell of information that Soren had told him the day before. Lucky for him, he could do that while helping pack up the large camp.

King Ezran’s plan was to relocate the camp to the Banther Lodge, to make help more accessible and so there was more space for everyone.

It was a good idea, but it was just a very long journey for all the supplies they had to transport.

Corvus spent most of the morning taking down tents and helping move things into whatever wagons that were able to be salvaged.

Soren is an elf.

Half-elf, part of his mind corrected him. Soren is a half-elf.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with this information, if anything at all. It didn’t change anything. Not to him, at least. He was still Soren. His best friend.

Nothing was ever going to change that.

Once everything was secured, Corvus, as well as several other members of the guard, mounted the horses pulling the carts of supplies, and at midday, what was left of Katolis started its trek to the Banther lodge.

One of the carts also had Runaan in it, his wrists tied to one of the posts, and he was surrounded by stacks of linen used for the tents. It looked quite amusing.

Some smaller kids hitched rides on the carts as well throughout the journey, sitting on top of wooden crates and more stacks of cloth.

Keeping on the path, they were able to make it to the Banther lodge just after sunset, which left them setting up hundreds of tents in the dark. Everyone who was in the medical tent before got transferred into the lodge, as well as Runaan, being kept in a separate room with two guards posted outside of the door,

Corvus didn’t know what King Ezran was going to do about Runaan. Keep him locked in there forever? Execute him? Let him go?

Probably not the last one, he thought to himself as he helped finish setting up another tent, which he seemed to be getting better and better at.

Corvus glanced around at the multitudes of other tents being set up.

He wasn’t going to be getting any sleep tonight. He doubted he would’ve even if they didn’t have to set up the rest of the camp overnight. There was too much on his mind. 

What was the next step after this?

How are we going to rebuild?

Where were they going to rebuild?

All the thoughts of what could come next were jumbled in his head, making it hard to think properly.

“Hey, Corvus!” He turned his head to look at who shouted for him. It was Jayce, one of the other guards.

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re on perimeter watch in two hours.”

Corvus blew out a light breath. “Alright.”

He was definitely not sleeping tonight.

[zeldamomoe]

We survived the Orlando NieR concert hunger games and came out attacked for sure, but satisfied with our mezzanine seats. As much as I'd love to meet Yoko Taro, since I've loved this series with all my heart since I played the PS3 version of NIER in 2015ニーア ゲシュタルト, VIP is just not in the cards at the moment. I'll keep an eye on the site, but I had one in my cart that someone put back earlier on the day of public ticket sales, and then it slipped through my fingers so fast 😭 But who are we seeing there in March??!! I am scared to fly for the first time post-pandemic, especially to FLORIDA 💀 but my friends were like let's go! and we were already planning a trip there, and it's the best concert date, timing wise for work for me. So I couldn't say no lmao. Thank you @shrubbyprincess for securing our tickets! I just ordered a new human Emil cos too because I am outgrowing this beautiful suit that Caroline Krunchy made me a tad bit (Lady Zero and FinalFlick Videos were there first hand to see the pants rip even and that was in 2017 the same year it was made lmao; I blame myself for giving bad measurements) 🤣

📸 my partner Raph, edits by me Emil sash & suit made by @carolinekrunchy Emil staff made by ZomNom Studios Bro Nier is @shrubbyprincess Bro Nier cosplay made by Harv Cosplay Weiss made by Mecchan-chan

[6twisted6gentleman6]

"Nobody gonna show you the way now

Nobody gonna hold your hand no

Nobody gonna lead you the way now

The Devil is fine"

[heyitsme1040]

Connected Through Music [s.r]

summary : Steve takes back the hoodie he'd lent you so he can go to the store. When he gets home, he realizes that you forgot something in his pocket and finds your mp3 player. Out of curiosity, Steve looks through your music and finds a playlist titled with his name.

pairings : Steve Rogers/Reader

warnings : None. This is just purely self-indulgent fluff. The nickname sweetheart is used. There's no use of Y/N, pronouns, or descriptors of the reader. If I did miss anything that should be a warning, please let me know.

word count : 1,600

AO3 (x)

a/n : I've been editing a lot of works in progress the past few months. I keep thinking that they aren't long enough to justify being posted, and have come to the realization they're just fine. Instead of stressing myself out with writing these, I need to enjoy writing them again.

“Sweetheart,” Steve called out from your shared room. “Do you need anything from the store? I’m gonna head out soon.”

“Would you mind grabbing me a new pair of earbuds? I don’t like the wireless ones Tony handed out, and my wired ones only work in a certain position,” you replied while walking out of the bathroom. 

“No problem. Also, I’m taking this back,” the corners of his mouth turned up while he grabbed the hoodie he’d lent you weeks ago that you kept. 

“What? No, don’t steal my hoodie!” You whined.

“Actually, it’s my hoodie,” he chuckled. “I lent you it, and it magically disappeared. I’m merely taking it back.”

You pouted while he pulled the hoodie over his head. As soon as his head reappeared, his eyes softened at the look on your face. He turned to his closet and rummaged around before pulling out a red hoodie.

“Here,” he held the hoodie out to you, “you can steal this one for a while. This one still smells like me.”

You beamed up at him as you took the clothing in your arms and buried your face in it. Inhaling deeply you smelt sandalwood and the ocean. Steve was right, it smelled better to you than the other one had. You were quick to pull it on, loving how soft it felt.

“See? Now we both have a hoodie that smells like the other,” Steve wrapped his arms around you and tucked you into his chest. 

You kissed over where you felt his steady heart beat. You quietly groaned as the alarm on your phone went off. With one final squeeze, you made your way out of Steve’s warm embrace.

“I’ve got to go,” you mumbled. “Nat and Wanda wanted me to meet them in the garage so we could go to the mall.”

“Alright lovely. I hope you three have fun,” Steve kissed your forehead. “There’s supposed to be a new bookstore that opened up not too long ago. I meant to tell you when I found out, but I know you’ll want to look around.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you stood on your toes and kissed his cheek. “Be safe at the store.”

“I promise.” 

Steve watched as you grabbed your purse and made your way out of the apartment. He changed out of the sweatpants he was wearing and tugged on a pair of jeans. Quickly typing what you asked for from the store onto his phone, he did one final walk through the apartment seeing if there was anything he’d forgotten to add onto the list. Satisfied that everything was written down, he slipped his shoes on and grabbed his wallet and keys. 

