#settled? but i can't settle if it's not the right set up but i have to minutely tweak the set up until it's right but it so rarely is.

[parfaitblogs]

the christmas waltz ❀ s. reid x reader

in which your toddler is finally old enough to partake in christmas too, and spencer is determined for it to be perfect. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff tags: girl dad!spencer. gentle parenting... she throws a tantrum. or two. authors own christmas traditions forced upon this unsuspecting reid!family. not sorry. word count: 1.2k a/n: happy girl dad!spencer to all that freaking celebrate... tweaked the baby reid idea only a little!! first christmas she remembers?

❄︎ advent calendar masterlist

It was feet pattering swiftly against the wood outside your bedroom door that tore you away from your husband. Spencer's hand dropping from your hip as he rolls onto his back, head turning to face the door just as the knob twisted, and in bounded an incredibly excited two-year-old (two and three quarters, as she so incessantly reminds you). 

"Daddy! Mommy!" your ecstatic daughter exclaims, and Spencer's quick to hoist her up onto the bed, allowing her to settle into the space now between the two of you on her knees. Or, more accurately, the space she forced you to create. "Come on, come on!"

You share a look with Spencer, eyebrows raised, and he huffs a small laugh, before deciding to play into the tease you no doubt were planning out in your head. 

"Where are we going, Darce?"

The two-year-old's lips frown, and she jerks her gaze rapidly between you and Spencer, eyes wide. "What? It's Christmas!" Except, consonants still weren't her best friend, and Christmas sounded closer to Cwimas than anything.  

"Christmas?" Spencer turns his head back to you. 

"It's Christmas?" you ask him.

"No. That doesn't make sense. We had Christmas last year."

"Yeah. Darcy, are you sure it's Christmas?" you return your gaze to your daughter, who's lower lip is beginning to wobble, for she can't really decipher if you're joking or not. 

"But—but last night," she sniffles, eyes wide, and you instantly feel awful, your heart shattering in your chest at the sight. 

"We're kidding, Bambi," Spencer replies, clearly feeling as bad as you were, looping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his lap. "Merry Christmas."

Too easy to please, her face lights back up, and she starts wiggling her hips excitedly in his lap, speaking far too quickly for either of you to decipher properly. The verbal stumbling over 'stockings' and 'presents' were all you truly had to determine what she was asking, and Spencer was happily complying. 

She took off the second Spencer set her back down on the ground upon entering the living room, clambering onto the couch and almost vibrating with excitement as you take a seat next to her. 

"Do you want to go first?" you ask her. 

Though, it's a stupid question, for she was taking that as her confirmation to go right ahead, and you didn't have the heart to take her excitement away twice in less than ten minutes that Christmas morning. 

You had two key traditions Christmas morning — stockings from Santa before breakfast, family presents after. Spencer had ran through the Christmas morning rules with your toddler when he was tucking her into bed the night before, at an hour that was far too late for her. Getting a near three-year-old to sleep the night before Christmas had proved to be an impossible mission.

It didn't stop the tantrum she threw when she was told to put down the big box shaped present adorning not her name, but your own. 

You were barely five minutes into preparing breakfast when you heard the crying begin from the living room, and your head lifted from the croissants you were cutting open.

Spencer was crouched down to Darcy's level, his hands resting gently on her hips, as she splutters in front of him, head whipping from side to side to avoid eye contact with him. 

"Hey, Darcy, honey," he says, thumbs rubbing circles into her hips. "Why're you crying?" She doesn't reply, and the sight hurts your heart. "Bambi, I need you to tell me what's wrong."

She stammers out something you can't really hear, only picking up the words, 'mommy', 'present' and 'want', but it seems she's speaking a language Spencer understands perfectly, because he translates it back to her. 

"You're upset because you want to give mommy her present?" 

Darcy nods her head, and despite the miserable atmosphere, your heart warms and your lips tug into a smile. 

"We will," he promises. "We've just gotta eat some breakfast first, okay? Gotta get this tummy nice and full so you can have all the energy to watch mommy open it." One of his hands pats her stomach, and you watch as she squirms and lets a giggle out past her otherwise pouty lips. "Was that a giggle?"

At the call-out, she immediately goes back to pouting, "No."

"No?" he parrots. "That's too bad. Only happy girls get to give presents on Christmas Day. Are you not happy?"

You have to watch in awe every time Spencer coaxes your daughter through her meltdowns, because he is just so gentle and so perfect with her, it's almost Earth shattering. 

The promise of you opening your present from Darcy (and Spencer) first, and an extra chocolatey hot chocolate with breakfast was enough to calm the two-year-old down enough to eat, and soon enough she was sliding the box with your name on it across the floor to you in the living room once more. 

She stumbles behind it, before she climbs onto the couch again, watching you with wide eyes and keen interest. 

"Do you like it? Do you like it? Do you like it?" she repeats over and over again before you had even finished tearing the wrapping paper off. 

And like it you did. 

A scrapbook, complete with the neat signing of Spencer's name on the front, and the scrawl of Darcy's beneath it, a few dozen pictures, and drawings as detailed as a two-year-old could make them on the pages. 

"Did you make this?" you turn to her, your eyes (and heart) filled with so much love and warmth you think you might explode. 

She nods, excitedly. "At daycare! Daddy helped me keep it a secret."

"Thank you. I love it," you scoop her up into your arms the second she wriggles closer. "I love you, beautiful girl. You're so talented."

Gift exchange was the most exciting part of the morning, and an already overwhelmed toddler being told she couldn't play with her new toys because she needed to get ready to go see her grandparents was akin to taking the entire Christmas holiday away, apparently. 

Thus, another tantrum.

Exhausted from trying to keep the girl from collapsing in a fit of screaming and tears, you're finally dressing her, the sparkly red dress she had begged you for falling over her body.

"Did you call your mom?" you ask Spencer from your kneeling position on the floor in front of Darcy, slipping her shoes onto her feet. 

"Gran'ma?" Darcy asks, her voice still hoarse from crying.

"Yeah, honey."

"Not yet. I was going to do it tonight once we're home," Spencer replies to you. "So that Darcy can talk to her too."

You tap Darcy's legs once her shoes are on, and she jumps off the couch, bouncing over to Spencer by the front door. "Can I see Gran'ma?" she asks. 

"No, Bambi. We're just gonna talk to her on the phone," he shakes his head. "But we're seeing Nan."

"Mommy's mommy?"

You smile for the millionth time that morning. 

"Yes, mommy's mommy," he laughs, crouching down in front of her. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes!" she nods, enthusiastically. "Do you like my dress, daddy?"

"I do," he answers. "You look like a princess."

Darcy squeals when he picks her up at the end of his sentence, giggling, and flailing her arms around as he settles her on his hip. 

"Bambi princess," she corrects for him, and neither of you have the heart to tell her Bambi's a prince. 

Instead, Spencer nods, a serious look on his face as he ponders her words. "Yes. Bambi princess."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[myth1cs]

Deal of Lust (Im Nayeon x M!Reader)

Remastered version of my first smut because it SUCKS. (I'll give Nayeon a new smut ... eventually ... maybe)

Word Count: 1,309

Walking into school you walked around with caution making sure you didn't bump into a certain someone.

You were almost to your first period class but before you reached it you were grabbed and brought into an empty classroom.

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to avoid me."

"What no, I'm just really tired."

"Mhm, Anyways Y/N I trust you did my pre-calculus work."

"Actually I was studying for my exam last night so I wasn't able to finish it."

"You piece of shit!"

Nayeon smacked you and you fell to the floor. She grabbed you by your hair and lifted your head up.

"It's due today. Since you didn't finish it your going to pay."

Nayeon was about to hit you and you raised your hand in order to block her punch but before she hit you the sound of the doorknob twisting made Nayeon let go of you.

"Is there someone in here?"

The person who stepped through the door was the president of student council Park Jihyo.

"Oh Y/N you're so clumsy you have to stop falling down." Nayeon started caressing your face and helped you stand up.

"What are you guys doing in here?"

"Me and Y/N wanted to study on our own so we came in here. We were just about to leave but Y/N tripped and fell to the floor."

"Is this true Y/N."

You looked at Jihyo wanting to tell the truth but when you turned to look at Nayeon she gave you a "I'll kill you if you tell her." look.

"Yeah, I fell down I'm kinda clumsy like that."

"Okay well you guys can't be in a classroom without a teacher present so I'm advising you guys to go to the library if you want to study."

"Understood president Park, it won't happen again. Right Y/N?"

"R-right."

Once you all left the room Nayeon waited for Jihyo to be out of sight before she spoke to you.

"You're lucky she came in when she did. Have my homework done by 5th period or you'll regret it, got that?"

"Yes Nayeon."

She turned around and walked to her first period class leaving you in the hallway.

"Damn it why do I let myself get pushed around by her?"

Im Nayeon was the popular girl in school. Even saying that is an understatement she is what many saw as the person every student should aspire to be like. However you're the only one who knows the "real" Nayeon.

Once she realized you were the highest performing in school she started bullying you into doing her work and giving her test answers. She used the threat of beating your ass to keep you in check.

Reporting her would do nothing as everyone including staff had a false view of her and wouldn't take you seriously so you never bothered to do so.

You really wanted to finish her homework to avoid being punished but you were busy in every class. 1st period you had the exam you were studying for last night, 2nd period you had to work on a lab, 3rd period you were working on a project, and 4th period you had to help your art teacher set up for an after school event in the gym.

As the bell for fifth period came you tried to get to your class as fast as possible before Nayeon could find you. You settled for the longer path to your class assuming that Nayeon would assume you would take the shorter path to get to your class quicker.

However you didn't anticipate that she would correctly guess your actions and you saw her standing in the hallway as you turned the corner. "Oh shit!"

You tried turning around to run but before you could Nayeon grabbed you and brought you into the janitors closet.

"Where's my homework loser?"

"I don't have it!"

"Is that so? You know what happens now."

"No wait Nayeon please I'll do anything! Just please don't hit me."

"Anything I want?"

"Yes! Anything, just please don't hit me."

Nayeon grabbed your chin and made you face her. Laying your eyes on her you felt as if her demeanor changed from the one that was present just a moment earlier.

"You know Y/N there is one way you could make it up to me."

She put her fingers on the waistband of her pants and pulled her pants down.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

Once her pants were all the way down you noticed her pink pantie she was wearing but quickly averted your eyes.

"What's wrong Y/N? Do you not like what you see?"

You were unable to say to get words out of your mouth but eventually you were able to muster out a sentence "Please put your clothes back on."

"Don't be such a baby Y/N. Now look at me or I'll punish you."

Turning around to look at Nayeon you tried your best to focus on her face but you couldn't help yourself from trying to get a quick glance at her pantie.

"Go on Y/N stare at my clothed pussy." She put her finger inside her pantie and started to finger herself.

You watched her finger herself and felt your cock grow.

