#so technically she is more than the help but i love her

[etherfraisie]

Sunset

Sylus x fem!reader

A bet for dinner turned into something more precious

word count: 1.148 words

note: this was written with fem!reader in mind but no Y/N is used and can also be used for OCs. leaving a comment is greatly appreciated! happy reading<3

--***--

“I know you love a bet.”

“And I know you hate when I go easy on you.”

They had been halfway through an auction when they decided to just ditch it for a walk at the beach. Sylus even left his motorcycle at the auction’s parking lot because she insisted that she wanted to walk to the beach, but then again, even if his motorcycle were to be stolen, he will get it back one way or another. 

They reached the beach a few minutes ago, now walking towards the shore. She kicks her heels off and just leaves it there as she walks faster towards the water, Sylus picks up her heels before following behind her not too far. As her feet touch the water, she looks back to her beloved. “Take off your shoes, will you? Feel the water, it’s refreshing!”

“I’m sure the drinks at the auction are more refreshing than sea water, Sweetie.” But even then, he stops to do as she told him to before joining at her side to admire the ocean. There’s a comfortable silence between them, one they are used to. Sylus, as much as he enjoys listening to his beloved talk about her day, enjoys the silence they share together the same amount. In truth, Sylus wouldn’t mind doing anything as long as his beloved is there. He would drop everything in a heartbeat if her beloved ever just says she wants to live a simple life in the countryside. 

“Last one to reach those big rocks has to pay for dinner tonight!” she suddenly says. Sylus looks at the direction she’s pointing. He can see a couple of big rocks not too far from them but still far enough to be quite a run from where they’re standing.

“You’re on,” he says as he smirks, amused at her competitiveness.

“On the count of three!”

“One… two–” but before Sylus could finish counting down, she’s already started to run. Sylus just shakes his head and laughs at the display of childishness and then joins her to run towards the appointed rocks as the finish line. Although, he’s not much on trying to win and just wants to catch up with her. But that doesn’t mean he wants to let her win just like that. He picks up his speed, easily catching up to her until he runs in front of her. He only meant to tease, because in his mind, a few feet before reaching the rocks, he plans to slow down. Making sure she thinks he’s running out of stamina and she’s able to win over him. He’s already set to pay for the dinner the moment she placed that bet anyways. But he never gets the chance to do his grand scheme of slowing down, because not long after he’s running in front of her, he hears a loud thud and her groan following quickly.

Perhaps there’s a sharp clam or rocks that she accidentally steps on. It pierces through her foot, causing her to lose balance and trips on her own leg. To put salt on her wounds, she scrapes her knees as she falls and sprains her ankle. Sylus didn’t waste a single second to be at her side, helping her into a comfortable position and then checking on her wounds. She lets out a strain laugh to light up the panic in Sylus’s eyes but it doesn’t seem to help.

“Can you walk?” he asks her as he wipes off some sand that sticks to her legs.

“Well, technically I can, just a bit slower,” she answers him sheepishly.

Sylus then quickly shifts to offer his back to her, “I’ll carry you. I won’t take no.”

Reluctantly, although deep down she enjoys being pampered by him, she circles her arms around his neck and raises her legs a bit so that he can hold onto the underside of her thighs to carry her. He then stands up and starts walking to the rocks again, his beloved safely being carried on his back, and both of their shoes he carries on both his hands.

“I guess I’ll pay for dinner tonight,” she says, filling up the silence.

“Who says I've won already?” Sylus responds to her in a teasing tone. Before she can ask what he meant, Sylus already turns his back. He’s walking backwards. It took her a few seconds to realize what he’s trying to do. She laughs when it finally dawns at her.

“Is this your pity excuse so that you can pay for dinner?” She pinches his cheek.

“Whatever you mean by that?” Sylus smiles, not really putting much effort in avoiding her question. “Look, it’s sunset already.”

She looks to the side. The sun has just touched the sea and is slowly sinking down as he keeps walking backwards. The orange hues surround them, making everything seem warm, which it is. She loves soft moments like this with him. Where they’re both aren’t tied with the responsibility of their jobs for a short time. Where no one is around to see how calm he is right now. No one shall see this side of him. No one but her.

She tightens her arms to hug his neck tighter and nuzzles her cheek to his hair, smelling her shampoo that he used earlier today cause he had just ran out on his own and he hadn’t had the time to buy another. She would’ve scolds him for using her shampoo, but truth be told, she likes to share her own stuff with her beloved. She would never admit that though, so she flicks her finger to the side of his temple. “You used my shampoo didn’t you?”

“I did. I like the smell.”

“I don’t remember allowing you to use it.”

“I asked before I use it, Sweetie. You were busy with Mephisto but you said yes anyway.”

“Guess I didn’t really pay attention.” She slumps to his shoulder, lips pouting.

“If you’re worried about your shampoo running out, I don’t mind buying it for you. We’re running out of necessities at home anyway, so we’re due for grocery shopping.” He leans his head to hers, a small attempt at reassuring her. “We’ll go after dinner.”

“You’re so kind to me,” she says barely above whisper, but he heard her nonetheless.

“It’s nothing, Sweetheart. It’s the least I can do.”

Sylus then stops as they’re reaching the rocks. She turns her body slightly so she’s able to touch the rock. She then hugs him again. “Dinner time!”

He laughs at her enthusiasm. “I see it is less about who pays for dinner and more about eating that dinner itself.”

“Come on, let’s go. Are you not starving?”

“Hold on, Sweetie, we still have to patch up those wounds you have.”

“Fine, but after that, we go straight to dinner!”

“Ofcourse, Sweetheart.”

[kpop---scenarios]

Whispers Of The Night (3)

Pairing: Stray Kids x Reader

Genre: Vampire! Au, College! Au

Summary: You just want to live a happy life, but currently, that wasn't happening. It's not until you meet 8 strangers who turn your life upside down and you discover what they are.

Warning: Mentions of blood, Drinking, Violence [this is an 18+ story; will contain smut in future chapters]

Word Count: 3k

A/N: AND AS ALWAYS THANK YOU @skzdust FOR YOUR HELP I'M ETERNALLY GRATEFUL BESTIE

Taglist: @steddie-steddie @hongtyong @purple-bell

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon

@dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

@satosugu4l @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @iovecb97

@1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat

@pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog

@anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr

@jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @ayyonoona @31maze13

@stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited @hoesheez

@stayatinykatsy @catlove83 @jeonginstulip @kaleigh-2002

@honeycombbaybee @hyuneyeon @flylis @kpop-choco

@chloe-elise-2000 @eastjonowhere @stephanieeeyang

Part One | Part Two

The two days that you spent at the SKZ house, as they called it, were… interesting to say the least. You woke up on the earlier side to make sure you had enough time to get to class, and each day they were all awake, watching TV, working out, doing homework. You'd offer to make them breakfast as you made your own, but they all claimed to have eaten just after they woke up. There were no dishes in the sink, the same amount of food in the fridge. Not to mention their beds were always made up the same every morning. You'd never met college guys who were so… put together. It was throwing you off a little.

“So.” Sam smiles. “These guys you stayed with for a couple nights… any chance you're going to move on from Mark?” She asks.

You can't help it, but you roll your eyes at her question. You still weren't sure what you were going to do about him. You hadn't confronted him, fuck, tou hadn't even spoken to him since San dropped that ball on you the other day. While there was an attraction to, well, let's be honest, all of them, you technically, were still Mark's girlfriend, so the chance of you doing anything was even lower than zero. You weren't a cheater, you never understood the desire to hurt the person you're supposed to love most in this world but that's more than you can say for Mark.

“I mean, yeah they're all extremely attractive.” You laugh. “But I'm still with Mark, and until I figure out what I'm going to be doing, I won't be doing anything with them.” You murmur.

“Them!?” Sam gasps. “You wanna fuck them all.” She laughs. “I always knew you were fucking kinky.”

“Sam!” You laugh. “Jesus christ.”

The two of you laugh, finishing up your makeup, before getting dressed and heading out. Sam had wanted to get ready at the house with the boys, but with all the testosterone radiating in that house, you needed out for a few hours. Luckily for the both of you, Sam's parents were out of the evening so you had the house to yourselves.

“Come on, some shots before we go.” She says, walking into the kitchen. She grabs two shots glasses, pouring you each a shot of vodka.

“We cannot show up sober. A few shots each should do the trick.” She laughs.

You don't say anything, instead welcome the liquid burning your throat as you take shot after shot, desperately hoping for it to erase all your problems for at least one night. Once you were feeling tipsy enough, you and Sam got into your Uber, heading over to the boy's house. When you pull up, the party is already in full swing. There are people out in the front yard drinking, the front door is wide open, welcoming anyone and everyone to join.

“Wow.” Sam gasps. “This looks crazy!”

You laugh, grabbing her hand, pulling her towards the front door. The moment you stepped foot into the house, it was like all 8 of them knew you were there. Very quickly and one by one, they came up to you, giving you a hug to say hi and saying hi to Sam. By the time Minho, who was the last one to come up to you, said hi, Sam had smacked you so many times you thought you'd have a bruise in the shape of her hand on your arm for sure.

“Let's get a drink.” You murmur, pulling her towards the kitchen, not letting her say what you knew she desperately wanted too.

“They're all so fucking hot.” She yells into your ear as you're pouring you both drinks. You laugh as your stomach twists with anxiety. Yes they were, and you were definitely having troubles with that. As the two of you take a couple sips of your drinks, you begin to hear what sounds like a commotion in the living room.

“I know she's here, and I dont fucking appreciate you forcing her to live here! I'm her fucking boyfriend… me!” You hear.

Your stomach drops.

“Mark.” You whisper.