Finally done picking up the things the two of you needed, Steve slipped his wallet into the pocket of his hoodie and made his way back to the Jeep. Putting the bags in the back and returning his cart Steve began the drive back to the compound. He turned up the radio, listening to whatever station you’d left if on last. Instinctively, he looked to the passenger seat only to find you weren’t there beside him. Steve was grateful you left the radio on your favorite station so he wasn’t entirely without you. 

As he pulled up to the security gate, and showed his S.H.I.E.L.D. badge to go through he let his mind wander to you. He hoped you were able to enjoy yourself at the mall. He couldn’t wait to hear about what you got and did. 

It doesn’t take long to have everything put away. Steve makes sure to place your earbuds on top of your laptop before putting his wallet on the nightstand. When his hand slips into the pocket, he’s met with the feeling of worn leather and cool metal. He puts his wallet down, then reaches back in to see what else was in his pocket. Wrapping his fingers gently around the slender metal object, he pulls out your mp3 player. Your earbuds are wrapped haphazardly around the light blue object, wire exposed in sections. He shook his head at the state of your earbuds, chuckling at how you’d described them earlier compared to what he was seeing. He carefully unwrapped the wire from your beloved device and threw them away. 

He was surprised that you’d forgotten your music player in his hoodie, you usually make sure it was with you. Sure, you had music on your phone, but you preferred your music player. When missions required everyone to shut off their phone and go dark for a period of time, you would still have your music. Letting his curiosity get the best of him, he powered on the device to see what songs you’ve been listening to recently. 

He smoothly navigates from all of your albums to the playlists you’ve made. He’s shocked that as he scrolls past your driving playlist, your training playlist, and your sleep playlist that he suddenly sees one named after himself. He taps the playlist and feels his chest warm at the playlist. It’s a mixture of songs he’d told you he liked before the war, songs he’d said he liked that you showed him, and songs that just reminded you of him. He walked into your shared living room and connected the mp3 player to the speakers in the room and pressed play. 

As the music began to quietly drift its way through your shared home, Steve heard you opening the door. 

“Babe! I’m home,” you called out in a huff.

Steve made his way to your voice, finding you in the kitchen. You had some bags on the counter and were putting something in the fridge. Steve stepped up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. You quickly leaned back into his chest while closing the fridge. 

“How was the store?” You asked, fully relaxing into his hold.

“It was fine. Did you have a good time?” Steve swayed the two of you to the music he could still hear from the other room.

You nodded, turning to face him, “I did, but I’d rather be home with you.”

Steve hummed his agreement while leaning down to capture your lips with his own. “I missed you,too. C’mon I want to hear all about your shopping adventures.”

“I found the bookstore you mentioned. It’s a small one, but really nice. We mainly walked through the stores browsing. I did pick up a few clothes, and a new pair of trainers for the gym. For the most part we just chatted while we got lunch,” you shrugged. “What about you?”

“The store wasn’t as busy as I expected it to be. I picked up what we needed and found some stuff to make my mom’s casserole one night this week. I took our Jeep instead of my bike since we needed some more things than usual, then I came home and put everything away. And when I got home you know what I found?” 

“What?” You murmur against his lips, resting your foreheads together.

“You forgot your music player in my hoodie,” he began. “And I couldn’t help but chuckle at how worn your earbuds were. So I got rid of them, after I put your new ones on your laptop. I was curious what you were listening to so I looked. And I happened to find a particular playlist named after me.”

You couldn’t fight the blush that dusted your cheeks, burying your face into his neck. Steve picked you up and set you on the counter. Gently prying your face away from him, he stood between your legs making your eyes meet his. 

“Don’t be embarrassed Sweetheart,” he cupped your cheek. “It was sweet. The thought of you being reminded of me while listening to music, you humming along to these songs when I can’t be around. It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. I know you made it for yourself, but just finding out that I’m on your mind as often as you’re on mine melts my heart. When I was driving back the radio was on that station you love, and I looked over expecting to see you there. You weren’t, but it felt like you were,” you leaned into his palm at the touching words. “How’d I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

You shook your head while letting a sheepish smile grace your lips, “Well if that’s the case I guess it’s a good thing I got you a surprise.” 

“Sweetheart, you didn’t have–”

“I know, but I wanted to. I saw it and thought it’d be a good idea for you, too,” you gesture to one of the bags. 

Steve plucks it up from the counter and hands it to you. You place one hand over his eyes, making him laugh, and use the other to pull out the small box. You pull your hand away, pleased to see he had them closed. You tugged his hand up and set the box into his hold. 

“Okay, open!” You gleefully prompt him. 

Steve’s eyes land on the box, and quickly recognizes a silver version of the mp3 player he’d found in his pocket earlier. “Baby, you didn’t have to. Seriously. Thank you, so much,” he tenderly kissed your lips. 

“We can both enjoy our music, whenever we want to. Stay connected through it when the other isn’t able to be here,” you gently promised, holding his hand.

Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

[dbarn]

Lithograph reportedly available at D23:

Separate pictures attached below in case the link doesn't work.

There's a lot going on here.

Some familiar characters -- Check out Clawhauser's off-duty look! Yax and Flash (naturally) bringing up the rear! The Hopps family is represented! -- as well as new ones, including a very prominent role to a big, blue snake. (A possible antagonist? Hard to tell with reptiles. Looks like he's smiling, though.)

Is that Finnick in the stroller, wearing a bunny onesie? And holding... uh... we'll just assume that's a carrot-shaped pacifier for now.

Oh! And don't forget the food cart near the top -- what looks like a reference to Bug-Burga, often seen in fanfic but not mentioned in the first movie.

Some closeups follow.

Chief Bogo and what could be a member of the TUSK team (or maybe just a boar in tactical gear).

Looks like there's a chameleon in a Men in Black-style outfit hitching a ride on Bogo's arm. EDIT: wait, I just got it! Chameleons are providing security for the Zootennial parade because they'd be great at covert operations!

There's also a seal, a beaver, a bear on a unicycle... okay, maybe that'll make sense in time.

What looks like:

One of Mr. Big's polar bear bodyguards (Koslov? Kevin? Raymond?)