"Y/N if you fuck my pussy everyday then I'll stop bullying you."

"R-really?" You were surprised that her compromise was really lewd.

"Is that a yes or should I beat your face in now?"

Well who were you to deny her?

Walking up to Nayeon you pushed her to the wall and lowered yourself so you were facing her pantie.

"Go on give yourself a better view Y/N."

Putting your fingers on her pantie and dragging it down you got a clear view of Nayeon's wet pussy. Without hesitation you inserted your tongue into her pussy. She let out loud moans but covered her mouth quickly as to not draw attention to the closet both of you were in.

"Gah ~ ah ~ ah"

Hearing the noises coming from her made you want to go faster. You lapped every single inch of her pussy you could get your tongue on.

Nayeon took her shirt off and made quick work of her bra. Her breasts were now out in full display. She started to pinch and twist her nipples for further stimulation.

Pulling out of her sweet pussy you went up and kissed her letting her get a taste of herself. "Mhm ~ you're such a good kisser Y/N."

You reached for her pussy with your fingers and fingered Nayeon. She moaned into your mouth and you decided to explore her mouth with your tongue.

Nayeon felt overstimulated from everything she was experiencing and ended up cumming all over your fingers. So much cum came out that some dripped onto the floor.

"Agh ~ Y/N ... so ... good."

You licked the fluid she sprayed on your fingers: licking every last drop. "Do I taste good Y/N?"

"Yes Nayeon you taste amazing."

"Lucky for you you'll be able to taste this every day."

....

"Should we leave?"

"Probably not school staff is likely roaming the hallways looking for us since we haven't reported to our fifth period."

"So what now Nayeon?"

"We could just fuck until sixth period."

No words needed to be exchanged for her to know that you wanted to take her up on that offer.

The janitors closet was once again filled with moans for the rest of the period.

...

Jihyo was making her way to the bathroom and was passing by the janitors closet when she heard a moan. It was low but loud enough for her to hear.

She slowly crept towards it and laid on the floor to look inside from the crack under the door.

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

I prefer this over what I wrote originally. I'd like to think I've improved since I started writing and hopefully that continues.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

For thirsty weekend (if it isnt too late ofc course!) could you do 7 with xavier?

Hey! Glad to see Xavier getting some love.

"You're the first gift I want to unwrap on Christmas morning."

--------

The clock blinks midnight as you turn over in your sleep. Xavier is snug under the covers with you, fast asleep. You cuddle closer to him for warmth, your nose burying into his chest as you do so. The feeling of your wriggling body rouses him and he slowly blinks his eyes open, adjusting to the darkness of the room.

A contented smile forms on his face as he sees you pushed into him, your breath ghosting his neck. He puts a hand on your head, patting gently. You let out a sleepy noise then crack open one of your eyes.

"Ssh...it's ok, go back to sleep," Xavier reassures you but you can't seem to do so as the thought of it being Christmas comes into your head.

"Xavier," you whisper through the dark. "Can you believe this is our first Christmas together? We actually lasted."

Warmth fills his chest and he leans back to look at your face. "Of course I can believe it. It's no surprise we're meant to be together," he whispers back and you feel a rush of happiness swarm into your chest. Your heart swells with contentment at his words. Sighing, you snuggle closer, your feet brushing against his under the covers.

"I can't wait to see your face when we open presents," you murmur against his chest. Xavier comfortingly pats your head.

"Actually, I was thinking...maybe we can open a present now."

"Now?" You peer at him through the darkness. You were so warm and cozy and had no desire to get out of bed at this hour. Hearing your tone, Xavier smiles.

"Don't worry. The gift is right here. We don't have to go far." Xavier's hands suggestively trail under your sleepshirt and you twitch at his touch.

"Xavier?" He hums in response and brushes his nose against you.

"You're the first gift I want to unwrap on Christmas morning." He says softly before kissing your ear. His words bring forth a sigh from you, and you willingly allow him to continue his exploration.

His hands stroke and squeeze your body while his tongue explores your mouth. Your legs part automatically for him as he slips off your pajama bottoms and drags them down to your knees. Under the warmth of the sheets, his fingers dip into your moist folds, temptingly teasing, gathering slick from your core before dragging it up towards your steadily swelling clit.

You gasp as he brushes against it, the whispery little noise muffled against his lip as he sets up a rhythm of gentle pets that have you whining. Heat gathers in your belly and the blood rushes through your veins as he continues his gentle assault on your delicate clit.

You break the kiss to moan. It felt exquisite, the way he was touching you, so reverently like you were the most precious thing he'd seen. Your fingers tighten onto his clothes as you do your best to keep your legs open for him. He chuckles deeply as your whines change into wanton, breathy noises, your hips bucking as you seek your release.

The orgasm finally shoots through your system and you throw your head back onto the pillow with your eyes squeezed shut, crying out your pleasure as the waves of gratification pulse into every corner of your body. When it finally settles down, Xavier wastes no time in removing your top, and quickly shedding his own clothes.

"Looks like two presents were opened tonight," You tease as he reaches over you into the nightstand. He smirks as he rips open the condom packaging.

"I think you mean three."

[coffeegnomee]

I finally finished the Leo revival part and my take is that Mapicc asked Leo to be a mole.

Idk what the original plan was, we know Mapicc wanted to revive him himself, but then Zam and Derap do it first and ask Leo on right away. So they suddenly have like two minutes to prepare.

Leo is insistent and petulant and silly and all the usual 'Lifestealer wants in on a team' tactics. I thought initially that this is why Leo always betrays his old team when asked back/revived bc he just really wants to be involved in the action, and if you ask him back he wants in, regardless of anything that was going on in the past.

But they didn't ask him back: Mapicc did.

And then Leo gets Flame on, within 70 seconds Leo is dead, he guilt trips and then rage quits, making Derap and Zam have to call him back on, which they will of course, and when he gets back he keeps guilt tripping saying he'll just quit.

Flame also logged off instantly after the kill, no talking in chat at all, no comments, nothing. Like he was trying to fake a recording and we all know how terrible the lifestealers are at faking a recording believably. The tell is always that they do it too fast. Lifesteal is longwinded and slow. If you get to the point too fast, you're faking it. And then there's the heart Mapicc later said he got back and the fact Leo still had his same armor trims despite saying Flame took it. If you're faking a kill you give everything back.

So then Leo gets them to come back over, he guesses about the zaun idea, like he already was fed information that he was to infiltrate, and he insists incessantly to be added. And they refuse.

So what's Mapicc to do. the mole failed.

So now it's his turn. He goes for the angle of being mad at Flame, saying they should kill him together. Zam explains how he wanted Leo to hear both sides and then choose, and Mapicc goes, well now he's pissed at Flame so he will never join Mawn (getting Leo back on as a mole), then Mapicc asks if they will help him lure Flame out, they say no, then Mapicc wants to set up a trap at Zaun and Zam says why don't you use your trust with Flame against him, and Mapicc immediately shifts to saying he can't kill Flame bc Flame will just blow up spawn.

Trying everything to get into a situation where Zam and Derap will fight him. Because I think that's his main angle. Despite anything about Zam, Mapicc desperately wants to be opposed with Mawn. He wants to prove his power by a fight, a war, like you do on lifesteal, and they just refuse to fight him. Even if he doesn't want to fight Zam, he sees it as inevitable, not just because he believes Zam will fight him, but because he's meant to be opposed. And nobody is opposing him.

Derap starts laying it on thick that they are just building and want to be peaceful at Zaun and Mapicc, both incredulously and mockingly, says, you guys settled.

And they agree. They're not going to fight.

And Mapicc can only say "have fun living out your days gentlemen" and leaves without waiting for an answer.

I doubt he lets them off that easily. He knows the dedication to the sport of doing an arc against Zam. Zam never gives up. And currently his 'never gives up' is about not fighting.

[whisperofwonder]

The Best Medicine

Kageyama Tobio x reader - 1k words

Your daughter is sick. Kageyama stays home with her.

Reader is referred to as "mommy"

"She'll be fine," Tobio assures you. "I'll be here with her all day."

"I know," You sigh. Ever since you left work early yesterday to pick your daughter up from daycare, you've been fussing over her. It's just a fever and a cough, something that the doctor assured you will go away on its own with some medicine and time, but you can't help but worry just a little. It makes sense for Tobio to stay with her today - it's the off season, and he doesn't have any training scheduled. You're the one in the middle of a big project at work.

"I just gave her more medicine," You continue as you gather your things for work, "And it should keep her knocked out for a bit. The rest is good for her." You're saying it as much for yourself as for Tobio's benefit. He nods along anyway. "Just remember to have her eat a little something when she takes the next dose," You add as you pull on your coat.

"I will. Don't worry," He says more firmly, gripping your shoulders and looking you in the eye, forcing you to stop moving for just a moment. "We'll be just fine here. If anything comes up, I'll give you a call right away."

"Okay." You manage a smile. "Thanks, Tobio."

"Of course. I love you," He leans in for a peck before he releases you.

"I love you too," You reply on your way out the door, "I'll see you later."

With that, you're gone, and Tobio turns back into the quiet house. He doesn't have much lined up for the morning, he just starts a load of laundry and then settles on the couch with a replay of a recent match on the quietest setting. He takes a few notes every now and then.

Eventually, lunch time draws near. After heating up a quick meal for himself, he's slotting his few dishes in the dishwasher when he hears the call.

"Mommy!" Your daughter whimpers, and he closes the dishwasher, making his way to her room before she has a chance to call out again. It's just about time for her next round of medicine, anyway.

"Hi, baby," He says gently, brushing sweaty strands of hair away from her forehead. She's still warm, but the fever has definitely gone down.

"Want Mommy," She insists, her lower lip jutting out in a pout.

"Mommy's at work," He reminds her. You'd said goodbye to her this morning right before you left. "She'll be home later." She doesn't look pleased, but she doesn't say another word. "Are you a little hungry?" He asks, changing the subject.

"No," She shakes her head.

"Not even for some applesauce?" He asks as he gently tugs the blanket off of her. "It will help the medicine make you all better."

She hesitates for a moment. "Kay," She agrees quietly. He picks her up, carrying her to the kitchen. If she weren't sick, she would have scrambled out of bed and darted down the hallway on her own. It's clear she's still not feeling like herself.

After the snack of applesauce and dose of medicine, he lifts her to his hip again, prepared to tuck her back in bed. Her eyes are already drooping. In her room, he moves to lay her back down on the pillow, but she clings to his neck.

"No, Daddy," She whimpers into his chest.

"I'll read you a story," He suggests, settling down on the edge of the bed with her still in his arms.

"Don't wanna story." She shakes her head, scrubbing a fist at her eye. "Wanna watch TV."

He sighs and softens. "Okay," He agrees. In the living room, he puts on one of her favorite shows. He moves to set her down on the couch, but she clings to him again.