“Don't go out there. Just stay here. Maybe he'll leave.” Sam says. At this point the music had been turned way down, and everyone was crowding around all 8 men and Mark. You knew he wouldn't leave. He was too fucking stubborn. You pushed your way through the crowd of people until you stood beside Hyunjin, who glanced over at you, worriedly.

“What the fuck, y/n.” Mark snaps, motioning to the men. “So what, you're just out here being a whore now?” He asks.

Hyunjin steps forward, but Jeongin pulls him back. “Excuse me?” You ask. “No, I just figured we were done since you can't keep your dick in your pants.” You snap back.

“What the hell are you even talking about?” Mark groans, rolling his eyes.

“San told me, don't play fucking dumb.” You spit. “You never stopped seeing Chae, even after begging, and crying on your knees for me to stay.” You yell.

You wanted to laugh along with those laughing in the crowd, while Mark looked embarrassed.

“Why would I still see her if I told you I only wanted you?” He asks.

“Why would San lie about that? He's your best friend.” You say.

“Yeah, my best friend who's… in…love with you!” Mark mutters.

“What?” You respond. There was no way. Absolutely no way. You'd never gotten those vibes from San, not in the two years that you had been with Mark.

“Why else would he say that?” Mark asks. “Think about it.”

“I am thinking about it, and you're full of shit.” You laugh. “There's no way that San feels like that.”

“I don't feel like what?” San asks, pushing his way through the crowd.

“Mark here says that you lied about Chae, because you're in love with me.” You say. The alcohol you had drank was making you more courageous than you'd ever been in your life. Sober you would never.

“What the fuck?” San laughs. “No offense, y/n but I have a girlfriend that I love very much.” He says. “And Mark's known about her since we started dating, a year and a half ago.”

You turn your head, glaring at Mark, who in turn is glaring at San.

“Interesting.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.

“Whatever, this isn't a conversation that should happen around others.” Mark scoffs. He grabs your wrist, yanking you towards him. “C'mon, let's go home.” He says.

“You know what, Mark?” You begin. “No.” You say, trying to free your wrist from his grasp.

“Y/n, now is not the time.” He snaps, looking around the room.

“I'm done. We're done. I don't trust you anymore. You've done nothing but lie to me. It's over.” You yell, pulling as hard as you can to free yourself.

“What's going on?” You hear from behind you, a familiar voice echoing through the almost silent room.

“Mark, you're hurting me!” You whine. Your wrist is beginning to throb and ache as you try to free yourself.

“Let her go.” You hear the same voice. Suddenly, Chan is beside you, his hand on top of Mark's. Chan didn't look like he was putting in any effort, but Mark's gave away how much pain he was in. Chan rips Mark's hand from around your wrist, pushing him back. Mark falls down to the floor.

“You're sleeping with him aren't you? Fucking whore.” Mark screams. Chan chuckles, taking two steps towards Mark, punching him in the face. You can hear the thump from his body dropping to the floor followed by the cries as he holds his face.

“We're not done! You won't find anyone like me! You're mine!” Mark screams.

Chan turns around to face you, and you weren't sure if it was because he saved you, or you were drunk, maybe a bit of both. But you walked up to him, grabbed his face, and quickly pressed your lips to his. Chan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in closer. You can hear Mark swearing as San pulls him out the front door.

You break away from the kiss. You can't look Chan in the eyes. You turn away, your eyes now searching for Sam, and when you find her, her eyes are wide with a giant smile on her face. You push through the crowd, leaving Chan standing there as you grab her arm, dragging her into the kitchen. You open a bottle of something, you don't even care what it is. You put the bottle to your lips, chugging it, ignoring the burning sensation in your throat.

“Bitch.” Sam gasps as you put the bottle back down onto the counter, breathing heavily.

“Did I just do that?” You ask, staring at your best friend.

“Yeah.” She laughs. “Yes you did.”

“Oh my god.” You groan, drinking a little more.

“Okay, alright.” She laughs, taking the bottle from your hand. “Let's not black out.” She murmurs. It was too late. You were already gone.

The next morning, you wake up with the worst headache in the world. Sleeping on the couch for the last few days definitely did not help your body when it desperately needed to recover. You were sore, stiff and felt like you'd been run over by a truck. And then you remembered ending things with Mark.

“Fuck.” You gasp, dropping your head into your hands.

“Everything okay, beautiful?” Hyunjin asks, walking into the living room, plopping down onto the couch beside you.

“I broke up with Mark.” You murmur.

“It's about time, y/n.” Jeongin chimes in.

“Yeah, honestly. He's fucking awful, and that's coming from me.” Seungmin chuckles.

“Yeah, no, I know he was. But I just… I don't know what to do now.” You say. “All my stuff is there… and I have nowhere to go.”

“The fuck are we then? Did we become temporary housing and no one told me?” Minho asks. “You've been here for days, y/n. Let's just go get your stuff and make it official.” Changbin smiles.

“That's really sweet you guys… but.” You trail off.

“But what? You can't live with 8 guys?” Felix laughs.

“I can't sleep on this fucking couch anymore.” You fake cry. “My back… it hurts so bad.”

Everyone laughs.

“Well, it's a good thing there's a bedroom ready for you then.” Chan smiles.

You hadn't seen him since you kissed him. That you remembered very, very vividly, and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. In what world would any of these gods like men, actually like you?

“Wait.” You pause, thinking about what Chan said. “A bedroom?” You ask.

“Of course.” He smiles. “You think we'd ask you to move in here and make you sleep on the couch?” Han laughs. “I mean… Seungmin or Minho might but not the rest of us.”

“You're not wrong.” Seungmin smiles.

“Wow.” You laugh. “Thank you guys.”

“Let’s not get all sappy here.” Minho mumbles. “Can we go get your stuff now?”

“Yeah.” You smile.

The nine of you get ready to head over to your old shared apartment with Mark, unsure of what was going to happen.

You stood outside the door, the number 7 on the door looked different, even though it had only been a few days. You took a deep breath, glancing over at the 8 men that were waiting a little down the hall. You had told them that you needed to do this part by yourself. You were worried that if he opened the door and all of them were standing there, he might end up in a fit of rage. Though, you should have known better that he would end up in one regardless. You knocked on the door, putting your hands behind your back as you waited for him to answer. The door was pulled open, and Mark looked shocked to see you, before a smug ‘I knew she would be back’ look spread across his face.

“Y/N.” He breathes. You put your hand up to stop him from saying whatever he wanted to next.

“I'm just here to grab my stuff.” You explain, avoiding any eye contact with him. He doesn't move out of your way. You want to go inside and start packing the things that belong to you but he stands there still staring.

“Y/N.” He says in a low tone. “Don't be like that, baby.” He smiles. “C'mon. You know you wanna come back home.”

“Actually, what I'd like, is for you to get the fuck out of my way so I can get my stuff and go.” You say, giving Mark your best, annoyed smile.

“And if I don't?” He asks. “If I don't get out of your way? Then what? You gonna punch me like your little boyfriend did?” He mocks.

“No.” You sigh. “But they might hit you.” You say, motioning down the hallway. Mark peeks his head around the door frame, seeing 8 angry and annoyed looking men leaning against the wall.

“You’re such a bitch.” He mumbles, stepping out of your way. You smile, waving to the guys to come with you inside.

You walk past Mark, and can hear him grumbling as each man steps inside. They're all taller, more muscular, better looking, smarter, and funnier than Mark was, and he knew it too.

“Lets get this done, and get the fuck out of here.” You say, everyone scatters to tackle a room. It took the nine of you 4.5 hours, and a trillion questions about what was yours, for you all to finally finish. Mark didn't help at all, and that wasn't a surprise. He didn't want you to leave or leave him, and he was sure to continuously let you know throughout the afternoon.

“Y/N, wait.” Mark says, as you follow the guys out of the apartment. You don't wait, until he grabs your wrist again.

“Let go.” You spit. “This didn't end well for you the last time and it won't end well this time either.”

“Just wait a fucking minute.” He grumbles. “Don't go. Stay with me. Please.”

“No.” You deadpan. “I have no interest in being lied to or cheated on any longer. I hope I never see you again.”

You rip your wrist from his grip, walking down the hall.

“I'll have you again! You'll see! You'll be back when they inevitably kick your ass out!” He screams.

If only he knew how that would never happen.

“Ready?” Changbin asks, grinning from ear to ear. His hand was on the door knob for your room, and honestly you were so excited.

“Yes! Please open it.” You say, nearly falling over from excitement. He turns the knob, opening the door and your jaw is almost on the floor. It was exactly your style, a nice queen bed sitting in the middle of the room that was painted your favorite color. Everything matched, every single part of the room was your exact vibe and you were eternally grateful.

You had put a lot of your stuff in storage, since they had all told you that you wouldn't need a lot of it. To be honest you thought they were full of shit, but here they were, definitely not full of shit.

“We'll let you get settled.” Chan smiles, ushering the men to leave you be.

“Thank you guys. Really. I love it.” You smile.

It felt weird. To have people who truly cared for you like they did. You were worried that they would turn on you, because that seems to be the trend for people in your life. Your mom, dad, Mark, past friends. There was always something that made them leave you. You already felt a strong bond with all 8 of them, so you hoped nothing like that would happen but honestly, you can never truly prepare for the future.

That night, you sat outside on the front porch by yourself, wrapped in one of your new blankets from your new room. It was almost entirely pitch black out, almost silent except for the sounds of cars passing and the faint sounds of people walking by. The only light you had was the cherry from your roach, each time you took a puff, as well as the stars that scattered throughout the sky. The moon was high, shining down on the trees. It was a truly beautiful night.