A lot of wildebeests(?) forming a parade for the "Zootennial"

Gazelle being held aloft by her tiger dancers

The walrus plumber from the diorama

A cat on a motorcycle... huh. Too early to draw conclusions yet, but I'm kind of hoping that's a regular domestic cat, which hasn't been seen in any canonical stuff so far that I'm aware of.

And, of course, Nick and Judy in their new outfits, driving... a hog rod. (I wonder if Nick even has a driver's license -- Judy was driving the cruiser at the end of Zootopia too.)

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Sketchbook Week Day 4 - Dreaming of Bumping Into You (Chapter 1)

Summary: When Johanna is woken up in the middle of the night by a strange phone call, she knows she has to ask Kaisa what is happening. She just doesn’t know which is more concerning; whether it’s the words being said or the way her best friend sounds while she’s delivering them

Notes: Written for @sketchbookweek Day 4 - Secrets

Cw: mentions of drug/alcohol use. Nobody actually uses either, they’re just fucking stupid

Listen, with the amount of songs I make sketchbook edits to in my head, I have no idea why I decided to write fanfic inspired by Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High, but when the inspiration strikes you can’t argue with it yk

Read it on ao3

“Arch sorceress Pilqvist is a disloyal, unreasonable woman. It is beyond me how she has reached such a high standing inside our order when her skull is so thick I hardly think hurling a crystal ball at it would even hurt!”

Kaisa took a deep breath. The very woman who was being slandered right in front of her had taught her that filling your lungs with air was the best thing you could do when you wanted to lash out. Not that it made the anger go away, not at all. But at least it made it so one couldn't get any impulsive words out, at least not until after one big exhale. After which you could always inhale again and stop yourself from getting cursed, punched, fired, or in her current case, probably all at once.

“Tell me again how you think insulting my mentor is going to make me help you, Ingrid.”

Her voice had been calm. Slow. The appropriate tone for a library, which, even though her boss seemed to have forgotten, they were inside at the moment. Yet the witch immediately looked angry, the red that had been steadily rising on her neck reaching her sharp cheekbones.

“You must!” She shot, glaring at how Kaisa kept her demeanour purposefully disinterested, eyelids heavy and shoulders slumped over the library cart she was walking around with for reshelving purposes. Ingrid didn’t quite like how the librarian made her follow around while she did her duty either, but that was their bad for only hiring one person for that entire building. “Matilda is the only witch who ever managed to create a spell like that with so little side effects. With the amount of trolls walking around town these days, we need it more than ever! Witchkind’s safety is at stake!”

The librarian rolled her eyes, though she didn’t think the other witch saw it. Recent… changes brought to the town by Frida and her friends had made it increasingly easy to tell apart the bigoted ones amongst them all. No matter how little interest trolls seemed to have on witchcraft and its practitioners, there were still some witches who insisted that just because their magics didn’t mix, that they shouldn’t coexist.

Which was just as bullshit as it sounded.

The Committee had called upon Tildy one day, and she’d even showed up much to everyone’s surprise. They’d explained their worries, which meant that five minutes in it wasn’t a meeting anymore, but a sass session for the older woman to make them realise how stupid they sounded. They didn’t, of course, which only meant Tildy refused to give them her prized protection spell and they didn’t give up on their quest to secure it. Leaving Kaisa in her current position.

“It’s her spell.” Kaisa said as she parked her cart between two shelves and began looking for the correct place for an eighteenth century poetry book. Her opinions on the matter were exactly like her former master’s, of course. She hadn’t witnessed Hilda show off her shifting powers like a party trick when she dined at her house just to turn around and say that trolls were dangerous. But if Tildy hadn’t come through to them, great at turning people to her side as she was, then Kaisa wasn’t going to be the one to make them see the other side of things. Besides, she was tired. The last thing she wanted was to begin a moral argument in the final leg of her already tiring work day.

There was also the issue that she didn’t actually know that spell, but hey, she didn’t need to admit that to the people that employed her, did she?

“I’m not going to spill it if she didn’t want you to have it. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to look somewhere else.” She finished, not sorry in the least but trying to keep some semblance of politeness.

Ingrid twisted her lips like she’d tasted something sour. The truth, probably. Or her own stupidity. She ran a hand through her short blonde hair to make it fall back into place.

“Hm. Lineage secret, is it?”

Nah. It was a protection spell. Tildy would probably give it to anyone who asked her nicely, if they didn’t want it for idiotic and prejudiced reasons. She’d likely made Kaisa learn it at some point, but gods knew she’d long since forgotten it.

“Yes.” She lied. “Of the utmost secrecy.”

Ingrid hummed again, and Kaisa thought she got a chill in her spine when she did so. It got draughty in the library during that time of the day, she supposed. “I see.” She said in a whisper. “I suppose I’ll just have to find it… someplace else.”

The other woman walked away, all of Kaisa’s discomfort disappearing alongside her. She breathed a sigh of relief at no longer having Ingrid’s analysing stare locked on her face like it had been for the entire conversation, finally free to listen to her songs as she worked.

For some reason, though, she still felt eyes on her all the while until she finished for the day. No matter how many times she looked behind herself, she still saw nothing, so she figured it must be the lingering unease at having been so close to one of the Committee’s most unpleasant witches (she and her sister were almost tied in Kaisa’s listing, but Abigail still took the crown for that whole Void business). Kaisa let the music blast through her headphones, getting lost in it as an antidote for those moments of stress and whispering along to the lyrics.

”The mirror’s image tells me it’s home time…”

…......

A couple years before, when Hilda (whose name she did not know at the time, of course, but a blue haired girl is hard to miss even at such a large library) began showing up to ask for books and advice, so did her mother. It took them an embarrassingly long time to realise that Kaisa was the librarian who Hilda always talked about and that Johanna was the mother the girl mentioned when they were together, but once they did, it took the two women no time to bond over their fondness for the girl and her group of friends, over their routines, their tastes and struggles. After Johanna had made her promise to never again give her daughter any dangerous magical devices, that was.

They had become, at the very least, friends. And Kaisa thought that with no small amount of weight to that statement, because she really couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so sure she could call someone that. But there was a line, you see. Most friendships didn’t have that line, that boundary just within eyesight that they were sure that once it was crossed, it would no longer be a platonic friendship but a romance. Most friendships didn’t have it, because when friends trusted that that’s what they were, and that was how they would be free to express the extent of their love to its fullest, then all you can see, all around you, is that friendship, as far as you can reach.