"No," She shakes her head.

"No?" He echoes, then settles her on his lap. "Alright." If she wants to stay close to him so badly, how can he say no to that? She leans against him, soft and warm in his arms, entranced by the colorful animations on the screen and clutching her bunny.

The older she gets, the less interested she has become in sitting still and cuddling. It seems she's always on the move, running around and playing. It isn't often that he gets to just hold her like this.

His eyes wander from the screen down to her, eyes drooping again as she slips her thumb in her mouth. Just this once, he decides to let it slide. She's getting so big. Sometimes he doesn't even realize how quickly. Soon enough she'll be off to school, maybe joining sports or the band, spending time with all of the new friends she'll make. She won't be his little girl who fits in his arms like this forever - he should savor this moment.

Time blurs by as he holds her, half-paying attention to the show as one short episode turns to another, half-dozing himself. He doesn't even realize how long it's been until he hears the door open.

"I'm home!" You say as you step inside. It isn't long before you find them in the living room, your daughter cradled against Tobio's chest. He smiles at you, and your daughter stirs against him, woken by the slight commotion.

"Hi my love," You coo at her, "How are you feeling?" She only hums in response, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Why don't we let Daddy get up?" You ask, reaching for her.

"Hm-mm," She shakes her head, snaking her arms around his neck again and burying her face against him. You look at him with wide, surprised eyes, and he can only return the expression. Earlier, she'd pouted because you weren't there. He's just as taken aback.

"Well," Your expression softens as you whisper, "I guess you had a good day with Daddy then." You lean in to kiss him, and he returns it. "How long have you been sitting here?" You ask.

"A few hours," He estimates, "But I don't mind." He presses a kiss to the top of her head. "She'll be begging for you before you know it," He predicts, and you shake your head with a smile. You both know he's right. For now, if snuggles with Daddy are what she wants, how can you deny her?

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 3

Source for pic

Trouble 3

Word Count: 4959

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: I should have chapter 4 already finished... but it's not completed yet... I haven't written almost anything this week! I know with the hollidays it will be hectic around here, but I have a few days where the office is going to be closed, so maybe I can write a bit more! Fingers crossed! Until then, please enjoy the calmness before the storm!

Masterlist

“Morning, Bug.” Shanks fills a mug of coffee for you and sets it down on the table near your plate of bacon and eggs, beside a bouquet of wildflowers. 

“Morning, Dad. Thanks for the coffee, but aren't the flowers a bit too much? It's not my birthday…” You mumble between yawns. 

“They're not from me…” Shanks smirks and nods at a note that's tucked in with the silk ribbon. 

Brow rising, your fingers brush the petals of a deep crimson poppy before they catch the note between them. ‘Wild and beautiful, just like you.’

What? Who? 

Despite the lovely gesture, you can't shake the slightest feeling of unease, it tugs at your stomach, leaving you queasy and suspicious. 

“Who's it from?” Shanks tries to hide his curiosity but falls short when he reaches over your shoulder to glimpse the note. 

“I have no idea.”

“Come on! Not even the slightest hint?” You shake your head while your mind conjures up images of a slightly not-safe-for-work dream you had with a certain green-haired cop, and you blush unintentionally. 

Obviously. Shanks picks it up. 

“You and Zoro seemed pretty cosy when I arrived yesterday…”

“It's not from him… I think.” You deflect the implications, not wanting to read too much into it yourself. “He’s not the type for grand gestures.”

Shanks hums in agreement while placing his coffee cup in the sink. “I see what you mean.” But then he places his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look at his unbearable smirk. “Though do not underestimate a man in love.”

“Dad!” You feel your ears getting hot as you get up suddenly, looking for a vase to set the flowers on. 

“I’m just saying.” He shrugs. 

“He’s not… we… we’re just friends! I just got back.” You fuss with the flowers until they’re all spread beautifully on the vase and then set them at the centre of the table.

Shanks pouts and stares at you through the flowers, across from you. “Friends.” He air quotes with two fingers. “I’ve been there, Bug.”

“Agh! You’re impossible, Dad.”

But he might also be right. Because if last night was any indication, you and Zoro might be crossing the ‘just friends’ barrier soon. 

And, honestly, there’s nothing wrong with that. 

-*-

Shanks tells you to put a hold on your job hunt because he’ll be gone for about three weeks to a month for a horse show on an island in the South Blue and he’ll need you to take care of the animals and manage the farm chores. 

So you spend the next week getting reacquainted with most of your father’s tasks in addition to the ones you had taken over ever since coming back. 

The gifts keep coming. 

Every morning there are chocolates, or flowers, or stuffed animals, little trinkets… The notes are rather simple, always evoking your beauty, but short and nondescript. You are no closer to knowing who they’re from now than you were on the first day you got them.

Shanks keeps hinting that it might be Zoro, but you doubt that very much. Besides the fact that he’s not one for romantic gestures, he would’ve said something about the gifts after six straight days.

And it’s not like you haven’t been chatting… not in person, since you’ve been busy at the farm and he’s been pulling double shifts to have the Saturday off again, but you text every day.

Short texts, to the point, much like Zoro is, but he always asks how you are and if you need anything. 

And knowing he’s trying to take care of you leaves a very warm feeling in your chest. Especially because your clumsiness almost brought you to the clinic twice just this week. You have to thank whichever deity is watching over you because, even though you hurt yourself, it’s never serious enough to send you to the hospital. 

“When are you leaving?” You ask Shanks while packing beverages, muffins and a cake you’ve baked for today’s chosen group activity. 

“Let’s see, today’s Saturday, Beckman says his helper will arrive Monday morning to keep in charge of his farm, so sometime Monday afternoon, Bug. Why? Missing your Daddy already?”

You are.

“No! I just want to make sure you carry all of your medicine and that you have Dr. Law’s emergency contact with you, in case you need it–”

“I’m not going to drag Law all the way to the South Blue just because–”

“I called him and he said you should call anytime, so you’re going to call if you need him!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” Shanks has got to be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. 

“Where are you going?” He hisses when you swat his hand away as he tries to steal a salty bacon muffin you’re storing in a container. Then you relent and let him have it.

“Just one, Dad! We’re going on a picnic in the park.” You say with a grin. “Nami organised it, of course. We’re going to spend the day hanging out, playing games, and socializing.” 

Shanks nods, never breaking your gaze, while trying to surreptitiously steal another muffin. This time you slap his hand with the lid of the container, and he yelps. His pout is quickly replaced by a smirk. “Is Officer Zoro going?”

You’re sure your nonchalant look can’t disguise the crimson blush tainting your cheeks, but you try to pay it no mind.  “Yes. And Luffy, and Usopp, Chopper, Sanji–”

“I was going to tell you to be careful, but I’m sure Officer Zoro is going to keep you safe from all harm.” Shanks taunts and you seethe, hands flying to your hips. 

“What are you, Dad, ten?” He guffaws as he successfully manages to distract you and steals another muffin before sprinting away from you and the kitchen.

“Be safe, Bug! Have fun!”

Seriously. How is this man a father?

-*-

Nami swings by your house with Vivi to pick you up for the picnic. You notice Robin’s absence in the car, and both girls giggle.

“Sabo’s picking Robin up. They’ll meet us there.” Vivi answers, and your mouth hangs open.

“Are they a thing?”

“Not yet, but it shouldn’t be long.” Nami laughs as she fixes her hair in the rearview mirror while waiting for the light to turn green. “Much like you and Zoro, I think.”

You choke on your own saliva, and it takes you a good minute to regain proper breathing functions, all while Nami and Vivi erupt into cackles and giggles. 

“We’re just friends!” You say after you’ve caught your breath.

“Sure, honey. We all believe that.” Vivi turns on the front seat to pat your knee in a condescending manner while you blush. 

“There’s so much heat coming off you two whenever you’re close that I don’t know how you still haven’t spontaneously combusted.” Nami quips, and you purse your lips. She’s not wrong there. “I mean, you’ve always sort of clicked, but now… daaaaamn!”

You sigh and bite your lip, trying to contain a giggle from erupting. “Who else is going to meet us there?” You ask, changing the subject and Nami shakes her head, knowing all too well what you’re doing, but not pressing on the matter. 

-*-

It’s a beautiful day for a picnic, and the park is the perfect setting for the beginning of a wonderful midday. There are rows and rows of trees, shade galore, small cobblestone pathways for long walks, and even a small creek providing a soft lull alongside the soft giggles of children. 

You and the girls are setting up rows of blankets on the grass, by the shade of the tall trees, when the group begins to arrive. You lift your head, hand sheltering your eyes from the sun, and scan the crowd. Luffy, Barto, Usopp, Kaya, and Chopper are approaching the treeline. They probably rode together.

A slight breeze dishevels your hair as your eyes linger behind, but there’s no green mane of hair in sight yet. An absent sigh leaves your lips before you spy Nami’s knowing smirk aimed your way.

She doesn’t say anything, but you blush anyway. Her unspoken words linger around you like a thick fog. You are eager to see Zoro. She knows it, you know it, hell, anyone who saw you two interact lately knows it. 

But you vow to retain some semblance of dignity and pretend to fuss over the blankets and small folding chairs. You’re so absorbed in your task that you don’t even see him approach.

“Hey there, Troublemaker, making trouble?”

The smile that graces your lips is instant and unstoppable. You turn slightly and bite your lower lip when your eyes meet his. Why does every shirt he wears seem so tight against his muscles?

“Hardly! I’m just setting up chairs!” But as you deliver the words, the chair you were opening snaps shut, almost catching your fingers, and you yelp. 

“You’re a menace.” His tone is both amused and resigned, almost as if he knew something of the kind would happen, was expecting it, even. 

“It attacked me!” You defend yourself weakly, a giggle bubbling up in your chest because he is right. You are a menace.

Zoro ends up helping you set the chairs, and you don’t even try to stop him. Both because you’re very likely to end up either hurting yourself or breaking a chair, and because he keeps brushing his shoulders and hands with yours, and the touch is welcomed. 

Robin and Sabo arrive with flushed cheeks - you can almost see Nami registering that fact for later probing - and soon after, Franky and Brook, two older men you still haven’t met but Luffy quickly introduces you to, saying they’re also part of the gang. 

You see Sanji already setting up food on the blankets, and he greets you warmly. “Hi, Sanji. You rode with Mosshead?”

“Oi?” Zoro snaps, and you ignore him.

“I did, Madame, and it was the most unpleasant ride of my life. Please remind me not to do it again.”

You giggle when Zoro’s brows knit together, his hands clenched into fists. “Tch, shitty cook, next time you ride with me, it will be in my patrol car and I’ll be dragging you straight to prison.”

Sanji starts to fume, his pursed lips crumpling the cigarette dangling from his lips, and you grimace. “Hey, hey, boys, it was just a joke!”