You felt so relieved and free tonight. Mark hated when you smoked weed, so you weren't ever able to. But now with him out of the picture, you were excited to be able to partake in your favorite way to relax and unwind. You inhaled a long puff, slowly blowing it back out, enjoying the way it was making you feel. You weren’t very high, but it was enough. You lean your head back, closing your eyes, taking a breath when you hear a noise. A grunt, maybe. Your eyes shoot open, you see Jeongin walking towards the front steps of the house. As he walks closer, you see him more clearly under the front door light. There's blood dripping down his face. Your stomach sinks. He looks mad. You stand up, dropping your blanket on the porch, rushing towards him.

“Hey, Jeongin.” You start, popping up in front of him.

His eyes. They're red.

“Are you okay?” You ask, motioning towards the blood. He doesn't respond. He doesn't move. It doesn't even look like he's breathing. You can feel the tension surrounding you and him. It was making your stomach churn.

He stares at you, it almost feels like his eyes are burning through your skin.

Your eyes close.

When they open, the sun is shining through your window. You're laying in your bed, your blanket, that you dropped covering you.

What the fuck happened last night?

[crazylittlejester]

More about Time and Twi in your modern au pleaaaase 👀

ofc ofc!! i love to talk about these guys :3

- Twilight is Time’s sister’s kid, but she and her husband both passed so Twilight fell into Time’s care when he was 13 months old. Time and Malon are the only parents he’s ever known (he’s always known they’re technically his aunt and uncle, that was never hidden from him, but to him they’re mom and dad and he calls them that). Time and Malon couldn’t have had their own children and were going to be adopting anyway and though initially they’d planned on adopting more than one kid, Twi is an only child

- When he was little, Twi was really just Time’s little buddy. He’d follow him EVERYWHERE and get genuinely very upset if Time didn’t take him with him somewhere, though Malon talking quietly to him and just physically being there was always enough to calm him down again. Daycare did not go very well, the other kids stressed him out too much and he missed Time and Malon so badly he’d sit as close to the door as physically possible and he was just so distressed because he’d been ‘left somewhere’ that after like a month of trying, Time and Malon eventually just kept him on the ranch. Kindergarten also failed miserably, but because the ranch is so far away from things and other people they really really didn’t want to homeschool him because they wanted him to get to interact with other kids so they tried again for first grade and Twi DIDNT spend the entire first day crying so they counted it as a success (though he didn’t say a word to anyone all day, not even the teacher). EVENTUALLY he made a friend (Ilia), but it really did take him a few months before he spoke to anyone at school

- The first time he ever saw the goats Twilight just became OBSESSED with them, and he was too little to do a whole lot to ‘help’ take care of them, but Time would hold him and let him gently pet the goats and call it ‘helping’ so Twi could feel like he did something (ofc as he got older Twi started GENUINELY helping out on the ranch, but little baby Twi got to help by petting goats and it made him happy so Time wasn’t about to take that from him alksdkdk). Time also lifted up baby Twi to pet Epona and Twi just adored her so so much, Time will never be able to not smile at the memory of how big Twi’s eyes got with pure wonder and amazement when he put his little hand on Epona’s nose

- Time is the reason why at eleven years old Twilight was terrified of the muppets. They watched Muppets Most Wanted and Twi (bless his heart) was a little bit scared of it, and Time thought it’d be funny to put a bunch of pictures of evil Kermit all over the house as a joke and Twi ran into one in the dark and well, Time paid for his stupidity by staying up all night with his poor child (Twi’s not scared of the muppets anymore, but his heart WILL start beating faster and he does feel a little anxious if he runs into anything kermit related where he isn’t expecting to)

- Time would not call himself an anxious parent and Malon would very much like to disagree with him because he is SO overly worried about something happening to Twilight after Twilight at nine years old hopped off a horse a little carelessly because he was trying to be cool and ended up tripping, falling, and splitting his head open and poor Time just saw his kid go down and go limp and then there was blood just EVERYWHERE, and another time when Twi was 15 he almost died and Time was the one who was with him then too. Twi doesn’t feel like Time hovers over him by any means, he feels loved and like Time really cares about him, but Time’s genuine fear that Twilight is going to die or get seriously injured in some bizarre accident has led him to check his kid’s location at 3 in the morning (now that Twilight at 21 years old has been living in the apartment with Sky and War for 2 years) to make sure he made it home safely, and he’ll also pace and it drives Malon INSANE (she loves her husband and she understands his anxiety and she really wishes there was something she could do to help him calm down, but HE stresses HER out with the pacing and nervous muttering). Twi is well aware Time has his location, he also has Time and Malon’s and he doesn’t care that they can see where he is. He knows it makes Time feel better to be able to check in on him and also it’s very useful for when he texts and says he’s on his way to the ranch because its a decently long ass drive and then Time and Malon can see how far away he is (Twi also has War and Sky’s locations, and they have his)

- Time paid for Twi’s first tattoo after making him save up for it because he wanted to make sure that Twi was both serious and also going to be financially responsible enough to save for something he wanted while also being able to buy the things he needed, and he let Twi keep the money’d saved for something else. He’s paid for a few others too, and a couple piercings

- Twi really looked like a mini Time growing up. He has a much darker skin tone and brown hair and eyes, but his face shape and like his facial structure are identical to Time’s and the resemblance is so strong people have never doubted Time being his dad (even though he’s technically Twilight’s uncle)

- Twi and Time both have a habit of collecting strays, and they’ll bring them home to Malon and take care of them on the ranch until they can find the animal a nice home or release it back into the wild, though about four dogs now have been kept around because Twi and Time got too attached, as well as a couple cats and one person (War) /hj

[therealcocoshady]

dad!marshall ideaaa

basically reader is also singer and has brought her child into the music show with her and she has to be away for an interview or something and her child wonders off and marshall’s dad instinct takes over when he sees thr child and in the end he hits it off w reader

hopefully this made sense😭

A/N : Hey ! Thank you so much for your request ! I started working on it a while ago and it stood in my WIPs for the longest time but here it is, finally ! I hope you enjoy it ❤️

Backstage babysitting

CW : Dad!Marshall - Fluff 💕

The hum of the backstage was a mix of tech chatter, the faint rumble of a bassline from rehearsals, and the occasional clatter of equipment. Marshall was hanging out backstage, trying to pass the time by thinking of ways to get back at Paul. His manager had convinced him to perform at the VMAs, arguing that the fans would really enjoy it and that it would be great promo for the album and, though he had agreed, he was starting to regret it. The whole thing seemed to be a logistical nightmare, with technical problems and rehearsals running late. He’d been waiting for nearly an hour and was left to his own devices, his manager having left to take some urgent call. He was leaning against a stack of sound cases, his baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, arms crossed tightly across his chest, wondering why a show that was supposed to be a well-oiled machine felt like a rusty bike.

He checked his watch for the thousandth time, unable to hold the loud sigh that escaped him. He didn’t think of himself as particularly demanding, but if there was one thing that made him exasperated and frustrated, it was lack of professionalism. Just as he contemplated storming off to demand answers, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. A tiny figure toddled past, clutching a well-loved plush dinosaur that looked like it had been through its fair share of battles. Marshall's scowl softened instantly when he saw the little boy, who couldn’t have been more than two years old. The little one was toddling around, exploring, looking all around him, not paying any attention to what was in front of him, stumbling on a cable. Marshall’s dad instincts kicked in and he moved without thinking, catching the kid before he could faceplant into the floor. He knelt in front of him, holding him steady, and he could immediately tell by the little boy’s scrunched up face that he had quite a scare. He stared at him with wide, watery eyes, his bottom lip quivering.

« Hey, buddy, you okay? » Marshall asked, his tone softening. The kid didn’t answer, starting to sob. Marshall winced and held him, trying to reassure him. « You’re alright, bud. You just scared yourself, that’s all. Look, your dino is fine, yeah? » he said softly, before looking around, searching for the boy’s parents, but no one seemed to pay attention. The little one was clutching his dino plushy with one hand, and his hoodie with the other. « Who let you all by yourself, huh? » he sighed before scooping him up and settling him on his hip, starting to look around for whoever was in charge of child supervision, while the chaos around him continued. As a dad, it made him mad that anyone would be irresponsible enough to let their kid run around unsupervised, but the little guy wasn’t exactly showing signs of distress. He kept on looking around, mesmerized by the lights, unfazed to be held by a stranger. At some point, the boy turned his attention to him and smiled, his tiny hand reaching for the chain around his neck and he couldn’t help but smile back. « Pretty cool, huh? » he chuckled.

He looked around again as he walked up to a group of technicians when he heard a feminine voice ring out, sharp with panic. « Milo? Milo, where are you?! ». The boy straightened up and he immediately took the hint. « Milo, huh? I think someone’s looking for you » he hummed, before turning toward the sound. He immediately saw you, storming off the stage in a glittery outfit and full-glam. He immediately recognized you. How could he not? It seemed like your face and your voice were everywhere, these days, and your song, a strong contender for « Record of the year » was living in everyone’s mind rent free, what with the addictive beat and catchy lyrics.