Not them, though. Both of them were very aware of that border, well aware that their love for one another was extremely capable of taking another shape, one that would actually let them breathe freely and satiate the longing inside them.

There was a line. They were aware of the line. And they kept tip-toeing on it and jumping back each time. Scared of what would happen if they crossed it. Scared of what the other would think.

Personally, Kaisa would love to rip the blasted line out of the ground and use it as something more interesting. An aisle for one of them to walk towards the other on, for example. She’d had quite enough of catching herself sighing yearningly at the window on sunny days and squealing when her phone pinged with a message from her. And that was to say nothing of the embarrassing (-ly frequent) daydreams. She felt she’d had quite enough of pining being a woman almost in her thirties.

The thing was, taking the first step wasn’t something Kaisa was willing to do. Not right now, at least. Johanna might only be a couple of years older than her, but she felt like the woman was aeons ahead of her. She was mature and well resolved, independent and capable of taking care of herself, her daughter, and however many magical creatures there currently were in her house. How could Kaisa, in all sincerity, offer herself up for a woman like that in her current state, knowing she’d end up as nothing more than another source of trouble for her?

No. Kaisa was willing to wait. She rather thought Johanna was too, judging by how that line kept being played with. They’d get to crossing it, well and properly. But first, she wanted to get a little closer to being the person she thought Johanna deserved. A little braver. A little more put together. A little less worried about what people who didn’t give a single damn about her well being thought of her. And she was making progress, she really was. But until then, that uneasy friendship would be more than enough. She’d take it and be grateful it was even being offered, making sure to show her appreciation for Johanna’s presence in her life every single day.

Which was why when the woman showed up at the library that morning, wringing her hands together in anxiety and with a frown between her eyebrows, Kaisa immediately dropped what she’d been doing to go talk to her.

“Hey, Anna, good morning.” She greeted in a soft tone of voice, making her startle slightly upon noticing Kaisa’s presence. The librarian had approached her from behind, but even so she thought the behaviour was slightly off. She was never this jumpy, was she? “Everything alright?”

There were a couple of moments when Kaisa genuinely wondered if she was talking to the wrong person. Maybe there was some bizarrely accurate Johanna lookalike in town now and she just hadn’t been aware. The point was, a full twenty seconds must have passed in which Johanna said and did nothing other than stare at Kaisa with that same frown she’d walked in with.

“Johanna?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” She answered at last, but her voice didn’t sound at all certain. “I’m… it’s alright. Thank you for asking. But what about you?”

Kaisa quirked an eyebrow. As soon as Johanna had been broken out of her unexpected stupor, she’d begun leading them to the library’s break room, where the workers could go should they need some water, coffee, or just to sit down and not to interact with people for a bit. So essentially Kaisa’s personal personal winding down and chugging coffee corner. They’d been there many times before, chatting until after the library’s closing hours about anything at all. However, when Kaisa was about to sit down on one of the ancient armchairs, she turned back to see that Johanna was still standing by the doorway, looking at her feet and shifting her weight between them.

“Is it okay if we stay out here?”

Her lifted eyebrow melted into a frown as Kaisa walked out of the break room again.

“Well, sure we can, but what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Johanna said, too quickly. “We’re okay, I promise. I just popped by to ask you if you were fine.”

Kaisa’s heart did a flip inside her chest. Which was very uncomfortable, considering a structure tied to so many vases wasn’t supposed to be moving around much at all. The words sounded reassuring, but they hit her as anything but. When she saw Johanna walk in like that, she’d assumed something had happened and that she could help, even if only by listening to her. Now the thought at the forefront of her mind was that she’d messed up somehow. Because she hadn’t even considered that they might not be fine, but now she sure as hell was doing it.

“What, me? Sure I am.” She closed the break room door behind herself, figuring that if the idea of going in there made Johanna uncomfortable she should eliminate the possibility altogether. “I mean, I am normal. I woke up at the normal time and came to my normal job that I do every day. Little pissed that I just had to ask a group of teenagers to be quiet, but that’s it. I’m not sure I understand your question.”

Johanna still wouldn’t look at her, which was off putting. Kaisa was the one who liked to look away when they talked, only because it made it easier for her to concentrate on the conversation, but she could always feel Johanna’s eyes on her. This time, Kaisa actively tried to catch her gaze, wondering if looking at her eyes would give her any explanations to the way she was acting, but without success.

The woman cleared her throat. “It’s just… last night, when you called me. You sounded a little… out of it. And I wanted to check that you were fine and safe.”

Kaisa blinked. Stared at her. Continued staring at her until Johanna finally looked at her face and saw her own confusion reflected back. She looked a little embarrassed, a light pink colour painting her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

“I didn’t call you.”

“What?”

“Johanna, I didn’t call you. As far as I’m concerned, the last time we talked was when we went to the bake shop two days ago. When was this call?”

Now, the librarian wasn’t trying to gaslight her. She didn’t think Johanna was crazy, much less a liar. But neither was Kaisa an amnesiac, so she’d probably remember calling the woman she was head over heels for; there had to be a logical explanation for this.

“Roughly at three in the morning, I think.” Johanna answered, looking uncertain in the face of Kaisa’s conviction even though she sounded actually sure of the time she was informing. Kaisa snorted.

“Well, I have no idea who that was, but I can assure you you’re not looking at them.”

“But it was your voice.”

“Anna, I go to sleep at nine thirty and wake up at six. I do that religiously, because otherwise I become a massive bitch come morning.”

“Well-” Johanna looked like she was getting uncomfortable in a different way now, being put in the spot like that. Kaisa softened. She’d assumed that assuring her that she wasn’t responsible for whatever that was would make the situation easier on her. But come think of it, being phoned by a stranger that could pass as one of your closest friends couldn’t be too soothing either. “I thought you might not remember because, well, you sounded-”

Kaisa nodded for her to go on once she looked insecure about whether she should finish that sentence. Johanna did so with a whisper.

“Affected?”

Johanna looked at her expectantly, making Kaisa feel bad that she could offer her nothing other than even more confusion. She’d need to make herself more clear if she wanted anything out of the witch.

“Sorry, affected by…?”