Nami sighs as they butt heads and continue arguing. “Never mind that.” She tells you. “Any chance they get to get up close and personal, they take it. They have a weird bromance thing going on.” She raises her hands defensively in the air. “I swear, for a moment there I thought they were going to be a thing, but Sanji loves women too much and Zoro is a man with a goal-oriented mind. Even if it’s someone he set his sights on a lifetime ago.”

Your brow raises at her as she smirks that all-knowing smirk. But she leaves it at that and stands in the middle of the boys, dragging Sanji by the scruff of his dress shirt, telling him the girls are hungry, which promptly sets him back to the task of setting up the food. 

“Shitty cook…” You hear Zoro mumble as he sets his hands in his pockets and kicks a blade of grass. It’s cute how flustered he gets. Then his eye sets on you and he frowns with a low grumble. “Oi, I didn’t forget you called me Mosshead.”

You set a hand on your heart, feigning repentance. “Oh, do forgive me, Mr. Mosshead. I forgot your title.”

“Trouble…” He lowers his tone in mock warning, and you smile, taking a step back, hands in a defensive stance. 

“Lord Moss, Knight–” Your antics are cut short by a piercing yelp when Zoro jumps and tries to catch you, but somehow, you swerve away from his grasp and start to run, an unbridled laugh filling your lungs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I was just joking!”

“Repentance doesn’t dissolve the crime! Come here, Trouble!” He sprints, though you suspect he’s hardly even trying, and you cackle, running faster, the voices of the group fading into the distance. 

“You’ll have to catch me first!” Maybe you should’ve measured your words, because as soon as he hears the challenging tone in your voice, he sprints faster, and you barely have time to breathe before his arm wraps around your waist and he swirls you in the air, making you scream and laugh before he pulls your back against his chest.

Heart pounding against your ribs, cheeks flushed from running and breath catching in your throat, you feel your legs shaking when Zoro’s warm breath tickles your neck. “Gotcha.” He whispers, and you notice he’s not even out of breath while you look like you ran a marathon. 

The world dissolves into just this moment. The chirping of the birds and the rustling of the trees are nothing but background noise to the deafening pounding in your chest and the buzzing in your ears. 

Turning your head slightly to the side, you catch Zoro’s eye fixed on you, a wild smirk on his lips. “What now, officer? Are you going to arrest me?”

Damn. That was supposed to come out playfully, not sultrily. Right?

“Depends.” Did his voice get huskier? “Are you going to resist arrest, Trouble?”

You feel your throat bobbing up and down at all the wild fantasies running through your mind. The way he uses that nickname manages to send shivers down your spine and heat straight into your core. 

“Obviously.” You sound breathless, and it's a good thing you can blame that sorry state on the run, or you wouldn't know how to explain it. 

“Figures.” He chuckles low, and you feel it rumbling in his chest. Then, with a swift movement, he turns you, bends his knees, and hoists you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

“Wha–”

“Let's go.” Your flush deepens as you feel his strong hand against the back of your thighs, holding you in place. “The humiliation will teach you not to call me Mosshead.”

“Come on, Zo, I said I was sorry!” You whine, and he stiffens, his pace slowing for a beat, and you feel his shoulders shake slightly. Then he resumes his pace. 

“I like that.”

You stop pounding your fists against his back and raise your brow. “What? Me apologizing?”

He grunts and keeps walking, the blanket and your laughing friends nearly in sight. “That nickname. Way better than Mosshead.”

Oh! Zo! Another small blush creeps into your cheeks, but before you can reply, Nami whistles. “What you got there, Zoro?”

You hear your friends laughing and bury your face in your hands, feeling mortified. “Someone’s been naughty.” Zoro replies with a smirk and an edge of amusement in his tone. 

“Seriously?” You grumble, pushing against his back to try and wiggle out of his embrace, though it’s all for naught because he has an iron grip on your legs. 

“Well, either set her down so we can all eat or take her to naughty jail and punish her. Away from our sight, please.” 

“Nami!” You yell, exasperated, but Zoro merely chuckles, swerving right as if changing directions. 

“Naughty jail it is, then.”

“No, no!” You whimper. “I’m sorry!” Chopper stares at both of you, not sure if you’re being serious, so you try to take advantage of him and stretch your hand. “Help me, Chopper!”

He reaches his hand out before Nami swats it away. “Let them be, Chopper. They need some alone time.”

You seethe at Nami, a pout on your lips. “Traitor.”

Zoro lets out a low chuckle before settling you down at the edge of the blanket. “Learned your lesson, Troublemaker?”

You steady yourself, hands against his chest, and a permanent blush tattooed on your cheeks. “Damn you. I’m never calling you Mosshead again. You won.”

“I see you’re a fast learner.” His smirk is impossibly smug. “Zo’s fine, though.” Then he turns his back on you, opens the small cooler, and takes out a beer, cracking it open with one hand and chugging at it without another look back at you. 

And, damn it, if that doesn’t mess with your heart.

-*-

“Who wants another drink?” You ask and count the raised hands before getting up, heading towards the cooler to satiate your friends’ thirst. Zoro moves his hand before you reach it, and smooths the blanket before you can trip on its raised edge.

You smile at him, but he’s not even looking at you. His eye is shut, one arm behind his neck as he leans against the tree, though you know very well he’s attentive to everything. You pass the drinks around, then return to get your own.

“Watch your head.” Zoro mumbles, and you raise your brow but don’t heed his advice and, therefore, hit a low branch of the tree, releasing a string of curses while rubbing your forehead. “When are you going to start listening to me, Trouble?”

“When you stop sounding like a smug jerk.” You mouth, annoyed at his attentiveness and at how he seems to perceive danger before you even realise it’s there. He chuckles and you retrieve your drink, returning to your seat.

After a while of relaxing in the shade, Luffy drags everyone to a frisbee game. The boys are all down to play, but the girls just sit by a bench near the open space the boys chose to throw the frisbee and tackle each other. 

You sit on the back of the bench, a case of water bottles by your feet because you know the boys will be thirsty soon. Vivi sits on the grass in front of Nami’s legs, and Robin and Kaya are on the bench. 

After a small chit-chat about meaningless stuff, you decide to bring up something that’s been bothering you. “So I’ve been getting a lot of gifts lately…”

Four heads whip your way, and you sigh, already expecting that reaction and the bombardment of questions that follow. So you raise your hands, and they stop to let you continue. Though you decide to focus on the game in front of you instead of the way they’re all staring at you.

You especially focus on a very athletic green-haired man who constantly gazes up to where you are before focusing back on the game. 

“It’s flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals… It started last weekend, after the party at Luffy’s. They have notes, but nothing personal. No name, no nothing… I don’t know who they’re from, and I don’t even know if I should be flattered or freaked out by them.”

“How do they make you feel?” Robin asks, and you shrug, not quite knowing how to answer that question.

“The first ones made me feel good. I thought they were from– I thought I might know who they were from. But since he didn’t say anything about it, I doubt they're from him. So now they just feel weird…”

“Honey, we all know you’re talking about Zoro.” Nami says in a very condescending manner, and all the girls agree.

You sigh and bury your face in your hands. You’re so obvious it hurts. 

“Fine, yes. I thought they might’ve come from him, at first. But he’s not one for romantic gestures.”

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly.” Nami quipped back, a smirk tugging her lips as her eyes fell back on the game. Sure enough, Zoro’s eyes are back on the bench - on you, to be more specific. “I think it’s quite romantic the way he’s always checking to see if you’re safe. Keeping you away from trouble and making sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

A small blush creeps its way into your cheeks. It is quite romantic. “That’s just Zoro being Zoro. He’s a cop. He protects and serves.” You roll your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure he would like to serve you.” Nami giggles and all the girls try to stifle their own laughs. “But you’re wrong about that. Sure, he’s always attentive to any kind of threats, but it’s different with you.”

“What do you mean?” You can’t stop the way your heart pounds maddeningly against your sternum. 

“She means that Zoro doesn’t usually go out of his way to keep people from tripping on stuff or from bumping their head. And with you, he’s always extra careful.” Robin finishes with a small smile. 

“Like the way he’s playing now, but keeps looking at you to see if you’re still in one piece. It’s like he’s expecting you to spontaneously combust or something.” Kaya adds with a giggle. 

“It’s very endearing.” Vivi finishes, and your blush deepens, so you bury your head back into your hands, stifling a loud groan. 

“But you’re still right.” Nami continues as if you’re not breaking down in front of them. “I don’t think he’s the one leaving the gifts…” She laughs suddenly. “But there’s one way to tell for sure.”

You raise your head from your hand cocoon to tell her to keep her mouth shut, but Zoro is already halfway to the bench and you squeak. “Nami…”

“Hey, Zoro!” She starts with a wave of her hand. You see Zoro raise his eyebrow at her, his long strides bringing him closer to the bench. 

Shit.

He’s sweaty all over. Fat droplets of perspiration drop from his temples to his perfect jawline and neck, and you gulp, feeling hot and bothered. So, it comes as no surprise that when he reaches his hand to grab a bottle between your legs, you lose your balance and fall back on the bench.

Yelping, you expect to hit the floor with a dry thud, air escaping your lungs and sharp pain blinding you. Instead, you feel a strong hand wrap around your forearm and tug hard, then your face being squished against a muscular, sweaty chest.

Zoro saved you from an ugly fall. Again.

“Seriously, Trouble? Why?” His voice is gravelly and rough, but with an edge of exasperation lacing it. “I’m starting to feel like I have to be with you 24/7 or you’re going to end up in the hospital.”

Your breath is still leaving your lips in ragged gasps because of the slight scare of facing an inevitable fall, and your face is still pressed against Zoro’s chest. You feel the girls’ gaze on both of you and Zoro seems completely unfazed by it, while saying you’re embarrassed would be the understatement of the year.

So you disentangle yourself from the predicament that is Zoro’s muscles and laugh it off, a hand scratching the back of your neck. “Ah, thank you. I got… distracted.”

“By what?” He asks while taking a sip of water.

“Well, Zoro,” Nami begins, and he shifts his focus to her, “we were discussing who could be her secret admirer, and then you showed up. Curious.”

“Secret admirer?” Zoro’s gaze falls back on you, his brow scrunched.

“Ah, no. It’s nothing like that. It’s just–”

“She’s been getting gifts. Flowers, chocolates, love declarations…” Why is Nami exaggerating? Is she trying to fish for information or make Zoro jealous? “You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with it, would you?”

He drinks the water in three long gulps before answering, his scowl now permanently etched on his lips. “Do I look like the kind of guy who would do that?”

You look down and bite your lower lip. You knew it wasn’t him, but maybe, secretly, there was still a little part of you that hoped he could be showering you with that kind of attention. 

“Well, I just thought–” Nami begins, but she’s swiftly interrupted by Zoro, whose eyes can’t seem to leave your figure.