When your eyes landed on the man holding your son, they widened in a mixture of fear and fury. « What the hell are you doing with my son, you freak?! » you shouted as you rushed towards them. Marshall stepped back instinctively, holding up one hand in surrender while the other still cradled the toddler. « Whoa, relax! I found him wandering around. He almost tripped on a cable. ». You snatched Milo from his arms and held him close. Your heart was pounding. It hadn’t been a minute since you had stepped off stage and noticed that your son and his babysitter were nowhere to be found, but it had felt like forever. « There you are, my love. God, you scared me » you hummed to Milo as you pressed a kiss to his temple. Then, you glanced at the stranger and froze. Eminem. You had just yelled at Eminem. « Sorry I freaked out » you apologized. « And sorry I called you a freak. I-I didn’t recognize you ». Your faces was flushed with relief and embarrassment. He chuckled and waved your apology off. «It’s fine. I get it. But you should probably think about having someone around to supervise him. He could have gotten hurt » he said quietly. « I have » you quickly retorted, almost offended by the implication, before looking around. « Though I suppose I should find a new one that won’t let him escape her notice » you hummed awkwardly, your heart still pounding from the intense choreography you’d just rehearsed and the scare. Marshall nodded and looked at Milo. « Yeah, he does seem sneaky, » Marshall chuckled. You let out a shaky laugh, shifting Milo on your hip as he buried his face in your neck while you looked at Marshall. For a split second, you lost yourself in his eyes and couldn’t help but notice how magnetic he was. Internet was right after all, the aura was unmistakable. He stared back at you, silence settling before you caught yourself. « I-I’m sorry. I’m, uh, I’m Y/N » you finally said. « I know » he replied in a low voice that made you blush. « Yeah? » you asked. « Yeah. Your song ruined my summer » he deadpanned and, for a brief moment, you didn’t get that he was joking. He must have caught your eyebrows furrowing, as he immediately clarified. « No, I mean. It’s good. I liked it. But it sure stays in mind » he hummed. « Oh. Thanks » you replied in a whisper.

There was a pause, as your eyes met again. Marshall couldn’t help but notice how your eyes sparkled, and you seemed to study him with equal intensity. There was something unspoken in the air, something thick. « So, » Marshall said, breaking the silence, « you’re rehearsing for the VMAs? ». You nodded, your expression softening. « Yeah. First time performing here. I’m kind of… on edge, trying to balance… well, everything » you replied, nodding at Milo. Marshall hummed and smiled. « Yeah, I’ve been there. But I’m sure you’re doing great. For what it’s worth, I heard you rehearse in the background and it sounded good » he complimented. You mumbled a thank, trying to fight back the heat creeping up your neck. You smiled at each other, and Marshall was about to say something when Milo tugged on your hair and handed Marshall his dinosaur. « Thanks, bud. That’s a really cool dino. Do you know what his name is? » he asked as he turned his attention to your son. « Dino, » your soon replied in an assured tone. « Well, your Dino’s actually a diplodocus,» Marshall explained softly. « Isn’t that a brachiosaurus? » you couldn’t help but ask. « Actually, no. It’s easy to confuse them, but the diplodocus is longer, when the brachiosaurus is much larger. And, uh, if you look at the tail-» he started to explain, gesturing to the plushy, before awkwardly quieting up. « But I suppose toy manufacturers are really accurate ». You let out a soft giggle and nodded. «True. But thanks for telling us. Didn’t think you moonlighted as a paleontologist » you joked. « I had a dino phase, growing up, » he hummed. You nodded, unable to fight back a smile. You were about to speak when his name was called for soundcheck. « That’s me. I mean, Paul is calling me. I should let you get back to, uh… Milo’s dad » he said, still staring at you. « No » you said without thinking, and he raised an eyebrow. « No? » he asked. « I mean, no, you can go, it’s uh… We’re not going back to his dad » you rambled, not too sure why. « Oh » he simply said and you caught him staring at your left hand, where no rock was on display. « Yeah… No» you hummed. « Ok » he replied, clearly trying to fight back a grin. « See you tomorrow » you said with a smile. « Tomorrow? » he asked. « If you’re rehearsing for the VMAs, it means you’ll be there, right? » you asked. « Oh, right. Yeah, I’ll be there » he hummed as he gave Milo his dinosaur back. « Bye, bud. Take care of your dino and your mom. And don’t run around, ok? ». Milo gave him a toothy smile and giggled, and Marshall stared at you. « Bye Y/N. I hope I’ll run into you » he said as he looked at you and started to walk towards the stage. « So do I » you assured him, silently vowing to do everything in your power to make sure it happened.

[kodrama]

#kdramawomensweek

DAY 3: THE HELP

[knifekris]

every day i struggle to make choices

[foxett]

Some au doodles uhmmmm yeah I made another new au I'm at 11 omori AUs...

[shidoukanae]

TME PMV frame thingie WIP

I absolutely adore Helene and Lyla's relationship in both iterations of TME's story and i NEED more qpt gal relationships like theirs is i s2g

it's really, REALLY hard to get me sincerely invested in relationships between female characters but damn am i invested in this one.

Something about a do-good heroine who is abnormally hostile only towards her own half-sister for seemingly no reason (read: "no reason") is a dynamic i can't get enough and seeing Lyla constantly make efforts in both the manhwa/LN to reach out to her is so bittersweet and yet amazingly well done

(and i can't praise enough how amazing Helene is handled as a deeply flawed female character!!! She's genuinely the best written female character ive seen and i wish more gals were written as amazing as she is TwT)

[the-winds-of-destiny-xxx]

.

[arolesbianism]

hello gamers minor life update I have been doing Real bad lately so I will likely continue to be very inactive, but hey on the bright side I have been fleshing out some eternal gales lore I reworked a while back and I can happily say that Dodie no longer completely contradicts the very nature of reality in eternal gales and the fog tower™ officially has a real reason to exist again so hell yeah to that

[nope-body]

.

[evieelyzabethh]

"glue song"

✭"don't forget to kiss me or else you'll have to miss me"✭ ~ How Arcane characters show affection headcannons {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw ☞slightly pervy jayce (you can't pry him from my cold dead hands), fluff

♞Vi♞

♞Vi kisses like she is starving, and you are the first morsel of food she can get her hands on. Like she is drowning, and you are her first breath of air. It's not just desperate and hungry, but there's also a thankfulness to it. Thank you for sticking with her, thank you for being so patient with her, thank you for loving her. Vi doesn't do anything half-assedly, especially not kissing her pretty girlfriend. It's probably her favorite form of affection because it's so versatile. It doesn't have to lead to the bed if neither of you want it to, sometimes it's just on the couch, you sat in between her large thighs, positively falling into her.

♞Her favorite place to kiss you would be on your lips as she holds you chin in her rough hands. She would kiss you thoroughly and deeply, her tongue languidly kissing your own without a rush or care in the world. She is quite prone to getting overwhelmed herself, squeezing the air from both of your lungs and having the nerve to pout at you when you pull away. On her messier days, she leaves a string of spit behind, but she's always kind enough to wipe it away with a few swipes of her thumb. With every inch you pull back she leans in a mile more, chasing you as you try to catch your breath and when she does pin you down, she holds you impossibly close so you can't escape again until she's had her fill. Even then, she holds you in her large arms and tangles your limbs together, at one point sliding her hand beneath your shirt just to lay it on your tummy and feel it move as you breath.

♞Vi is also secretly a space heater. She runs incredibly hot and because of this, sleeps naked and is always down to give you her jacket. It just makes sense in her mind, seeing her clothing wrapped around you. She likes sharing most things; oddly specifically, drinks. She's gross and thinks it's hot that you're technically swapping spit. When it comes to alcohol, especially if you're not a big drinker, both of you will nurse off the same drink, her tipping your head back and pouring it into your mouth when you get a bit too tipsy to do so yourself without spilling.

♞Her go to pet name is 'pretty' and I will die on this hill. It's the thing that defines you for her. She's an idiot and a loser and she knows there's more to you than just how you look, but she just can't help it that whenever she sees you, all her reptile brain can think is 'pretty'. She absolutely abuses it, too. Besides this, I also think she would use those sleazy kinda bar pet names, like sweets or babydoll. Not in a creepy sleazy way, but that is just realistically what she would've been hearing for terms of endearment.

♞Slight side tangent, in a modern AU she is definitely one of those mascs that gets a hold to some Calvin Klein boxers and takes advantage of every opportunity possible to show the waistband off. Part of it is just her showing affection, even if you can reach tall shelves on your own, she still insists on getting the items for you. This carriers over into many things, like twisting open pickle jars or opening your soda cans if you're someone into longer nails. While she isn't as good with building things as Jinx, I think she would definitely be able to manage putting together the furniture in your shared home. Would it take all day? Well, yes! But you chose to make the best out of it and fuck on top of the furniture to test its sturdiness and congratulate your girlfriend on a job well done.

♞On the topic of nails in a modern AU, she would love a partner who gets them done absolutely goes feral if you get them customized to her liking, like coloring them after her eyes or hair or sneaking her name in there somewhere. She feels like she's made it in life when she can pay to get them done. It seems like a selfless action, but it would be a lie to say she gets nothing out of it. The scratch mark you leave on her back after break her brain a little.

★Ekko★

★Ekko loves cooking for his girlfriend! I feel like that would definitely be his main love language along with quality time. As stated before, you two would spend a lot of time in his kitchen, often times with some source of music providing a background noise to the nonsense that you concoct together, occasionally slow dancing while there's time to kill while waiting for something to finish in the oven. Food fights may occasionally occur, but he does a thorough job of licking you clean after. He claims he 'can't let good food go to waste'.

★He would also have a sketchbook absolutely full of you. You can tell when a new edition is about to be added as well. Ekko isn't loud, but he isn't quiet either. His foot is always tapping, he's usually humming something, he always has something to keep his hands busy. He's hardly ever still, except for those moments when you fully wash over him. Sometimes the lighting is exceptionally beautiful, sometimes it's in appreciation of how the wind moves the world around you, and some moments are just so breathtaking beautiful he has to take a moment to go silent, still, and stare. Sometimes he'll just tell you to be in his presence and be pretty so he can properly commit you to paint and commemorate you forever in oils and brush strokes. He's not above nude paintings, though those strokes look and feel much different.