“Well-” Johanna rubbed her neck, looking around them, and the ceiling, down again. Everywhere but at Kaisa. “I don’t know. Alcohol. Drugs. Something like that. Not that I’m judging!” She put her hands in front of herself immediately, and if she took the chance to really take in Kaisa’s face she’d see how that possibility was even weirder to her than it was to Johanna. “But I was just worried about how you might be. So. Yeah.”

Kaisa wanted to be helpful. She really did. But Johanna had just asked someone whose ideas of reckless behaviour ranged from waking up the dead to skipping dinner to eat jorts, and nowhere in that spectrum was partying hard and using any sort of substance. It was hard to even take her worry over her seriously, which was a shame, since under any other circumstances Kaisa would have been over the moon with such a treatment.

“Johanna. Look at me.” She did. “Under what circumstances can you imagine me getting high at three a.m.?”

It was her right arm instead of her neck that she rubbed in anxiety this time. “Well, none, but-”

They stared at each other, Johanna with an anxious look and Kaisa with a compassionate one. Eventually, she sighed.

“You’re right. It must have been a dream.” Her shoulders slumped. “Oh, gosh, this is so embarrassing. I’m sorry, Kaisa.”

Her friend laughed, glad that apparently there wasn’t even a problem to be solved. Maybe now they could have their coffee and some regular chatting.

“Don’t stress about it. I should be flattered you’re dreaming about me.”

Kaisa walked back into the break room, heading straight to the coffee machine to brew a new batch. In doing so, she failed to notice how Johanna still lingered by the doorframe, watching her for any signs of untruthfulness or discomfort.

Through gritted teeth, the woman whispered to her own ears only. “You have no idea…”

…......

Kaisa got deja vu often. She supposed it was a mix of her brain loving to make associations and the fact that all witches had some future telling abilities, even if hers were quite weak, so she supposed there were some things in her life that she had seen before, even if at the back of her mind, a simple suggestion made by that more magical part of her consciousness.

That particular image, however, she was very sure she had seen before, and when, and where. It had been at that same place, at the same time, the very day before.

This morning, however, when Johanna spotted her, she clutched her purse strap closer to herself, making Kaisa halt her approach. She only ever did that when she was scared.

Was she scared of… Kaisa?

The thought hit her like a knife between her shoulder blades, but she still put on a smile for her. She didn’t get any closer, though. It was best to let Johanna approach her.

She didn’t. She stood there, two metres away like she was talking to a stranger. The knife twisted inside her.

“It happened again.” She said, sounding surer than she had the day before. “I was awake. I checked. Nothing happened when I pinched myself and my fingers and clocks looked normal. I wrote a note saying it was real and it was still there when I woke up this morning.”

Kaisa sighed. “Anna, I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t call you. I certainly didn’t get drunk, or high. It must have been a prank of some sort.”

Johanna’s mouth twisted, like she was trying to bite something back. “Yes. It must have been.”

The witch dared to take a step forward; only one, though, because Johanna immediately tensed. Someone else might not have noticed it, but Kaisa couldn’t not.

“Are you… angry at me, Anna?”

Her voice was harsher than Kaisa had ever heard it before when she answered. “No. Why would I be angry at you for something you didn’t do?”

“I have no idea, but you sure as hell sound like it right now.”

“Why do you look tired?” Johanna snapped, shoulders squared back though the displeasure at acting like that was written clearly on her face. Kaisa gaped.

“Because I am borderline anaemic and wake up every day at six, maybe? You can’t really be mad at me right now, Anna. I know it must be weird to be prank called in the middle of the night and everything, not to mention whatever the hell they’re telling you to get you this worked up, but I didn’t do anything!”

Her stare grew harder, those brown eyes suddenly reminding her solid mountains, peaks so high one couldn’t ever hope to reach. But then moisture began to gather at the corners, and Johanna looked down quickly. Just not quickly enough for Kaisa to not have seen it.

“You never do, do you?” She whispered and walked quickly out of the library, leaving a befuddled librarian behind herself.

…......

One of the things Johanna missed the most about living out in the wilderness was the quiet. Since they’d moved to Trolberg, she’d hardly ever managed to have a single night’s sleep that was as peaceful as when the only sounds that could be heard during the night were of the owls and cicadas, the forest’s own little lullaby for its only two human inhabitants to hear. It wasn’t like Trolberg was some big metropolis where they were subjected to the noise of traffic jams and drunken yelling in the early hours of the morning, of course. But it wasn’t the same. There was always an odd motorcycle, or the footsteps of their upstairs neighbour, the sound of a television when someone in their building turned to it after having trouble sleeping.

And, for the past two nights, there had been the blasted ringing of their landline.

The first time, she’d found it beyond weird. Nobody ever called them at that time of the day (well, night). But the phone would have kept ringing had she not picked up, and she didn’t want it to disturb Hilda. So Johanna had dragged herself out of bed, mumbling and rubbing at her eyes, and walked to the kitchen to simply tell whoever was at the other side of the line that they had the wrong number and hang up.

It didn’t go like that, however. Because as soon as her ear was on the speaker, a voice she knew slurred her name.

“Kaisa?!” She’d whispered with urgency, figuring from the time of the call and from her clearly subdued voice that something was wrong. “What’s the matter?”

She hadn’t answered for a couple of seconds, but Johanna knew she was still there. She could hear her breathing.

“I’m in love with you.” Kaisa sighed eventually, in a dreamy voice. “That’s the matter.”

Since the whole point of picking that call at all was not waking Hilda up, Johanna had to make a lot of effort to be silent when she choked on air at that statement. Her face heated up immediately and she gripped the phone’s handle, looking around herself to make sure there was no one near and listening. As if that would help. If either Tontu or Alfur really wanted to listen in, there would really be nothing she’d be able to do about it.

That was not how she’d imagined this conversation going.

“What?” She whispered into the microphone. “Kaisa, that’s lovely-” She mentally slapped herself. What kind of reaction to ‘I’m in love with you’ was that? Kaisa deserved better. But then, Johanna had also thought she deserved at least a face to face confession, though she should probably consider herself lucky to be getting one at all. “- but why are you telling me this right now?”

“I can’t tell you this.” Kaisa continued, which Johanna hardly thought could be considered an answer to her question. Her voice was distant, the cadence unlike it had been in any of the times they’d been together previously. Still, Johanna knew it to be her voice. She’d recognize it anywhere. “I can’t tell you that I want you close at all times. I can’t tell you that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. I can’t even tell you I want to know everything about you. Because I’m not… not ready. You deserve someone better than me, and I’m not ready.”