“When I want someone, I make it clear I’m interested. You’ll know.” He finishes drinking the water just as your eyes meet his, and the fire burning there scalds and melts. Was he telling you he’s interested? Was he saying he’s about to make a move?

With a smirk, he turns his back, grunts a gruff ‘try not to fall again, Trouble’, and gets back to the game, leaving you more confused than ever. 

“Did he–” Nami starts.

“Nobody says anything. We’re going to act like nothing happened.” You mumble before getting up and chugging down an entire bottle of water yourself to try and calm your nerves.

It doesn’t work.

-*-

The frisbee game makes everyone tired - and hungry - so, after all the bellies are filled again, the crew is relaxing in the blanket, enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon and the lulling sounds of the park. 

Chopper, Usopp, Luffy, and Barto are enjoying a card game. Franky seems interested, but he’s only overseeing and throwing advice that only seems to make Usopp lose the game. Robin has a book in her hands and Sabo’s head on her lap, his eyes closed with a blissful smile on his lips. 

You have serious doubts that she's paying attention to the book, especially since she seems to be stuck on the same page for over ten minutes, but you don’t say anything. Kaya is braiding Vivi’s hair and Nami is snapping photos of the crew, taking little candid shots with her cellphone. Brook is gracing everyone with a nice, mellow song on his violin - he's a wonderful musician - and Zoro seems to be sleeping peacefully, leaning against the tree.

Everything seems peaceful, quiet, and idyllic. 

But you can’t seem to shake the feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. It’s like someone is watching you, but you can’t quite pinpoint who or where. It’s a prickling on your neck, something you’re already growing so used to that you start to think you should have this checked out by a doctor. 

With a heavy sigh, you stand up, stretching your arms to justify that action. “I’ll be back soon.” You say softly to Nami, who’s closer to you and she nods. Then, you look around before taking a step. The park is one big open space - with the exception of some trees here and there - except for the dense treeline behind you. 

So that’s where you’re headed. 

-*-

Zoro senses you getting up and opens his eye slowly, following you with his gaze and scowling when you don’t see the tree root sticking out and stumble a little before steadying your pace. 

You’re such a damn klutz.

And damn it, if he doesn’t want to be there to catch you and protect you from everything. 

His heart constricts slightly at the thought, and he sighs softly. He thought absence had made him forget how he felt about you. He even had some ‘relationships’ while you were away. Wait… can he really call something that never went past three months a real relationship? He never truly bonded with those women. Never truly cared.

No one ever made him feel the way you did.

The way you do.

But time and distance did nothing but make him pine harder for you. When Nami told him casually that you were returning, he almost didn’t believe her. You didn’t even come back for any of the holidays or to say ‘hi’, let alone come back for good after experiencing life in the big city. 

But you returned.

And then he thought he wouldn’t quite forgive you for having literally abandoned them. No text, no email, no letter, nothing. He would be salty, at least. Grumpy and upset, at most.

But he forgave you instantly. 

One look at your dishevelled form, chasing a goddamned tire with dirt all over your clothes and face, and he was a lovestruck teenager again. 

Fucking heart, what a useless organ. 

All those thoughts forgotten, he simply reached out. And you reached back, almost like no time had passed between you, and you could basically continue your story where you left off. 

And he was willing to try.

Though he didn’t want to rush too fast - damn Nami should just stop intruding and let you two figure things out yourselves. He’d get there. He almost kissed you already, so the feeling is mutual. 

He’s got time.

Sitting up, he watches as you peek behind trees, a cautious demeanour to your posture making him raise his brow. What the hell are you doing?

“Just go to her, dumbass.”

“Shut up, Witch. Mind your own business.”

Nami sticks her tongue out at him and snaps a picture of his grouchy face before turning her phone towards you and snapping another candid shot. 

“You look like a lost puppy in love. It’s cute, you know? The way you keep looking out for her.” Zoro feels his ears heat up and leans back again, trying to close his eye and return to a state of relaxation, but he can’t very well do that when you’re doing God-knows-what near the trees, looking creepily at everywhere and everything. “Just make sure you make your move soon… or maybe that secret admirer will one-up you and poof!” She makes an exploding gesture with her hand, and Zoro scowls at her. 

“You’re insufferable.” He quips before getting up and dusting his jeans.

“Word of the day? How smart of you, Zoro.” She giggles when Zoro passes by her and messes up her hair with his hand, earning an indignant gasp from the orange-haired girl. “I just went to the salon, you brute!”

Zoro smirks at her reaction and starts pacing towards you, Nami’s antics behind him. Well… all except one…

‘Make sure you make your move soon…’

Perhaps he should. He doesn’t want to lose you before even having the chance to have you.

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks

[euphoricsleeplucidity]

Day two of that short series of Christmas-themed Murder Drones fics. I should mention right now that these are all loosely connected and also, Nuziv is the end game but I'm not tagging it for all of these because it isn't focused on until the very last one on Christmas.

ii. Christmas Tree

"N, you are going to topple it," Uzi grumbles, watching as he climbs up the tree. It's large, yeah, but it definitely wobbles as he climbs it, since it's not natural and the only thing actually holding it up is the fact the base is buried in the snow. She and V had sent him to go see if he can find a tree suitable for decorating - and he winded up bringing this thing back. Apparently, he had found it in an abandoned holiday store.

Safe to say, Uzi was impressed that he had managed to carry it all the way back here. They set it up just outside the corpse spire, the fake leaves bristling stiffly in the cold, windy air of Copper-9.

She watches as he finishes putting up the very last ornament along the spiral of Christmas lights, a proud smile on his face. Uzi finds it cute. Uh, not that she'd ever admit that out loud, of course.

"See? It didn't topple," N replies late, climbing back down it.

"Wait until later," V pipes up from beside Uzi, startling her. She didn't even see her come out, 'nor hear her walk up next to her.

She voices as much. "Where did you come from?"

"The pod," V answers without missing a beat, a hand on her hip.

Uzi groans. "No shit," she grumbles under her breath.

"Now we need to put this up!" N says eagerly, and Uzi looks back at him just in time to see him hold up a tree-topper - some type of star ornament, which shines brightly in the moonlight. It's actually quite pretty, the light of the moon hitting it just right to illuminate the more translucent spiky outer edges.

A hand at her back, and she's shoved forward, stumbling to catch herself so that she doesn't fall flat on her face.

"Really?" Uzi snaps, turning her head to glower at V, who looks at her with a toothy grin and smugness written all over her.

"What?" V acts innocent, cocking her head. "You want to do the honors, don't you?"

Before Uzi can berate her, tell her that she did not have to push her like that, N pipes up. "Yeah! Uzi, c'mere," his arms are outstretched, and Uzi can't help the smile that spreads across her face at how happy and excited he looks. It makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside to know he's enjoying their little Christmas festivities, even if it's just the three of them out here.

With a pep in her step, Uzi approaches and allows herself to be picked up and hoisted over his shoulder. He hands her the tree-topper, and carefully aligns her with the tree. Reaching up, she can just barely make it, her fingers touching the tip… a little further and… voilà! Uzi carefully settles the star at the top of the tree.

"Ta-da!" She giggles. N's energy is evidently infectious.

He brings her down and spins her around in his excitement, and though it's dizzying and he squeezes her a little too tightly, she returns the embrace and buries her face into his jacket to hide her blissful little grin.

[thewriterwithsnakes]

The Ekko of A Violin: Part 2

Sorry this took me so long to get another part in, the holidays have me swamped. I am excited to let you all know that this story has a death grip on me and will become a series. I've already got ideas running around for the next few parts.

Summary: Your first day as a firelight is as exciting as it is embarrassing. Aka your new environment is wonderful and you can't help being awkward around Ekko.

Warnings: Use of Y/N, still not hitting the full romance part yet, not entirely proofread

The next day you woke up, well rested for once. You stretched and your joints cracked. You sighed in relief and got ready for your first day as a firelight. Before heading out though, you did some warms ups and practiced a bit on your violin. It was nice to start mornings with music, it calmed your mind and let you mentally prepare for the day. You set the instrument down on your bed before throwing on some sneakers and heading out.

It was a bit of a shock, being greeted pleasantly. The usual greetings in Zaun consisted of foul words and attempted muggings. If you were lucky you'd only get demeaning looks and catcalls. So to be told good morning with a smile was a little jarring, but you took it all in stride. Usually change was pretty terrible, especially in the undercity, but now it was refreshing and more than welcome.

Unbeknownst to you, everybody knew that when a new firelight was recruited, Ekko wouldn't tell them who he was right away, he liked to see how people treated their equals. So nobody mentioned it to you, nobody batted an eye when Ekko approached you by the tree and told you his name was Gabriel. It was the name he used when recruiting so that way nobody would get mixed up. And recruiting in the undercity was sparse enough that it didn't happen often anyways. It's not like Zaun was full of people who spent their free time doing charity work.

"So what's your name, sugar?" A smirk graced his face as he leaned up against the beautiful tree. You let out a soft laugh.

"I'll tell you, but only if you promise to keep the nickname." You joked. He gave you a playfully offended look as he pressed his hand to his chest. "As if I'd ever forget!" He shot back as he laughed. You could get used to the sound. The sight of his smile and the sparkle in his eyes as he playfully shook his head at you in mock disappointment, hair swaying slightly with his movements. "So?" 'Gabriel' asked. "Hm?" Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Well are you gonna keep staring at me sugar or are you gonna give me your name?" Your cheeks burned, you hadn't even realized you were staring. "Oh uh sorry it's y/n." You looked at ground more than slightly embarrassed. "Pretty name, sugar." He spoke again. "I've gotta run, have fun on your first day as a firelight sugar." He walked away and you let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding in.

The rest of the day was pleasant and you went through what was basically orientation. A fellow firelight explained their values and usual routines, what to expect and some basic rules. You delighted in finally feeling like you had a family. You made some friends and then spent the late afternoon playing your violin. The piece you'd been working on, a proudly original composition, was coming together nicely. You still had to tweak just about every note though, okay so maybe you hated it but an artist always hates their work right? You set the violin and the bow back it the case before settling in for bed. A sigh left your lips as you tucked your arm underneath your pillow with a smile. You really began to love going to sleep looking forward to the next day instead of dreading it.

[the-blossica-fan]

Yo, guess who got 37 accidentally from a single ten pull?

In celebration, Actors AU!

37

finally worked up the courage to ask Sophia out on a date.

CONGRATULATIONS 🎉🎉🎉

My friend told me the same thing and I was like "goddamn luck be on your ass"

Didn't know if you wanted a short story but I tried ☝️

There is never a shortage of rumors in the set. Harmless, of course, but still funny and interesting, as well as a little informative.

It's not hard to assume that some would even know about the existence of such rumors, those with little interactions would naturally have a hard time learning or keeping up with the gossip, and those denser than a brick wall wouldn't even be aware of them.