★Ekko is the CEO of quick kisses. He's a busy guy!! He's running an entire commune. He makes the absolute most out of moments when you have the world to yourselves, but most of what you receive are quick passing kisses on your cheeks or the corner of your mouth. He misses on purpose because he simply does not believe in starting things he doesn't have the time to finish. For this reason, I don't think he'd be a big quickie guy. A kiss can easily just be a kiss, but sex is not something meant to be done in 5 minutes.

★Ekko's favorite place to kiss you would also be your lips. He's a romantic, what can I say!!! At the end of every day, you ask each other how your day was after you've both showered and gotten comfy. You both sit on his bed, set beside each other, your legs haphazardly laid over his as he casually massages your thigh. Sometimes you're both a bit too tired and aren't listening that hard, the occasional tidbit catching your attention making either of you sit straight and get closer until eventually you laid on top of him, both of you half asleep. No matter how much energy either of you has, a good night kiss is to be had. When Ekko doesn't need to be quick, he is impossibly slow. He has all the time and then some.

★Not only does he demand a good night kiss, but a good morning kiss to. He gets pouty without it. And sassy. He tells Scar, very loudly so that everyone can hear him, that you hate and don't love him anymore and he is just so deeply hurt that you would let your boyfriend, you're one true love, leave the house without kissing him goodbye and doesn't shut up about it until he gets his goddamn kiss.

★He loves picking out your outfits. He prides himself on the way he dresses and out of everyone, I think Ekko has the most domestic skills. I've already discussed how well he cooks, but I wouldn't be surprised if he also knew his way around a needle and thread. He is not just wearing any clothes; he has a sense of style that he is very proud of. This being said, he loves going shopping with you in a modern AU and he loves when you eventually get comfortable enough to not retreat into the bathroom when changing from outfit to outfit. He's the one making you do the little spin so he can appreciate the outfit from all angles.

★As far as pet names go, I think Ekko would keep it simple with "babe" or "baby" for more casual usages. I also think he would be fond of "my girl" and expects it from you in return because yes he is "your boy" and yes you are "his girl" and yes he loves you very very much. He wouldn't be a stranger to "my love", especially in the mornings or at night when your face is the first and last thing he sees when he closes his eyes. It makes him feel extra sappy.

❂Jayce❂

❂He is all over you at all times of the day omg. I feel like of everyone, Jayce would be the clingiest. This isn't to say he's attached to you at the hip, but his favorite part of the day is getting to go home to you. You're cooking and there he is sitting on the counter yapping about Hextech or something. You're taking a shower and he wants to join. And it's not just a proximity thing, it's also a touchy thing. Any reason or way he can find to touch you, he is taking it. He doesn't care if it's pathetic, dammit, he wants to be held.

❂Jayce would absolutely thrive in a modern AU. He would be the guy whose social media page are all posts about his girlfriend and does he just love to show you off. He would spoil you so good, but rather than buying anything you wanted like Mel would, I think he would also really enjoy making you presents. This isn't to say he doesn't enjoy buying you things, one of your staple pieces of jewelry is the gold anklet he bought with his initials on it.

❂Physical touch is easily his love language but he cannot handle all that, or rather, he freezes in situations where you initiate it. His hands tend to naturally find your waist and will occasionally, if he's feeling bold enough, slip down to your ass, but one time when it was freezing out, you offered your tits as handwarmers and he got a nosebleed. Jayce is definitely an undercover perv but due to never having a girlfriend before and being completely foreign with the concept that he doesn't need to hide how badly he wants to jump your bones at nearly all hours of the day, he freezes when it comes to you initiating contact.

❂He would definitely be the type to get you teddy bears and flowers just whenever. It's never with any rhyme or reason and it happens rather sporadically, just when he is out and about for any reason and thinks of you and wants to bring you something home. He thinks of you a lot, actually. Mel and Viktor love the both of you, but sometimes he goes a bit overboard when it comes to talking about you. This being said, he jumps at any opportunity to show you off. He loves going to gala's because he likes seeing you in pretty clothes and hanging off his arm. He also likes kissing you in public, even if no one's paying attention. He is well versed in the art of delayed gratification and loves getting the both of you riled up knowing full well he does not have the balls to actually fuck you with people around (he gets loud and is very well aware of this)

❂ Jayce's absolute favorite place to kiss you is your neck. He usually starts with your lips, large hands cupping your cheeks and soft lips moving over yours until he gets more antsy. His hands travel from your cheek to your neck then begin to creep under your clothes to grab and knead at your warm skin. Then he would move down your face, peppering kisses across your lips, down your jaw, then down you neck, panting as he goes along and his hands getting rougher as he tries to remain composed. He stops there for a moment, breath fanning over skin that is now slightly red from his canines nipping you and his fresh stubble scratching the area, reminding himself to be gentle and not take more than he's given. He pleads with you, his own cheeks flushed from the heat of the movement as he mutters out his "please...". He's begged you time and time again to not make him verbalize exactly what he wants, but you are relentless. At least he has the manners to ask sweetly beforehand.

❂He is the type to lay right on top of you. After you've gotten comfy in your bed, thrown on your pajama's, maybe are doing a bit of light reading before bed, he comes around to disturb your peace and lay himself right on top of you, smothering you with kisses while he lays there. He eventually moves out of his starfish position to lay his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your torse. He's like a giant, weighted, warm teddy bear

❂One of his go-to pet names would be 'baby', but only when it just the two of you. He is also quite fond of 'gorgeous' and he always has a stupid smirk on his face when he says it. His favorite would be 'sweetheart'. Slightly off topic, he would be the first to jump the gun and start calling you his wife. Especially to council members that are annoying him and taking up time he'd rather be spending with you, he is very quick to pull a "Sorry, gotta get home to my wife." He bought to matching rings for your one-year anniversary to sell the story better.

☽Viktor☾

☽As far as physical affection goes, I think he would be the least touchy. I think the touches would be concentrated on your face, lazily tracing all of your features, marking where your cheeks sink below your cheek bones, the divot between your chin and lips, and where your face is most pronounced. While he wouldn't call himself an artist, he could probably mold your face in clay from the number of times his feather light fingers have caressed every inch of it. He's utterly entranced by it. His mind often wanders while listening to you speak, eyes roaming from your lips and taking note of them in proportion to your eyes, getting lost in the color of them until his eyes flit to your nose and the way your nostrils slightly flare out. It's very mechanical, but that's just the way his brain works.

☽Less of a hugger but he does like to keep his arms around you. Especially on date nights when you're cuddled up on your couch, a myriad of snacks in between the two of you, your head resting on his shoulder while he tries to hide his snores as he falls in and out of consciousness. You accuse of him trying to go to sleep and he tells you he was just "resting his eyes".

☽He would make you all the trinkets in the world. Many of them start as failed experiments of his or scraps from projects past that need to be repurposed, but the thought is always there. He hates to waste and there's really no need to when he has a girlfriend he can make gifts for. Your vanity is full of pretty side projects, decorative boxes for your makeup, ornate music boxes, tea sets and tiny figurines. Your desk would be full of special tchotchkes.

☽Speaking of tchotchkes, I think that would be one of his playful nicknames for you. It sounds absolutely delectable in his accent. I think he would also go for the classier terms of endearment such as 'dear', 'love', 'darling' as well as variations of them in his mother tongue. He would love teaching you his native language, both as a way to bond even more but also to make sure he never loses it.

☽He would also be big on compliments. He is probably your number one supporter, but not in the loud sports fan with a huge foam finger kinda way, but in a quieter more personal way. He is extremely confident in you and your abilities as well as being endlessly proud of everything you do. He is in complete awe of you, and he tells you as such. It is impossible to feel bad about yourself in his presence, he keeps a mental rolodex of every accomplishment of yours to combat any sort of negative self-talk.

☽Not a big PDA guy. He would rather throw himself out of a window than suck face with you in Jayce's presence. He is a big hand-holder which is disastrous when doing it while walking around because neither one of you can walk straight to save your life. It's not even an issue with his leg because you do it too. You bump into each other all the time, though in the winter it is more often on purpose to keep warm.

☽Viktor's favorite place to kiss you is on your forehead. It's simple and it's sweet and more often than not what he can get away with the most. With how much time he spends in the lab, he has grown to deeply appreciate those quiet moments with you, holding your hand under the table as he works in the low light, papers rustling as he tries to find the specific formula he's looking for. Jayce is across the table, snoring loud enough to keep the both of you awake. You look like you want to kiss him, he can feel your gaze on his lips as your fingers tangle through his hair and he turns to you and gives you a small smile then a sweet kiss on your forehead. When he pulls away, he leans into you and you sit there for a moment, nose to nose. "Just a few moments, love, I'm almost done." You giggle through tiredness. "It won't be a few moments, Vik." And he appreciates your understanding more than most things in the world. "No, it won't. But I'll try to make it quick.", he promises and then plants another kiss on you

☽He really likes reading with you, or just doing activities that allow the both of you to be doing something together without necessarily needing to talk. It doesn't even have to be something he's good at, it could be a painting session, or a pottery lesson, and he would be down. He would also be the type to try and pick up on your hobbies. You like to crochet; he's also picking up a crochet needle to try and work alongside you. And he's not too proud to ask for help, he likes a relationship where both parties are constantly learning and exploring.

☼Mel☼

☼Mel is definitely the type to spoil you. She has so much money and is not afraid to use it. You really like that dress you saw while window shopping? She's already ordered it to be tailored to your exact size. You like that bracelet? You wake up to it in a box on your nightstand the next morning and spot her wearing a matching piece later on that day. It's not to try and buy your love, she just thinks you deserve the world, and if she could buy it, it would be your wedding present.