Her tone wasn’t emotional. For all that she was saying, she didn’t sound like she was making a confession, but like she was listing facts. Johanna was sure her face must be completely red at that point, her heart picking up a speed she wasn’t entirely sure was healthy. She still had just enough reason to be able to tell that none of that sounded normal.

“Kaisa, love, tell me what’s going on.” She urged. They’d hung out not a full 48 hours before. Kaisa had been acting normally around her and showing no signs of wanting to confess an avalanche of deeply buried feelings. Something had to have happened.

“I know it’s selfish of me, but I want to be with you anyway.” Another string of words that sounded like they barely had any thought given to them as they were pushed out of Kaisa’s mouth. It wasn’t an answer. The witch had probably not even heard her. “I want to wake up with you and cook with you and come home to you at the end of the day-”

Oh, gods.

“I want to be someone you can call yours-”

Kaisa was high, wasn’t she?

“Kaisa, where are you?” Johanna attempted once more, even though the confessions didn’t stop coming from the other end of the line. “Do you need to be picked up? Are you safe? Are you home?”

Nothing. Well, not nothing. A lot, really, but only a lot of sappy feelings that had nothing to do with Kaisa’s current state at all.

It must have gone on for half an hour. Johanna didn’t know how to make her stop, and figured that at least she knew Kaisa was fine as long as she was speaking to her on her phone. There was of course also the fact that she’d waited for so long to hear those things that she was too selfish to hang up now, even if these were far from the circumstances she would have preferred. After she’d seemed to run out of things to say, Kaisa asked in just as distant of a voice.

“What do you think?”

Johanna took a deep breath. She’d sat down on the floor at some point, the landline’s cable extended to allow her to do so.

“I think you need to rest, my dear.” She uttered softly, still worried. “We can talk about it when you’re better.”

The line went silent. Kaisa had hung up.

Johanna still sat there, cradling the phone’s handle and looking straight ahead with an unfocused case for a few more minutes. She had no idea how to process what had just happened. Kaisa had just said everything Johanna could have asked for in her most self centred fantasies, and more. But she didn’t feel ecstatic like she should. She felt hollow. Because of the context, she felt foolish, even. That night, she’d gone to bed and her only thought had been ‘what now?’

But then she’d showed up at the library, and Kaisa had acted exactly as she would have any other day. Like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t gotten high as a kite and declared her undying love in the dead of night. And she’d been so sure of it too, without any signs of any unusual activities the night before, even. Johanna had let herself be convinced it was only a dream. That would have made sense, right? Only in dreams did people’s crushes confess to them like they were writing a love letter. In Johanna’s case, only in dreams did people confess to her at all. She should have known better.

Except it had happened again the night after that. Johanna had made sure to check everything that could give away that she was dreaming, but everything around her looked perfectly… real. Except for Kaisa. Her voice drifting from the phone, saying how much she craved to have her near, couldn’t possibly belong to reality. And yet, it did.

Not that any of it had helped matters when she’d come to talk to Kaisa about it. Depending on what substance she’d been on, it would have made sense for her to forget what had happened. That wasn’t the issue here; had it all been handled differently, Johanna should have been happy to wait for as long as the witch needed for her to actually admit her feelings. But all she’d been met with was vehement denial. Maybe she was ashamed, but going so far as to imply that Johanna was wrong, or lying? Implying that it could be a random prankster had her at the end of her rope. As if Johanna could ever mistake Kaisa’s voice for anyone else’s. At that point it was as entangled in her mind as the sounds of the forest or of her pencil on sheets of paper.

All of that only allowed her to arrive at one conclusion. That it was deliberate.

For the third night straight, Johanna forced her legs to take her to the kitchen. Her head hurt; it had been difficult to fall asleep again after the calls, leaving her exhausted physically as well as emotionally. She hoped it would be something different this time. That maybe Kaisa had come to her senses and would admit that she was drunk, or high, or just plain sorry.

She hoped for anything other than what she got.

“I’ve fallen for you harder than I thought I could. I didn’t know I could like someone this much.”

Johanna groaned. Groaned. Because somehow her biggest dream had turned into a nightmare in the matter of three days. Was loving her such an embarrassing thing that it could only be mentioned in the dead of night? No, that wouldn’t make sense. Kaisa would at least act coy if that was the case, give her the slightest indication that she did mean what she’d said or that she even remembered what she’d said. For her to sound like that, to say all that, and to vehemently deny it only left Johanna with one conclusion.

For two nights, she’d withstood that. It had to be some sort of joke, and a cruel one at that. To force her to hear everything she wanted, only to see that it changed nothing come daylight. It was torture. And it was clever. Clever because it hit exactly where it hurt, because it would drive Johanna insane while leaving Kaisa safe in her bubble of plausible deniability. All that was left to assume was that Kaisa had actually found out that Johanna had feelings for her and was using it to make fun of her. Maybe she wouldn’t do it when she had full control of herself, but apparently whatever she was using to make her sound like that made the allure of the prank too sweet for her. And then, come morning, she must remember it and deny ever using anything at all, either because she knew what she was capable of under the influence or because she was well aware of the game she was playing and wanted to continue at it.

It was a joke, and Johanna was at the butt of it. She had to remind herself of this. Because otherwise, she’d never have been able to finally, on that third night, hang up on Kaisa while she uttered the most lovely words Johanna had ever heard.

…......

Everything had changed since the last time they’d talked. Johanna didn’t invite her out anymore. She didn’t stop by the library to see her ‘just because’. She didn’t go anywhere Kaisa frequented at all, at least not while she was there. She didn’t even answer her texts or pick up her phone. And the worst part was, Kaisa didn’t even know what she’d done. She knew she needn’t worry for the other woman, since the trio was at the library often and that gave Kaisa a chance to ask Hilda about her mother. Given that the girl had taken to glaring at her before saying Johanna was fine, thank you very much, she was left to believe she must have screwed up somehow, even if she couldn’t figure it out.