During accidental meetings with an acquaintance, it's best to settle for a topic everyone is well aware of, gossip. Sitting outside of the place they hang out the most without any topic to share, what's more simple than gossiping for a moment?

If you know how to, that is.

Alma and Thirty-Seven had been sitting on a bench outside the set for more than ten minutes, one mindlessly playing with her hand, the other thinking deeply of a topic to start a conversation, the girl is a friend's daughter and friends with her own son, this awkward silence can't stay forever, can it?

A brilliant idea came to mind. Thirty-Seven must not be too different from her mother, they're just like each other, so, she must enjoy gossip too, right?

Right?

"Thirty-Seven, is it true that you have a crush on Sophia?" Alma attempted to start a conversation with Thirty-Seven, a poor subject to choose for a poor unsociable lady.

"WHAT?!" And the response received carried the expected shock from such a blunt question. "Who-- who told you that?! Was it Two hundred and ten? That bastard--"

"Uh, no" Alma shook her head, placing a firm hand on the girl's shoulder to prevent her from standing up. "It's actually quite a famous rumour, Seventy-Seven and Regulus told me they heard it from someone, who then heard it from someone, and so on"

Thirty-Seven's face grew redder the more details Alma offered, blue eyes searching for any kind of indication that this had been nothing more than a tasteless joke. Of course, Alma is nothing more than an honest woman, not a trace of a lie on her face. Such a thing running around, had she been so obvious that even this sheltered lady would know?

"Uhm, Miss Alma," The woman turned to Thirty-Seven with a curious glance, just like what Atticus would do. Like mother like son. "Do you think Sophia knows?"

"Yes, indeed" No hesitation in the woman's voice accompanied by a soft smile "she had been there during Seventy-Seven's explanation of the rumor"

Alma found herself confused once Thirty-Seven turned to her with wide eyes and a pale face. Whatever had been on her mind had been long forgotten, she could almost see betrayal in her eyes.

"Is there something wrong-- oh," Alma placed her hand on her shoulder, ashamed of her own naivety. Of course that would be her reaction, what a stupid question to ask! "I apologize, perhaps I shouldn't have told you that" or she should have? What a dilemma.

"Sophia knows?! But-- Where is my mother at this moment?" Thirty-Seven stood up in a hurry, moments before realization could settle in completely.

"I saw her moments ago, let me guide the way there" The whole time Alma tried to calm down Thirty-Seven, even more thoughts appeared in her mind.

They stood from that small bench, walking towards the last place Alma swore she had seen Seventy-Seven, that cunning lady, always scheming with such an angelic face... Mm, that sounded very different on paper.

Thirty-Seven placed a hand on her chin, deep in thought like she usually would during a mathematical problem, but this is a real life problem! A rumor that could ruin her relationship!

But, that's merely a rumor, isn't it? Sophia would not believe such a baseless rumor, this is Sophia we're talking about! But, if she did, how would she react? What if she found it disgusting? What if she didn't want them to be friends anymore? What if she breaks all ties with her because of this?!

"Are you overthinking?" Thirty-Seven's thoughts are broken by the woman's soft voice, her own confused and surprised face must have answered that question. "Atticus has that same face when he's in deep thought, don't worry, you can share your thoughts with me"

As far as she knows, Alma is a more reliable woman than her own mother. This betrayal being the best example. Though a bit sheltered and socially awkward, the woman, had never let her down even once! Unlike her mother, what a traitor.

"What if Sophia ends her friendship with me over this? I have heard so many takes of friendships breaking because of these kinds of rumors..."

Alma sighs, placing a comforting hand on Thirty-Seven's shoulder, squeezing slightly. "It's obvious it's not just a rumor, dear" And the girl looks away, red-faced. "But do you really think Sophia would leave you behind over such a simple thing?"

Thirty-Seven shakes her head slowly, making Alma laugh amusedly.

"Even if she didn't return your feelings," Which I doubt "she wouldn't dream of leaving you behind over such a simple deal, you know this better than anyone, dear"

Thirty-Seven has no response to this, after all, Alma is right. Sophia has been there through thick and thin, despite everything, so why would she leave over such a rumor? Thirty-Seven looks up to Alma, a pleading gaze in her beautiful blue eyes.

"Miss Alma, would you be my mother?"

"That holds some implications, so no"

It proved hard to find Seventy-Seven, the woman could never stay in one place for a long time, however, they did find an even more knowledgeable guide. Well, he just finished talking with the woman they've been looking for, so he had fresher information on her whereabouts.

"Let me see if I understood this correctly," Atticus led the way, his gaze resolute, but even someone like him could be curious over such an absurd discourse. "Your mother, Miss Seventy-Seven, shared with Sophia--"

"And Miss Alma!"

"...And my mother, that you have a crush on Sophia, am I correct?"

"As always, Atticus!"

"What a funny discussion"

Atticus' reactions are hard to discern, but Thirty-Seven has gotten used to his and his mother's ways to show emotions. Subtle, but meaningful, hiding behind their words and careless actions.

"Are you sure this is the way, Atticus?" Alma walked by his side, their blond head so similar one could almost confuse one with the other, that is if you didn't look at their faces.

"Of course, mother, I heard she would speak with Miss Greta for a while" Atticus sneered "A one-sided conversation that would last as long as Miss Greta's patience, nothing."

"Hey! My mother is not that annoying, I'm sure Greta would hold a longer conversation than last time!"

The mother and son turned to each other, sharing silent conversation with their eyes before turning back to Thirty-Seven.

Oh she doesn't know.

"Mm, look, she's there" Atticus decided to smartly ignore the response, pointing instead at the gorgeous woman with blue hair excitedly talking to the most tired-looking woman on the set.

"Mother!"

Thirty-Seven ran all the way to her mother, leaving behind her guides that accompanied her all the way without a single goodbye or thank you. Terrible, but expected from Thirty-Seven.

"Rude..."

"...As expected of Seventy-Seven's daughter"

"Ah? Oh! Thirty-Seven, darling, what a surprise seeing you here!" Seventy-Seven's attention turned to her daughter running towards her. God has blessed Greta.

"Mother! I've been looking for you for a while! I need to speak with you!" Thirty-Seven grabbed both of her mother's arms, holding her in place desperately, and turned to the tired woman by their side. "Uh, privately, if that's alright with you, Miss Greta"

The woman shook her head, relieved to have such a distraction from Seventy-Seven's annoying words. "It's more than alright, thank you, Thirty-Seven" and so, she parted ways, quickly.

Now that it's just mother and daughter, Thirty-Seven has enough freedom to stare at her mother with a betrayed gaze, winning an amused but confused grin from the older woman.

"Mother, is it true you told Sophia about my crush on her?!"

Seventy-Seven blinked once before laughing, anyone would have been deceived, but not Thirty-Seven. She's lived sixteen years with her, she knows her mother.

"Of course not! What sort of things go through your brain, dear?"

"Miss Alma told me so!"

Seventy-Seven gasped, her gaze now similar to her daughter's. "That traitor!"

"You're the traitor!"

Such an argument technically made sense, so Seventy-Seven had to give in. She sighed, easing her daughter's grip with her hands slowly.

"Listen, you aren't exactly the most discreet one, dear" As if that answer would love everything "But I didn't tell her because I could, she asked and I couldn't say no! What a darling she is, you should definitely ask her out"

This time, it's Thirty-Seven's turn to look confused and tired. Too much time around Greta can do that to you. "She asked?"

"Indeed! She came to me since you were hard to find, a couple days ago if I remember correctly, and asked me bluntly if you had a crush on her" Seventy-Seven nodded at the memory, as if approving of something "She's smarter than I thought, but you're also not that discreet, I still have to give her points for asking"

"A couple days ago?!"

"Are you just going to repeat what I'm saying? I thought you'd ask more important things!"

Thirty-Seven let go of her mother, covering her face with her hands. Sophia and her just talked yesterday like normal, this morning Sophia looked so normal, not like she had discovered Thirty-Seven's raging crush on her.

"What do I do now???" If she had thought about it more deeply, she would have realized that Sophia didn't even mind or care, but of course she didn't.

"How about you ask her out on a date? I doubt she'd say no, and you have nothing to lose!"

"My friendship??"

"Who cares about being friends?" Perhaps it's a curse of their family, but comforting is not their forte, especially in these cases. "Okay, that sounds horrible"

Perhaps she realized so because of Thirty-Seven's petrified face or because finally she had used emotions and reactions.

"Listen, dear, I know this must sound horrible, but if she already knows, isn't it more painful to leave it as it is? A question in her mind that would plague her forever? She's waiting for your answer, dear, won't you give it to her?"

Sometimes, Seventy-Seven proved herself to be a decent mother, someone that you could trust with your problems, that would give you advice with a soft smile on her face and a warm gaze in her soft eyes. Perhaps that is why she's so adored by many.

"...Miss Alma is better at comforting than you"

"I know, isn't that ho--"

"But, thank you, mother" A smart interruption before things got off the rails, Thirty-Seven looked into her mother's eyes, determined, as always. "I'm going to talk to Sophia and clear this misunderstanding!"

"Hah, no" Seventy-Seven gave a well deserved slap to the back of her stupid daughter's head, affectionately. "You're going to build up the courage to tell her your feelings, preferably now, as soon as possible"

"But--but why?!"

"I'm tired of hearing you fawning over your best friend, I want to hear you talk about your girlfriend for once"

Ah, indeed, what a weird conversation, but it seems that only those two understand each other. Thirty-Seven nodded her head, having made up her mind after her mother's nonsensical cheerful words.

"Alright, wish me luck!" And she ran to Sophia's direction, forgetting that she doesn't know where she is. "Wait-- Where is Sophia?"

"...You don't know?"

"..."

"Her room, darling, she's in her room"

"Thank you, mother!" She ran again, this time in the opposite direction, to Sophia's room somewhere in the building.

Seventy-Seven watched her go with a proud smile on her face "I love spreading misinformation, good luck dear!"

What a tiring journey, Thirty-Seven took a moment to catch her breath before knocking on Sophia's door. The final destination to this adventure, and the only place where she had felt the more nervous.

Her heartbeat accelerated, her hands sweaty and her legs shaking, all signs of being nervous-- or running all the way here, as Thirty-Seven tried to convince herself.

"You can do it, Thirty-Seven! You're your mother's daughter, you should be able to say something as simple as a confession, it's not hard! Think of this as a mathematical problem!" Oh no... "The answer is a formula, one that can be solved with easy wording!" A door had been opened, but Thirty-Seven had been too caught up to notice "What is the information we have? Sophia's knowledge, your own feelings and the problem being lack of communication!"

"And how would you solve that problem?"

"Confessing my love, of course-- SOPHIA?!"

Standing in front of her is the same girl she had been thinking about, eyes wide in surprise and growing blush on her cheeks. She heard everything... Well, mumbling outside her door is something anyone would be concerned about.