☼Mel love holding hands at all times and specifically is the type to rub the skin between your pointer finger and thumb. Her skin would also be so soft, touching her feels like touching smooth velvet. She also likes to kiss your knuckles and the inside of your wrist before letting go, the mark her lipstick feeling like a heavy imprint of her lips.

☼She is also very fond of kissing your nose. She thinks 'booping' you with her finger is childish, but she is not above a little peck on the nose, which is the abridged version of her usual ritual of pecking your forehead, nose, and lips. Those kisses are usually taken in the morning when you go your separate ways for the day, particularly those that she knows will be long and tedious. She likes to think she takes part of you with her when she does it. She misses your intellect, she misses the silent indicators of your presence, she misses how you feel. Some days, she greatly yearns to return to you. She feels like a physical weight is lifted off her back and she can actually breathe.

☼She loves spending wash days with you. Those locs take hours and you are there right by her side, gossiping and discussing everything and nothing while royal hairdressers take down or retwist that beautiful head of hair. It's even better if you're the one doing it for her. She likes the feeling of your fingers in her scalp, massaging out the wrinkles in her brain as she goes boneless in between your legs. I, unfortunately, do not think she could return the favor. She is like basically royalty; her whole life someone was likely doing it for her. She would try and learn!! It would just take a little bit.

☼I do think she would be very good at doing your makeup. She has the base routine DOWN and usually likes to do simpler eye looks, though she can do whatever you request of her. All hell breaks loose when it comes time to do lips, and her gloss would end up all over your face as she is overcome with the unabating urge to leave glossy kiss marks all over your face . You would return the favor, whatever pigmented shade you previously wore landing all over her flawless skin, and she would savor the moment with a photo she keeps in her journal

☼In a modern AU, I think she would be really good at carnival games. I can't explain it, she just would. She's not the biggest fan carnivals and fairs as they're a bit too loud and crowded for her taste, but if you wanted to go, she certainly would never say no to you. While I think Vi would try very hard to beat them only to fail, Mel would be unexplainably good at them and win you tons of prizes.

☼Mel carries a purse on her at all times and has absolutely everything in there. Pads, tampons, ibuprofen, lip gloss, hand sanitizer, wet wipes, anything you could possibly need is in that bag of hers. She also carries the big bag so you only have to carry around outfit purses than can barely handle a handful of coins. She also loves matching outfits with you!!! You probably own so many matching outfits, matching pjs, matching workout sets, as well as multiple items of clothing that are the exact same except for sizing.

☼She would be another one who constantly talks about her partner, albeit, in a much smoother way than Jayce does. Jayce jumps at every opportunity to bring you up in conversation, it's always flows naturally with Mel but she also brags far more. It's always, "That's great but my girlfriend..." or finding ways to talk about big accomplishments knowing damn well no one else can compete. See her girlfriend has a doctorate, or her girlfriend won this prestigious award, or her girlfriend was the first to do this...what were you saying about your wife though???

☼As for pet names, I think Mel would be another person who uses "my love" or "my dear" but I also think she'd be the type to refer to you as "princess". Once again, coming from royalty, she treats you as such, and that also comes down to how she refers to you. She also just likes calling you by name, usually in her sappier moments followed by her last name She can't get enough of the way it sounds rolling off her tongue and the two of you together just sounds perfect.

[shouyuus]

vi who sleeps in nothing but a pair of boxers/plaid pants (coz she runs super hot)...good luck trying to get any sleeping done next to allat ( . 人 . )

right. we are so back (i say, as if i've fucking gone anywhere except or being chronically online here writing vi fics) but pls put ur hands together for the original shirtless sleeper vi anon; our one tru savior who spawned all those topless vi hcs

18+, nip mention, college roommate!vi cinematic universe

vi, who runs super fucking hot all the time, sleeps in nothing but boxers or boy shorts, always kicks the blankets off the bed. before you got together, you'd sometimes find her passed out on the couch in the living room, snoring, her shirt rucked all the way up, her abs out on full display, on hand thrown over her head, the other dangling off the edge of the couch.

you've had to wake her up more than once, tug her over your shoulders, and half-drag, half-walk her to her own bedroom, dumping her on the bed, coaxing her into a semi-normal sleeping position before tucking her in.

but the next morning, when you'd wake up to check on her, you'd always find her somehow with all the sheets thrown off her (even in the dead of winter), and her shirt magically discarded somewhere on her floor, her torso bare, her nipple rings glinting in the morning light seeping in from the cracks between her eternally closed blinds.

sometimes, you'd linger over the sleeping shape of her, a stupid little indulgent smile on your lips as you sigh and walk back out of the room.

now that you're together though, it's even worse (and by that i mean better) bc she's a cuddler, you know she is. and she loves wrapping herself around you when she sleeps, digging her nose into the nape of your neck if she's big spoon, or just curling herself over your body, her leg thrown over both of yours, one of her arms looped around your middle --

except she's a human furnace, and in the summers, you've already got the ac blasting, but somehow its still not enough, and you always wake up in the middle of the night, skin sticky with a thin layer of sweat, trying to get some air. but when you try to roll away from her, she'd always whine and chase you, pull you back tighter into her arms, nuzzle against your cheek and mumble something about not leaving her.

"vi -- i'm not going anywhere, i'm just sweating --"

"mm... turn the ac up more..."

"okay, but you have to let me go first."

"mmm.... don't wanna..."

but the fact that her tits are rubbing up against your arm, her nipple rings cool along your skin -- you shiver, and she chuckles.

"can't be that hot if you're shivering like that."

you groan; she sounds way more awake now than a second ago. fuck.

"j-just -- lemme go turn down the ac --"

"don't -- i'm comfy." she locks you into her chest, her nose pressing into your cheek as she ghosts her lips over your skin. you can't help the tiny whimper that squeezes out of your throat.

you've got a quiz tomorrow (technically, later on today since it's like 4am in the morning) in fluid mechanics and you really can't be losing sleep like this but --

vi's already shifting, twisting you towards her, cupping your cheek to turn your face. your lips meet and you know it's a lost cause to try and resist.

"c'mon pretty girl -- spread those legs for me -- gotta work up a sweat first if you wanna cool down after, right?" she says as she tugs your legs open with one of her ankles hooked over yours, keeping your leg pinned beneath hers as her free hand slips beneath the waistband of your panties.

needless to say, you don't get much sleep for the rest of the night. you still manage to make it to your fluid mechanics class the next day, and the quiz goes... okay. but your ac bill is really really way too high that month.

[on-the-clear-blue]

Little idea wiggling about in my brain...

So like *holds Danny and Billy up by the scruff of their shirts* these two bastards won't leave my brain, and for punishment I will make them kiss...

Just, the Rock of eternity technically is Shazam's (the wizards) haunt? He has been dead for a long time, living only though his champion, what if Ghost King Danny gets slapped with a post it note that reads like

"Daniel, you're required to assist the Champion of Magic as the High King of the Realms, even Pariah helped the previous Champion Black Adam."

And Danny is like, "Sure, why not, Magic is real and so are ghosts."

And like....

Sparky Danny meeting Literal Sun Beam Billy, they are both 14, it's puppy love at its finest. Danny doesn't know what to do with gay panic and Billy is just straight up "This man is my soul mate, he shall be mine." (Call iy Zeus bestowing more than just lightning)

The leauge is very concerned why Captain Marvel seems to have a seeming underage partner.

Superman squinting very hard and trying to figure this out: So...just how old is Phantom?

Billy, unaware how bad this looks: Oh I don't know honestly, it's kinda hard to tell with beings from the Realms! Though he died when he was 14!

Superman, gripping the table (which cracks a little) :And how exactly long has he been 14?

Billy, taking out his phone and flipping out pictures: Like I said, I don't really know how old he is, but there is Egyptain hieroglyphics of him! Look!

Superman, blinking at the very real looking pictures: Ahh. Fun cool cool cool...a-and how are you again Cap?

Billy mindlessly swiping the photos, excited to show off his boyfriend:Never said it, but he is definitely older than I am.

(Danny is older by a month, Billy calls him an old man for it.)

Billy gets to live full time in Danny's haunt in the Zone, Danny built him like the best house, Tucker and Sam get to meet Billy and they just are flabbergasted that Danny "I can't get a girl to date me or else she ends up wanting to kill me" Fenton has a boyfriend that has been going steady for a few months.

My brain sees like, Maddie and Jack are 100% backing Danny, they are fully supportive of their bi/gay/pan son, but in no way would they support him if he was a ghost, like they are organizing Amitys first ever Pride parade, but there is a shoot ghosts on sight order.

And just the reveal is like...

Danny gets finally tells them he is a ghost: if you start shooting me, your shooting the only Gay person you know, not very ally of you mom and Dad.

Maddie mouth open in horror: Oh no...Jack are...are we homophobic?

Jack sharing her look of fear: Great Scott...Dann-o a-are you sure...its...it's a life style right? Y-you chose this?

Danny, trying very, very hard not to laugh: It's not a life style dad! I didn't choose to Die!

Anyway, thank you for coming to my brain word vomit, I haven't slept in 20 hours.

[deadsetobsessions]

Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Part 1

[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4]

To not turn into a giant raging asshole hell bent on murdering people and destroying the world after everyone he loved died, Danny had ran from Amity with his chosen vice.

A bottle. That’s right. Even after Jazz’s talks about alcoholism as a poor coping mechanism as a form of self harm, he still chose alcohol. Or maybe that’s why he picked it, because it reminded him of her, right before the booze took the sting of grief off of her memory. He was never really all that good at listening to Jazz.

And now she’s gone, so it’s moot point. Danny really hated Nasty Burger.