She’d resisted all of two weeks under these circumstances before she’d caved. Her mind screamed at her that she was being stupid all the while her feet were taking her to the apartment complex where she’d spent so many enjoyable evenings drinking tea and giggling over nothing, but she ignored it. Johanna should be the one to reach out to her and tell her what she’d done to deserve being ghosted like that, should look at her in the eyes and tell her how Kaisa could be better for her. But she hadn’t done so, and Kaisa couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted her best friend. And if that meant swallowing her fear and her pride, well. She’d been the one to screw up in the first place, hadn’t she?

Probably.

At least she’d resisted the urge to buy flowers before heading there. The art of toeing the blasted line lied at the mixed messages peppered in every gesture that could be interpreted as romantic, and she rather didn’t think there’d be anything mixed or up to interpretation about giving another woman a bouquet of white roses.

Kaisa knocked on her door, knowing that the woman must be home since it was still early enough for her to have interrupted her self-imposed work hours. She’d managed to sneak away from the library earlier than usual precisely for that reason, even if Johanna didn’t go out much either way. Her voice came from the other side, a soft ‘coming!’ muffled by the wall between them. When the door was opened. Johanna was wearing a carefully crafted serene expression. Which melted away immediately at the sight of Kaisa.

To the witch’s absolute horror, Johanna stepped away from her.

“Oh.” She breathed, her voice guarded. “It’s you.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?, she wanted to scream. Instead, she frowned and nodded. “Yes. Hi, Anna.”

“What do you want?” Johanna snapped, crossing her arms. She didn’t sound or look pissed, though, only sad and even scared as she looked at Kaisa’s feet rather than her face. And tired. Very tired.

So was Kaisa, if she was honest. She hadn’t woken up feeling truly rested in weeks.

“Well-” Kaisa struggled for something to say. Johanna had always been the more well spoken between the two of them. She’d truly thought that she’d arrive here and only have to listen to her explain what was going on. Having to actually voice anything hadn’t been part of her plan. “Isn’t it obvious?”

The woman’s face snapped to her at that, anger in her eyes. Kaisa had never seen her like this. But then, she supposed, she’d never hurt the woman before either.

“If you’re going to tell me the same thing as the last times, just give up.” She stated, making sure her shoulders were set back, voice a lot less unwavering than she would have liked. “I’m not going to let you treat me like this.”

Kaisa gaped at her. “Wait.” She lifted a hand, suddenly feeling anger rise up in her own chest. “This is still about the prank calls you’ve been getting?”

No matter how strongly Kaisa felt she was the one who should be offended here, Johanna’s furrowed brows and pursed lips told her very clearly how affronted she was that Kaisa would have the gall to react the way she did.

“Stop it. I won’t hear you out if you’re only going to lie either. You should be going.”

“Yes, I really should, shouldn’t I?” Kaisa snapped, surprising both of them with the fire in her voice. She truly wasn’t able to help it in the face of Johanna’s coldness. For her friend - and calling her that now felt like a mockery to what they had - to toss her away like that without even hearing her out, she could only have been looking for a reason to fight with her. Just waiting for an excuse to get rid of the witch. Well, Kaisa wasn’t about to get in her way.

She turned her back to her and walked back the way she came with all the certainty she didn’t feel, letting the hurt drive her away. She’d thought Johanna was the better one between the two of them. She thought that she’d at least have been given a reason, an explanation, or a proper conversation instead of just being accused over nothing for the woman to justify throwing their friendship away to herself. Didn’t matter, though. Not anymore.

The sound of her shoes on the building’s staircase was loud as she stomped away. Loud enough to drown out the sound of Johanna’s sniffles.

…......

The phone rang, like it always did, at three in the morning. The headache that had been her companion for many days now screamed at the sound. Johanna was already awake, of course. Her body had developed some sort of pavlovian response and she now always woke up exactly at 2:55 a.m., anxious about her daughter being startled out of her slumber by the ringing.

She got up from the couch wearily, and picked it up. After a couple of seconds of looking at it, she actually brought it to her ears. After the third time, she’d taken to leaving it on the counter for about half an hour, before placing it back onto the hook. It wasn’t like Kaisa was ever interested in what she had to say, anyway, so it didn’t really matter, and Johanna was afraid she’d ring again if she just hung up on her. But she’d actually showed up that afternoon. Hadn’t acknowledged what she’d been doing, sure, hadn’t apologised or offered a semblance of an explanation. She’d even yelled at her, considering the standard low volume that her voice usually had. But maybe that meant she was willing to rethink, willing to maybe take a step back and undo this mess. Maybe she’d come to her senses at last, maybe she’d stopped using whatever had been making her act like that.

With foolish hope, Johanna dared to listen to her voice one last time.

“Hi, Johanna.” Said the dreamy, far away voice. So not sober, then. “I love you. Every time you smile at me I feel like I’m flying-”

She wanted to scream. Nothing had changed. Nothing would change. And Johanna was exhausted, from this dance, from this heartbreak, from not knowing when was the last time she had slept peacefully without being woken up by this blatant and cruel ridicule.

She listened. Johanna actually was pathetic enough to listen to twenty more minutes of Kaisa saying exactly how she felt every time they were together, because she wasn’t sure she’d ever hear that voice again. And when she could finally bring herself to, she put the phone handle on the kitchen counter, and opened one of the kitchen drawers.

The scissors were exactly where she always left them. They were only ever used to open up food packages, but that didn’t matter. They managed to cut the landline’s cable just fine.

…......

It had been a long time coming. Truly, what had led her to believe a woman as lovely as Johanna would want to give her the time of the day? Maybe she’d enjoyed it for a couple of months. She might have only been doing it to be charitable, making an awkward loner like Kaisa feel like she had someone to rely on. But it hadn’t lasted, because how could it? Kaisa was who she was, and nobody could stand her for long. Eventually, people realised they couldn’t change her. They realised she was too annoying, too boring, too offputting to stand. And if Johanna had chosen that way to break them off, did she really have the right to be angry? She’d probably been giving her signs she didn’t want Kaisa nearby for ages, but Kaisa never took a hint, did she?

It made sense, now. Johanna didn’t blush when Kaisa complimented her because she liked it. It was because she made her uncomfortable. Her eyes didn’t widen when Kaisa asked her out because she was pleased. She’d merely been caught without an excuse to refuse. She didn’t tease Kaisa about her quirks because she found them charming. They were either attempts at getting her to change her habits or straight up jabs, hidden behind sweet words and a honeyed voice.