"Hello, Thirty-Seven" Sophia tried to maintain a straight face at those words and at the deafening shout. "I would have asked what you're doing here but I think I shouldn't"

"Why are you here?!"

"...This is, uh, my room..."

"...Forget what you just heard and listen to me!"

As hard of a request as it is, and Sophia's face growing even more red every second that passed, Thirty-Seven had to act quickly and precisely before making a fool out of herself! More than she already is.

"I-- Sophia, I--" Thirty-Seven's hand trembled, her face so red it rivalled Sophia's hair.

"Do you want me to--"

"No! I have to do this, for my pride!" Sophia shrugged, the scene as silly as it can be. "Sophia, I am in--in... In, I'm," How would her mother say those words? Terrible example to take but also the best at the same time. "Go on a date with me!"

A moment of silence for Thirty-Seven. Fortunately, Sophia found it funny. The usually composed young lady, a prodigy at mathematics and the smartest person she had ever seen... Shaking from head to toe, red faced and embarrassed. A cute image that made Sophia laugh, something the poor girl had only been able to witness twice.

"Of course, whenever you want, Thirty-Seven" She looked at the stunned girl by her door. "Not today, I assume, but I'd love to"

"Really?!"

"Really"

Thirty-Seven held back her wish to punch the air, her dignity had been dragged through the mud, she needed to preserve what was left.

Oh, and solve the mystery of why Sophia hadn't told her about her own crush if she had asked.

"Oh, and, Sophia" The girl hummed, waiting for the upcoming question. "My mother said that you had asked her if I had a crush on you, why didn't you tell me if you already knew?"

Sophia furrowed her brows, blinking in confusion. "I didn't ask her anything of the sorts"

"But, Miss Alma also told me you knew about the rumors about me..."

"The rumors, yes, these are hard to miss, but I never asked anything to Miss Seventy-Seven"

Sophia could feel Thirty-Seven's anger grow, to prevent any incidents, she had an idea.

"How about you come with me to get some coffee? After all, I walked out because I needed something to drink" That's a lie, but a harmless one, to save whatever pride the girl had left.

"Yes-- wait, why coffee?"

"Regulus' recommendation... Don't get mad at her and come with me, please"

And so, Sophia attempted to distract Thirty-Seven from her mother's betrayal, two times already. This would be considered a date, but Thirty-Seven wanted something that could feel more warm, more romantic.

Preferably, without any help from her mother.

[pvremichigan]

Whoopsie time

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A drawing of two scavengers from Rain World, one labelled Sanic and the other one Shrek. Sanic's fur is light brown, with darker extremities, a messy row of pale green spines down its back, and bright blue eyes. They sit contentedly, staring at the screen, with a couple grenades by its feet. Shrek has pale fur, a green head, hands, and feet, and brown eyes. It's facing to the right, with their arms splayed out and an explosive spear on their back. Beside each scavenger are a few woefully-compressed screencaps of their in-game appearance. End ID]

An ode to these silly beasts, who accompanied me on my second visits to Industrial and Chimney

[mashmouths]

is it an adhd thing to need to reinvent the concept of a study space so you have any chance of actually studying or just a facet of being alive that no one warned me about

[lvllns]

there’s something very comforting in going from talking on skype until three in the morning almost every day to reaching out once every few months and yet. it feels like nothing has changed.

[moonlight-prose]

“please don’t make me say it if you aren’t going to say it back” with a desperately in love with joel reader would hit so much…

weaved around your finger like yarn

a/n: me writing for joel again?? this has sat in my inbox for over a year and i never meant to actually take this long with it. but i finally figured out how to write this concept. and now i am actually obsessed with the small world of softness i created for these two. this is yes jackson joel, but nothing bad happens ever to him because why would it? it's all fine right?

summary: he never made space in his life for love in the aftermath of destruction. the after of his life he once thought would extend past decades of gray hair, smile lines carved in around his mouth now set in frowns and sneers. but snowfall and alcohol blur the lines for both of you when winter comes to jackson.

word count: 1.6k+

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: not explicit, love confessions, heavy makeout sessions, alcohol consumption, tipsy joel, sad joel, laughter at the end of the world, hope.

He can't remember laughing until his stomach hurt. The ache that spilled into his chest, warming his insides with a sun like quality that left him shivering. He can't recall the feel of his cheeks pulled so wide the sensation became a phantom pain seconds after. He knows it happened. He can distinctly recall the jokes, the joy. But the laughter lingers like a ghost at the back of his mind—translucent and gray and distorted enough to feel false.

Alcohol simmers in his stomach with a rueful intent. A malignant aftermath that would hit him in a few hours after two months of attempted sobriety. Ellie insisted, he accepted. Easy enough to say. Difficult to follow through with.

He had his days where whiskey sounded better than the flavor of bacon Tommy would bring him in the early mornings. But the dismay in your eyes helped him hold off, regain his awareness of a world not yet shattered. For once in quite a long time...he finally lived. For you, for Ellie, for Sarah.

He lived to see his hair grow longer and the grays appear more frequently. To drink coffee in the mornings on a porch you were already settled on. To help you fix small things here and there in your cabin next door. He lived for your smile, the light in your eyes. The curve of your lips as they pulled up into bolstering peals of laughter—the furrow in your brow as you frowned from endless frustrations on long hard days.

Joel Miller lived to love you.

He existed to dig his heels in and wait shit out—it's what he was good at, what he knew how to do. But for you he relented quicker than ice on a hot asphalt driveway back home in Texas. His mind became sand that slipped through your giving hands—heart a fluttering mess that sang a tune he could never get right on the guitar stashed in his living room.

Days bloomed into weeks which grew into months. Eventually a year passed and what used to be difficult and awkward to be around people again, felt like breathing the fresh winter air. The jackets he managed to find hung on hooks by the door, a pair of heavy boots beside the small table Tommy crafted him.

The mornings were nice. When hot water hit ground coffee and the aroma plagued his kitchen for hours at a time. The evenings called you towards him—simple cooking skills shared in the confines of a home he pined for you to reside in.

Life was a sliver of peace he never imagined he'd get again. But the hole in his heart never faded, the pain still rang out sharp enough to have him clamping down on the inside of his cheek. And your smile made his stomach ache with a longing deep enough to scar.

Tommy told him to buck up and do something. Ellie called him a fucking idiot.

You...gave no indication you felt the same way. So silent and reserved he would remain.

Your feet slid on icy, fingers gripping tightly to his jacket with a yelp in a quick attempt to save yourself from slamming to the ground. Joel snickered loud and brash and a wash of embarrassment burned under frozen cheeks. Dragging you up, his arm looped tightly around your waist—hand pressed harsh and insistent to the small of your back. You swallowed the butterflies at the sight of his face flushed red—eyes shining from the effect of too much whiskey.

"We were bad tonight," you muttered, breath forming a cloud between your faces.

He grinned—skin buzzing at the close proximity of your form. "Only a little bit."

"You're not supposed to drink Joel."

Leaning in he traded his smile like a secret; you tucked it into your chest with a sharp breath. "I won't tell if you don't, darlin'."

"Joel..."

"C'mon. No one's gettin' in trouble here."

A blade pierced your heart brutally—spilling crimson along pale white snow. Even as Joel remained entirely unaware of how you clung to him. How your body called his name—your mind plagued with thoughts of his being, with images of his smile, with the sound of his raspy voice. He'd never know the way you cherished each moment with him. The mornings tucked away from an unruly world—the nights shared between friends who might one day be more.

Your teeth scraped along the cracked skin of your bottom lip, eyes cast up to the curl of his lips. The words sprang forth faster than you could drag them back. Your chest of secrets unlocked and bared to the man who drowned you in his small flecks of joy. Later you'd blame the alcohol. When the headache ravaged your head and an ache lingered between your thighs.

Later you'd comb over every small glance and breathy word.

"I like spending time with you Joel," you breathed, fingers toying with the front of his leather coat. "I like...um..."

The breath caught in his throat, gaze desperate to catch yours. "Yeah sugar?"

"It's a hard thing to say." Another cloud of your whiskey tinged breath filled the air.

"You can tell me anythin'. You know that right?" Even as hope flared bright and scorching through the width of his chest. "I'll listen."

Hesitation spilled into the night, your voice a soft whisper he barely caught. "Please don't make me say it if you aren't going to say it back."

Oh didn't you know?

Did you not see how his gaze dug beneath the layers of flesh and bone, of tendons and veins that clung to your form? Did you not understand he would take a bullet for you? That he'd bear the wound of a warrior's death to keep you alive? How could you not know that his love stuck to his tongue with a saccharine bitterness he swallowed down like the drugs he once took to numb his mind?

You healed pieces of his soul you never broke. A marred and fucked puzzle that was meant to find a home six feet underground. By his own hand no less. He was destined to die—born to suffer—yet you swathed him wool with the promise of a peaceful life.

A future etched by the hands of love.

"Say it," he pleaded, frozen hand cupping your cheek.

"It's more than just that." The breath you took shot adrenaline down his spine. "I like our mornings. I like our dinners and conversation. And even when you come into town with me. But I...I love..."

The glossy nature of your eyes created by unshed tears that pooled at your waterline dug the knife deep enough to meld it within his heart. You didn't know. You couldn't have. His silence, his hesitation, swallowed every emotion he might have told you—every secret uttered in the shadows of night that told only half his story.

He told you about Sarah. About their life together, about her smile. That in itself felt like a proclamation of love—a key to the heart he thought stopped beating long ago.

"I knew it would freak you out," you muttered, pulling away from his hold.

Only for him to panic. His hand gripped the back of your jacket, pushing you towards him hard enough for your feet to slip again. But your gasp was swallowed by the cold press of his mouth to yours. Lips chapped by the winter air slid against your parted mouth as you froze against his chest. Your hands hung listlessly at your sides. He kissed you tenderly, attempting to wake you from the spell of shock, but to no avail did it bring you back.

"'M sorry." His words were muffled against your chin, forehead pressed to yours and eyes squeezed shut. "I shouldn't have–"

The press of your fingers into his cheeks jolted him back—eyes wide as you dragged him back with a stifled moan. Your mouth found his tongue hot and wet along his bottom lip in a pleading motion he complied to instantly. Stepping forward he fell into you with a deep groan. One that echoed and vibrated right down to your stomach—one you savored with a lick along his back teeth.

Hands cupped your ass with an insistent need to mold you closer, fingers digging into the plush flesh he longed to bite and taste. You tasted like whiskey. You smelled like him. It made him dizzy with want, anxious to lead you back to his porch—to seat you on his kitchen counter in the mornings while the coffee went cold.

"Fuck I wanna take ya home sugar," he grunted, biting at your lower lip with a grin.

Your breathless reply made the hair stand on the back of his neck. "You can."

"No." He shook his head, stealing another kiss with a gritty moan. "Not tonight. 'M gonna do this proper."