Danny made it all the way to Gotham, bottle constantly glued to his hand. It’s better than Vlad’s creep-o-self looming over him all of the time. He bummed out on the streets, fitting into crime alley like a native. Danny learned to pickpocket. Not much, just enough for a bottle when his ran out. He stayed human. At first he tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to be perceived as a meta in a city where Batman notoriously disliked metas. Then, as he sunk deeper, he admitted to himself in a shameful curl of a whisper that it was really because alcohol affected his human side much easier.

Ghosts need an ungodly amount of alcohol to even get slightly buzzed. Danny’s human side? Only one full bottle the shittiest tequila he could find could even hope to be more than buzzed. It sucked.

He’s spent two years being an alcoholic that didn’t actually get that drunk. Technically, underage drinking was a crime. But then again, so was being a vigilante ghost. So, whatever. He does what he can to dull the grief. Mostly, he slept on covered and hidden nooks on top of Crime Alley’s roofs. Gotham city had taken pity on him and cleared her smog clouds when he was awake at night. Stargazing helped, at least. It gave him a little hope. It gave him a little wish to change and better and live like he wants. But then the night ends and when the day comes, Jazz isn’t there. Sam isn’t there. Tucker isn’t there. His mom and dad are not there.

Danny always went back to the bottle, in the end. Not that it did much.

Which was why, when he saw three looming figures over a tiny child, Danny’s saving people thing flared with a vengeance and his surprised ectoplasm burned what little buzz he had achieved by downing most of the bottle away, leaving him stone cold sober and pissed.

Danny sighed, dumping the rest of the nasty tasting liquid out. There’s no point drinking that little.

He approached the trio, who were beating up an actual child. Ancients, he hated Crime Alley sometimes.

“Give me your shit, you little punk!” Asshole 1 decided to say like a typical mugger, raising his leg to kick the curled up kid below. Danny doesn’t let him land the kick, smashing the bottle on the asshole’s head before any of them clocked his presence. He pivots, pushing a bit of that extra strength he normally keeps on a tight leash into his hands, and punched the other two in a quick fashion, knocking them out.

With that taken care of, Danny turned back to the kid who was still curled up. Danny sighed again, the trembles in small shoulders plucking on his heartstrings.

“You okay, kid?”

The kid uncurls, and Danny stared. Holy shit, is he looking into a mirror? Blue eyes, black hair, and tanned skin. Holy shit, he’s even got similar jaws to Danny.

“Huh.”

The kid flinched.

“Y-y’er the drunk,” the kid flinched again, eyes darting to the broken bottle still clenched in Danny’s hand. “I- I ain’t got money, honest. Please-”

Danny blinked down at the kid, brain connecting the dots after so long without actual interaction. He’s panicking and staring at the bottle in Danny’s hand like it’ll kill him. Danny raised the bottle and the kid closed his mouth with a click, terror worming its way into the kid’s eyes.

“I wasn’t going to mug you myself, kid.”

“But- y’er the- the Alley drunk.”

Danny blinked. Did he get a reputation without knowing again? Goddammit.

“I guess. Am I famous or somethin’?”

“Nobody- nobody fucks wit’ ya.”

“I also don’t hurt kids.”

“…”

The kid stared at him dubiously and with a sinking feeling, Danny realized that maybe the kid already had some terrible experiences with a heavy drunken hand. He promptly chucks the bottle further into the alley.

“I drink, yes. But I’m also not the kind of scum that would lay hands on a kid, let alone anyone that didn’t provoke it first.”

“Oh.” The kid uncurled more, looking at Danny warily, more at ease now that the bottle has left the chat.

“Yeah. I’m Danny. Stone cold sober, right now.”

“…”

Danny waited.

“Peters.”

“Okay. Peters, do you wanna take their shit?” Danny pointed a thumb at the knocked out would-be-muggers behind him.

“Y… yeah, sure. What’s my cut?”

“All of it.”

Peters stared.

Danny shrugged and started looting.

"Y'er so fuckin' weird."

----

See, the thing is, Danny hadn't anticipated saving Peters- "'s actually Jason"- would result in having a duckling following him around. The kid, Jason, glared at everyone who even looked at them wrong. But that's not the problem, because Danny could take anyone who took issue with Jason's looks, it's more like there's a child following him around now and Danny doesn't want to be the reason Jason turns into an alcoholic. It's- well, it made him cut down on the drinking. He even got jobs- legitimate jobs that sucks out his his poor ectoplasmic soul.

Why? Because Jason's apparently homeless. While that's something Danny's okay with for himself, he can't ever condone that for an actual child. Jason's walking around in threadbare clothes and thin soled shoes in the middle of Fall, for Ancient's sake.

Danny grumbles as he piled a bunch of clothes into the shopping bag as he checked out. Gotham's Walmart is a different kind of hell, but Danny feels right at home.

Sure, the work might suck out his soul and he might hate being sober, but Jason's face every time he comes home to an actual place to live, warm clothes, and food was worth everything.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 6 (part one)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 5.3k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

additional chapter cw! this chapter contains brief mentions of blood and minor injuries

It was like no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t stop hurting you.

You were only under for a second, maybe less, your lifejacket doing its job, and yet somehow he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d let you drown. 

There wasn’t much logic to it. It wasn’t as though he had emptied the jet ski of all its gas, or that he somehow had control over the weather. 

Technically, none of this was his fault, yet he felt the guilt burn in his chest like he’d swallowed hot coals.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

The second your head emerged, you let out a scream, the salt water in your fresh cut sending hot sparks of pain up your leg.

“Fuck, ow!” You cried, reaching for the jet ski with shaky hands, in so much pain you couldn’t even find it.

“Ohhh baby, are you okay?” Rafe grabbed your hand, squeezing tight as he pulled you towards him in the water, his other arm tethering you both to the jet ski.

“I think I’m bleeding,” you clung to his shoulder, your fingers digging in probably too tight, but the pain was so overwhelming you needed to put it somewhere. He didn’t mind, desperate to take it away however he could.

“Here climb up,” he said, grabbing your waist and boosting you. “The water can’t be helping.”

“Shit,” you both said in unison when you finally got onto the jet ski and revealed the cut on your calf, wider than you thought and bleeding angrily.

“Just hold on, I got you,” he assured, beginning to kick rapidly to start moving the jet ski toward the shore. 

You were scared the whole time, never once taking your eyes off of him. Asking him over and over again if he was okay until you were sure he was sick of it. But not once was there even a hint of agitation in his voice as he promised you he was fine, that you were almost there, that everything was gonna be okay.

His words didn’t do much to convince you, your face flooding with worry when you noticed his breaths getting more strained.

“I’m okay,” he swore to you, stopping for a moment to catch his breath. “We’re almost there.”

It was starting to rain and the thunder was growing louder, there was no argument to be made that you could keep floating safely in the ocean. You resigned to let him keep going, but your eyes never left him, as if it was your appreciation keeping him afloat instead of his lifejacket.

“Thank you,” you said for the fifteenth time.

He smiled, his eyes crinkling with the motion, the expression entirely too joyful for the grim situation you found yourselves in.

“What?” You scoffed, poking his hand with your toe playfully.

“You’re cute when you’re worried,” he explained.

The drizzling rain was chilly, but your body was on fire. You opened your mouth to reply, despite the utter lack of words in your mind, but the sight of your sister appearing in the distance pulled your attention away.

The group that gathered at the dock’s edge was not the happy-go-lucky bunch of friends you’d arrived with a few hours ago.

The dock was only a few yards away now, you were close enough to see Carter slumped on the ground, Topper’s arms around her, pulling her into a comforting hug. As Rafe swam you closer, it became more apparent that she was crying. 

“There she is!” Tom shouted, motioning to you.

Carter stood quickly, nearly knocking Topper over, waving her arms in the air frantically like she was trying to land a plane. You waved back, heart aching at the sight of her red, puffy eyes. 

“We’re okay!” You yelled through the rain, trying to ease her worry as the jet ski approached. 

You looked down at Rafe who could hear the commotion but not see it.

“We’re almost there, they’re all waiting for us,” you filled him in.

As the front of the jet ski neared the group, Topper leaned over the side of the dock to pull you the rest of the way in. 

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, where have you been, are you crazy?!” Carter paced the dock, a wild look in her eyes as she scolded you.

“I’m fine!” You assured her. “We just ran out of gas.”

“We?” She questioned, hands on her hips.

Once Topper had secured the jet ski to the dock, Rafe swam around to the side, revealing himself to the group.

“What the hell? Where’s Kelce?” Carter questioned.

You knew she must really be upset. When she went into worried-mom-mode, her already limited inclination for politeness went completely out the window.

“Can someone help him up please?” You corrected her. “And get him a blanket or something?”

“I’ve got a couple in my trunk!” Topper said, before running to the marina parking lot.

“I’m fine,” Rafe calmed you with a soft smile as he lifted himself onto the back of the jet ski.

Before he could climb onto the dock, fully planning to help you up next, Tom reached out his hand to you.

“Are you okay?” Tom asked. You could feel Rafe’s posture stiffen next to you.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You accepted his hand, only due to the fact that you actually did need help with the big step off the jet ski.

The moment your feet were steady on the dock, you pulled your hand from his and turned back to make sure Rafe made it onto solid ground. When he did, you made your way to Carter’s side, pulling her into a hug.

“I thought something happened…” she mumbled into your shoulder.

“I’m okay,” you soothed her. “Rafe saved me.”

She pulled back from you, sniffling as she eyed him over your shoulder.

“Thank you,” she told him quietly.

“I didn’t do a great job,” he said shakily, looking down at your leg. “You’re still bleeding.”

“You’re bleeding?!” Carter turned you around, inspecting you for injury.

You laughed as she spun you frantically, “it’s just a little cut on my leg.”

She leaned down to inspect it further, eyebrows knit with concern. “I told Topper we should’ve called 911.”