There was no line. There had never been a line. Kaisa was just delusional and pushing for something she’d never have. Kaisa was unlovable. She knew she was unlovable, and had accepted that a long time ago. It was her own fault for letting gentle touches and soft spoken affirmations convince her otherwise, her own fault for being so utterly incapable of making alright decisions, her own fault for only ever having bad ideas.

Gods, she was drained.

[keithhoward]

Almost a year has passed since that day.

The day Bandit Keith and Mokuba Kaiba faced off against each other in quest of the newest September limited edition Capsule Monster. Mokuba recalls that day like it was just yesterday, like the haunting memory of it never truly left him.

The bitterness, anguish, anger of it all. The fighting, gaslighting, manipulating. And for what? A crushed, useless box. A worthless Capsule Monster.

(It has never been that deep, really.)

Now, every mention of the man leaves Mokuba feeling restless, as though something's missing. Like he isn't quite finished with that man just yet.

...like he seeks revenge.

And so, Mokuba finally stands before Bandit Keith once more, having gotten the KC security to retrieve him. As long as this bitter memory remains part of Mokuba, he'll never be able to truly be at peace. As ordered by the child, the man is tied to a chair, blindfolded. When he seems to regain consciousness, Mokuba removes the blindfold.

This ends here, once and for all. Bandit Keith will never mess with a Kaiba again.

"You must know why you're here."

There he was, just minding his own business, walking down the street without a care and none the wiser to the suits trailing behind him. The day was actually pretty nice- that should have been his first tip that something was off.

He'd attribute it to being caught off guard, but it didn't take much or long to knock him out, get him in the back of the limo, cart him off to god knows where for this fateful confrontation...

When he finally started to stir, the blindfold was thankfully removed, leaving Keith blinking the blurriness out of his eyes and trying to focus on just what, or who, was in front of him now, and trying to parse the speech directed at him through his ringing, aching head. Finally, after a minute, he mustered out in response:

"Whghdgh- guh?"

[zebee-nyx]

CalmWriMo Day 18

[11/18/2023]

Update!

Cozy day at home. Feels like it's been forever since I've had a light day like this to just chill out. Honestly spent more time than I prob should've just listening to youtube and playing minecraft for the first time in awhile. ('0.0) But also worked on writing stuff! So the day wasn't entirely lost to my gaming addiction lol. Did some more character interview things, cause at this point it's fun and helps me figure out the characters! Also did some work on the prologue, but agh, def not getting it done this weekend. It is mostly drafted aside from one weird gap in the middle that I need to plug with a paragraph. (-.-) Going to do that tmr then take a break from that for a week to freshen the mind a touch before going back and doing editing and what not. In the mean time gonna start the drafting for the first part of the story! Which is a mix of exciting and harrowing. [got no idea what I'm doing aside from a vaguely outlined plan lol, way more adjusted to worldbuilding and characters than I am on plot stuff…. Something I need to work on but know the most common way of learning is to completely flub it and I really don’t want to flub it lol… rambling, sorry!]

Progress:

2 Hour Writing Goal: ✅

Blurb: [see below]

Self Care:

Food: ✅

Hydration: ✅

Sleep: ❌[somehow managed to fall asleep while reading a webtoon... half woke up about an hour later to finish reading before actually getting to sleep lol]

Reading: ✅

Blurb: The Undercity

The "Undercity" is the term used to describe the more densely populated and neglected sectors of Neocago City. These regions are mostly located around the southern and outer western parts of the city. Aside from a few scattered and walled off corporate run neighborhoods surrounding factories and other corporate properties the undercity is a lawless place. Buildings are fused as they were haphazardly built atop one another in a completely unplanned way to accommodate rapid unfettered urbanization over the last few decades. Many of these buildings have prefabricated rooms at their core that have been buried by whatever construction materials were available.

Roofed alleyways are covered in trash that will never be collected. The pathways between buildings are almost always wet from a mix of rainwater and water from leaky pipes draining through the various layers of buildings above. Random cables feeding down from rooftop solar panels hang above the streets, following along the paths in thick bundles. People often simply splice into the cables to syphon off power for their businesses or homes as they need forming webs of wires chaotically stretching around over streets and alleys. Many narrow ground level streets are lined with neon signs advertising small local businesses. Some streets have become de facto "retrofitted" into public markets that have street vendor carts. While not necessarily on every surface possible, graffiti isn't uncommon.

Most places around the undercity fall with in the territories of one gang or another who for their credit often try to maintain some level of order and basic essential public services. Services such as shifting garbage away from the local area, "protection", and extinguishing the occasional fire. For the most part security firms [basically privately owned cops for hire, more on this some other time] are absent so nearly everyone in the undercity is armed in some way in the likely event they need to defend themselves. Although typically if one just keeps there head down and doesn't start anything they are relatively safe.

As one travels nearer toward the edge of Neocago the undercity becomes less developed, less populated, and less livable overall with some sections being more or less abandoned. In these places the borders between what is the undercity and the junkyards surrounding the city begin to blur. Sparsely hidden away in the more abandoned areas are indoor gardens that grow food kept away from prying eyes that may attempt to steal meals as well as valuable plants. Some places in these border areas have become mysterious dead zones where few who enter are ever seen nor heard from again.

The population of the undercity is mostly laborers, service industry workers, "service" workers, or unemployed with some small local shop owners sprinkled around. Near universally however, everyone has their vice. This part of the city has also become somewhat attractive to lower level runners, who often thrive in the absence of security firms and high need for people to do odd jobs.

In more developed regions of the undercity buildings are even built over roads which causes an intresting little phenomenon. These areas don't get sunlight and as a result have become immune to the fact that the sun is indeed a deadly laser. Following this little quirk these portions of the undercity usually never sleep and are always a bustling place of foot traffic and commerce.

In essence the undercity is nearly around sixteen million minds all working in their own interests, often intersecting and conflicting with others as there is little overall organized coordination. The aesthetics of this region are heavily governed by that as millions of little self serving adjustments are made to the environment each day.

[WOOOO!!! Love me some worldbuilding! lol (>v<) For the next week the blurbs will be about different areas in and around Neocago and honestly I'm going to have an absolute blast writing about it all! (^.^) Anyways and always, hope you are having a lovely day, peace (^V^)v]