"Proper," you smiled, tugging on the longer curls you refused to let him cut. "You're such an old man Miller."

The large breadth of his hand cupped your chin, pushing the cheeks he lightly bit into together. "Won't be sayin' that tomorrow when I ain't got all this fuckin' alcohol in me."

"Yeah?" The droop of your eyelids—the darkened iris now filled with lust—set his teeth on edge. His body hummed with a new buzz he craved since meeting you. "Prove it."

"Oh I will." He grinned sharply, licking his teeth like a wolf waiting to pounce. "Don't you worry 'bout that."

A glimmer in your eyes caught his attention, the grip on your face loosening. "You know I love you right darlin'?"

You smiled—big and bright—and Joel felt another piece of his soul set back into place. "I love you too Joel."

[nochepsicodelica]

It's two in the morning and you're knocking on your own front door after a night out with your friends. Your mind has been occupied by static, not allowing you to remember that you have a key to let yourself in, so you stand there alone, waiting to be let in. You plant your hand on the wall to keep yourself balanced, looking left and right to see if anybody or any car is looking at you as they pass by.

Just as you're about to knock, again, the door opens and you flinch, your other hand flying to the wall to remain steady on your feet. You look up at your man with warped vision, blinking a little to try and clear your view of him. You can't contain your laughter when you see the stern look on Toji's face, his green eyes laced with concern you can't process in this state.

"What the fuck..." Toji mutters, to himself. What kind of friends would just drop you off without making sure that you get inside your house, safely? It's late. Who knows how long you had been standing there before you knocked. Anyone could have snatched you away.

Toji will catch you. You know he'll catch you if you just lean forward into him, like a backwards trust fall, so you set the plan in motion. You drag your feet and move your hands along the wall until you're in the safe zone, and then you just fall forward.

"Woah, hey." He's quick to hold you up against him, to prevent you from sliding down his body and to the floor. "Hey, you good? Talk to me. Can you walk?" Toji doesn't receive much of a response from you. Just quiet little giggles and incoherent mumbles. He sighs and picks you up, draping you over his shoulder. The door is shut and locked, before he makes his way to the bedroom. The light is already on, because he was awake the entire time, awaiting your arrival. Toji sets you down on the bed and briefly sits on the edge, by your feet.

"You didn't answer my calls, and I texted you like twenty times." He lifts your feet and takes their place, before setting them down on his lap so that you are comfortable. His fingers make haste of undoing the buckles on your high heels and he sets the shoes down, placing them under the bed.

You simply hum in response, not entirely sure of how you got to the room. The light is so bright and it's irritating your eyes, making it hard for you to hold them open.

"Told you to let me know if you needed me to pick you up, dummy." Toji wraps his hands around one of your ankles, his fingers kneading with little pressure, incase the area is tender.

"N-Nooo, i'm... here. Here," you babble.

It's so frustrating to be unable to get a full explanation out of you, right now. Your responses are borderline illogical and it's not doing Toji any good. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He can't calm down, after he spent the last few hours wondering why you stopped responding to him and why you weren't answering his calls. To open the door and instantly get a whiff of your night out was enraging, not because you got extremely intoxicated, but because there was no one looking out for you by the end of your time out.

Toji understands that there is no point in digging into this, now. You can't even walk or see straight, so he settles for making simple conversation that you can easily digest.

"Did your phone die or something?"

You shake your head, side to side, and his blood boils all over again. This was supposed to be an easy conversation, but he was just so damn worried. His entire body is tense with concern.

"Fuck." He sighs, nodding slightly at your response. "Yeah, okay."

A few seconds of silence go by and Toji thinks you may have fallen asleep, but then you speak up, out of nowhere, again.

"Took lots of pictures..." you mumble, eyes closed as you dig into your pocket for your phone. Once it's in your hand, you toss it on the bed for Toji to grab. He puts your massage on hold and picks up your phone, unlocking it and going to your photo gallery, where immediately, he sees previews of the pictures of you and those so called "friends" who abandoned you on your doorstep. The only reason he cares for those group photos is because you're smiling widely, seemingly laughing, and overall looking extremely happy in every one of them, but as much as he loves the look on your face in those, he loves the pictures you took of yourself and the ones your friends took of you, more. Some you had already sent to him, others he hadn't seen until then, so he sent those pictures to himself.

Toji turns your phone off and sets it aside, before grabbing ahold of your other ankle and repeating the same treatment that he did for the first one.

"There was... ugh..." you sweep away some strands of hair that almost went into your mouth. "A man. I dropped my phone and he- and he got too close behind me when I bent down to pick it up." You nod, with your eyes as wide as they can be in this state, like you're trying to prove that you aren't lying by looking him straight in his eyes.

"That's fucking disgusting, mama." Toji's eyebrows furrow, discomfort written all over his face with this new information you revealed. He squeezes your ankle a little tighter, his mind beginning to cloud with thoughts of never letting you go out without him again, but before he even thinks of spilling these thoughts to you, he asks you the most important questions.

"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"

"Mm-mm, no." You shake your head as quickly as you can without getting dizzy. "Saw his legs behind my legs and I got up and gave him this look..." You furrow your brows and lid your eyes, a gaze that doesn't seem intimidating or warning enough, now, after so many drinks. Your face quickly relaxes after and you roll your eyes with a tired sigh. "Yup, that was the face I made and then I walked away," you say, your attitude more upbeat.

"Did he leave you alone?" Toji asks, hoping nothing more happened. If there is more, he'll have you describe this man to the best of your ability, and he will hunt him down until he can positively assure that he's no longer part of the world's population.

"Yeahhh, don't know where he went." You hum like you're trying to remember, as if you even have that knowledge. You walked away and didn't turn back around, something that finally concludes your brief inability to recall. "Think he got lost." You giggle.

"Good. I'm glad," Toji says. You hum in agreement, and your eyes fall shut, gracing you with two seconds of sleep before your head nods and you wake up, again. Your bashful smile evolves into a short laugh, one that has Toji smiling at how precious you are. "You tired, mama?"

You nod and blink slowly in response, fighting the urge to shut your eyes for longer. Your lips curl into a lazy smile, when Toji presses a kiss to your ankle, before he moves your feet and sets them on the bed so he can get up.

"Let's get you ready for bed, then."

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- the aha moment

or...how they realize they're in love with you

seungcheol doesn't get that aha moment, falling in love isn't something that happens within seconds for him. it's like he's slowly drifting into love, not even realizing you've become the focal point of his entire existence. when it finally hits him, it's a quiet, simple moment. he's watching you make him breakfast in the morning, admiring you quietly from the kitchen counter. he zones out for a moment, blinking suddenly and realizing damn. that's my woman. and he knows he's ruined for life.

it's kind of silly, how jeonghan realizes he's in love with you. he's just returned home from a busy day at work, entering the house to find it empty. searching the place top to bottom, he's about to call you when - BOO - you jump out from one of the closets and scares the soul out of him. he's clutching his chest, watching as you collapse onto the ground in a fit of giggles. he can't help but laugh along, realizing through the chaos that he's found his soulmate, and he'd be damned not to admit he's in love with you.

joshua's a simple man by nature. he's easily happy in life, only needing his members, his job, his lifestyle, and of course, you. it doesn't take long into your relationship before he realizes he's in love, as the two of you take a stroll along the Han River after a long day. he's watching the setting sun reflect against your figure, taking his phone out to snap a few pictures. it's when he notices his camera roll is full of pictures of you does he think well, that's it. i'm in love.

upon meeting his family, jun notices how much work you've put into it. you're doing your best to speak his town's dialect, communicating with his parents in a language that made them most comfortable. his heart swells when he sees you amidst his childhood home, trading stories and eating with the people who raised him. it's when he notes that you look so perfect here that he realizes you just fit. he's in love.

as if everything else is with soonyoung, his aha moment is full of fireworks and pizzazz. having just finished the most record breaking performance of his life, he finds himself with one thought only: i want to go home. usually, it's because he's tired. but now, ever since you stumbled into his life, he finds himself wanting, needing, to go home so he can hold you and recite everything that happened today. he's practically thrumming with energy to rush home, and everyone around him sees what is so painfully obvious. he's so in love.

wonwoo's always credited himself to be a loner. not a lot of people can fit with his quiet personality, so when you offer the idea of "parallel play" he's a little confused. his heart warms when you explain that you don't mind doing separate things as long as you're in the same area, understanding that he needs more time to himself than others might. it's when you tell him you love him enough to compromise does he think im so in love with this girl right now.

woozi's used to writing songs dedicated to his fans and members. he sits down for another writing session, brainstorming ideas and the thought of you pops into his mind. he shrugs, thinking it might be nice to mix it up a bit, sitting down to write something about you. it's when he reads his own words back does he realize he's irrevocably screwed and so in love with you. thought about settling down, buying her a house and saying screw the music. yeah, he's in love.

having always been a realist, minghao doesn't necessary believe in true love, or love at first sight. he understands there's going to be someone out there for him, but he's skeptical that that someone is going to be perfect. all his beliefs go out the window the moment he sees you - it's like you're surrounded by a golden glow - and he realizes maybe love at first sight can be real.

seokmin loves and gives as easy as breathing. he's always been a generous guy, and it's when you sit him down and kindly remind him to leave some for himself does he stare at you and realize ok i've found the one. you've become that steadiness in his life that used to be just his members, and you love and give to him like it's as simple as breathing too.

having always been the resident cook, mingyu's eyeing your food creation like it's some kind of poison or drug. he had insisted you didn't need to cook for him, he's always been the cook and doesn't mind it, but you were stubborn and he relented. it's when the first bite blows him away does he realize he kinda misses having someone cook for him too. if you're this good at cooking i might just have to marry you, he says, ignoring how you blush, going back for another bite.

seungkwan's always been the entertainer. he doesn't mind it, he enjoys the fact it's his job to make everyone laugh. but when times get tough and he's in no mood to be the entertainer, you're right there to support him. it's when he gets home to you after a particularly rough day and you welcome him in with open arms, murmuring how he's done well and doesn't need to do more. it's when he realizes he can just be seungkwan - not seungkwan the entertainer, but just seungkwan - and he loves you for that.

vernon never really thought about finding the one. he always just assumed that they would find him. and that's exactly what happens, when you bump into each other at the movie theatre - both there alone just cause. it's when you're enthusiastically going band for band with vernon about movies that he's forced with the realization that shit. maybe i have found the one.

chan's always known he was in love with you. he doesn't like to admit it cause he thinks it makes him sound sappy, but he truly never questioned his love for you. it was a simple thing in his mind - this person makes me so fucking happy - i must be in love. and how could it not be simple for him? he's staring at you quipping about some joke to his friends and he's thinking i love you. he's watching you just wake up from a nap and he's thinking i love you. he sees a text from you on his phone mid-dance practice. i love you. he's always been in love with you because he loves everything to do with you.