You placed both hands on her shoulders, “Car, I’m fine. It’s just a scrape, it’ll be gone by tomorrow. I’m sorry we scared you, though.”

“You did,” she pouted.

Topper came running back, huffing from his hurry. 

“I could only find one,” he extended the blanket in his hands to Rafe, who obviously needed it more.

Rafe took the blanket from him and opened it up quickly, but instead of dragging it over his own shoulders, he wrapped it around you.

“You should take it,” you tried to stop him.

“Nah,” he waved you off, running his hands up and down your arms to warm you up. “We need to get you dry before Carter calls the Coast Guard.”

For a full ten seconds, your group stood in the rain, everyone’s eyes on someone else, the tension in the air telling an entire story to some invisible audience.

Carter looked at you, concern wrinkling her forehead as she wondered what really happened after she went to bed last night. 

Topper looked at Carter, wondering if her investment in your love life meant she’d forgotten all about the intimate hug they’d shared on the dock waiting for you to return.

Tom looked at Rafe, wondering if it was this joker’s fault you’d rejected him the night before and feeling the hot flame of competition ignite in his chest.

Sabrina looked at Tom, wondering when boys had started looking at you like that and how to get him to look at her instead.

Rafe looked down at you, and you looked up at him, both wondering if the other was thinking the same thing: there’s so much more to say.

“Ahem,” the jet ski owner cleared his throat, pulling you all from your thoughts. “Need the keys back if you don’t mind.”

Carter handed him the first two keys, and Rafe fumbled in his pocket for yours.

“You should really be checking the gas tank before you just send people out there,” Rafe snapped at him, tossing him the key. “You sent her out with an empty tank, she could’ve been seriously screwed, man. No way to run a business.”

“Maybe you should teach your girl how to drive so she doesn’t drain the tank,” the guy snapped back. “Not my fault she’s a ditz.”

Rafe stepped toward him in one long stride, chest puffed out and tension brewing in his flexed jaw that ran all the way down his neck.

“The fuck did you just say?” Rafe grabbed him by his collar, pulling the guy up towards him as he glared at him. 

You looked helplessly to Topper, who hurried to pull Rafe’s hand off the guy’s shirt. Topper was an expert at intervening before Rafe did things he couldn’t undo, and you were grateful he was here. Still, there was a small part of you that selfishly wanted to know what he’d do next, how far he’d go to defend your honor.

“Okay, okay,” Topper said. “Let’s just go, bro. It’s over.”

Rafe fought against Topper’s pull for a moment, staring daggers at the jet ski guy, who was chuckling smugly. When the guy’s eyes darted to you, he pulled his arm from Topper’s grip and made to move towards him again.

“Rafe,” you said softly.

His head turned to you, and the tension in his shoulders loosened. You shook your head ever so slightly, eyes urging him to back down. He nodded once and his hands, which had been balled into fists, flexed open as he let his anger go.

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As soon as you made it back to the house, you peeled your wet bathing suit off and climbed in the shower, eager to get your weary body into the warm water and let the sea wash down the drain. Carter had announced plans on the car ride back from the marina to go out to some clubs this evening, and you were far from dance floor ready.

For just a moment, the hot water felt incredible, until it made its way to your cut. You yelped and stepped out of the hot stream quickly. 

Typically, you would’ve thought responsibly enough to cover the cut before getting in the shower, but your mind was too foggy with thoughts of Rafe. You pulled on some clothes and padded down the hall to Carter’s room.

The knock on the door sparked a flurry of commotion behind it. Hushed voices echoed from under the door frame.

“Just a second!” Carter shouted to you, voice muffled.

“Oof!” A deeper voice said, the sound of a heavy body hitting the floor.

Your lips twisted in a knowing smile. You didn’t need the door to swing open to know who you were hearing in the room. Carter and Topper were clearly tangled up in something before you interrupted.

Confirming your suspicion, the door swung open and Topper stood in front of you, his shirt on backwards from being pulled on in a hurry.

“Do I have the wrong room?” You smirked.

“I was just, uh, helping Carter with something,” he fumbled to explain.

“Oh? What were you helping her with?” 

“Her bed is, uh, broken.” 

You laughed, standing on your tiptoes to call over his shoulder and into the room, “just wanted to see if you have any Band-Aids?” 

“No,” she responded from somewhere under the mess of blankets on her bed. “But I can come help you find some.”

“Oh no,” you said. “You stay here and work on that…broken bed.”

Topper gave you a thankful smile and you winked at him.

“Make good choices!” You called, turning from the door.

“Too late!” Carter sang back.

You checked a few of the other bathrooms before wandering to the kitchen. One hand on the counter, and the other reaching as high as it could, you tried to boost yourself up. The flex of your calf as you jumped stretched the skin around your cut, making you wince. 

“Fuck,” you grumbled to yourself. “Let’s get jet skis they said, it’ll be fun they said…”

You tried to jump again, reaching for the high cabinet, the only one in the kitchen you hadn’t checked yet. You could’ve sworn you’d seen a first aid kit around here somewhere. You jumped again, the effort still fruitless.

“Need some help?”

You turned fast, startled by the revelation that you weren’t actually alone.

Rafe was standing at the bottom of the stairs, leaning on the banister with his arms crossed. His hair was damp, clearly just out of the shower himself. You weren’t looking at his hair, though.

He was covered only by a pair of checkered boxers and the towel flung carelessly over his shoulder. His torso was long and rigid, more defined than you had first noticed on the beach the other day. The hard ridges of his abs cast shadows on the plane of his stomach, your eyes danced over them, down to the deep V that disappeared below his waistband.

“What are you looking for?” His words were casual, as if he didn’t notice you staring, but the crooked grin etched on his face told a different story.

“Band-Aids,” you told him, your voice so feeble it did nothing but further reveal your captivation with the sight of him.

The smirk and all its playfulness fell from his face as his eyes filled with concern. 

“Are you still bleeding?” 

“No, I just need to cover it so I can shower. I’m thinking I should probably get the seaweed out of my hair if we’re going out.”

“Y’know if you don’t want to go, we don’t have to. I’d stay back with you,” he offered.

Your eyes fell from his, shuffling your feet uncomfortably, he stumbled over his words to reassure you, “we don’t have to, like, hang out. Just if you’re tired and you’d rather stay in and read or something that’s cool. I would stay down here.”

“You don’t want to hang out with me?” You raised your eyebrows in mock offense.

You were messing with him now, you probably shouldn’t be, but watching him run circles around himself to say the right thing was too fun.

“That’s not what I- I just,” he stuttered. “Here, can you just let me help you?”

He was across the room quick, your bodies close enough to touch for the first time since the dock. He smelled like soap, and something else undefinable and sweetly nostalgic. He reached up, his long frame barely needing to stretch to reach the cabinet above you.

“Doesn’t look like there’s any in here,” he informed you, tall enough to see what you couldn’t. 

“You sure?” You didn’t know why you were questioning him, your flustered state made you defensive.

“You’re welcome to keep jumping to try and see for yourself,” he stepped back to give you space to try again. “You were so close.”

“Don’t be mean,” you smiled.

“I’m serious! It was very cute,” he dropped casually.

Your eyes narrowed as you looked back at him. Despite all his genuine actions today, you couldn’t help but feel suspicious of his intentions.

”What?” He questioned, sensing your hesitancy. 

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that today,” you pointed out, “It’s just kinda weird hearing you say it.”

“I mean it’s not like I’ve never called you cute before,” he reasoned.

“You haven’t,” you said definitively.

“I’m sure-“

“You haven’t. I would remember, believe me.”

You crossed your arms, hands cradling your elbows, feeling like a raw nerve. Rafe took a cautious step toward you, ducking his head slightly to draw your eyes to his, making sure you were listening when he said,

“Just because I didn’t say it doesn’t mean I didn’t think it.”

You instinctually stepped back, his words a little too close to a confession for your comfort. When you pulled away, the back of your leg hit the kitchen counter, making you flinch at the pain of your cut rubbing against the wood.

“I have some waterproof band aids in my room,” he mumbled, his low voice making you wonder for just a second if he really did have them or if this was just a sly way to get you to his room. Sensing your doubt, he doubled down with, “no, honest, I brought a whole first aid kit.”

Convinced, you followed him down the stairs to his basement bedroom. His bed was still pulled away from the wall, but it had seemingly dried. His belongings were strewn about, his book bag unzipped and overflowing with books and papers. You clocked the curious sight, but stayed silent, preoccupied by your sudden aloneness and his half-naked body.

Rafe dug through his suitcase for a moment until, sure enough, he pulled out a bright orange case with a little red cross on the front. You couldn’t help your smile.

“In your boy scout era?” You teased him.

“I’ve been on enough trips with Topper and Kelce to know you should always be prepared for the worst,” he chuckled.

“Ah, little did you know, I was gonna be the worst you needed to prepare for.”

“You? No, you’re the best part of this trip.”

Your throat tightened.

“Oh, really? It’s not your dungeon bedroom?” You pivoted.

“Yeah, I should probably get used to that mildew smell,” Rafe scoffed. “Gonna be living in my parents basement if I don’t pass this summer class.”

He motioned to his backpack, the mystery finally solved. He’d been doing school work down here. Summer classes, surely the answer to his not-graduating problem.

“What are you taking?” You inquired.

“Statistics. I need one more math credit and I just can’t…” he shook his head with self-loathing. “I mean, you know better than anyone. I’ve never been good at math.”

“I don’t think your problem was so much that you weren’t good,” you reasoned. “I think it was more about not applying yourself.”

“Well I’m applying myself now and I still feel like the textbook’s written in another language, so what does that mean?”

“Maybe that you just need some help,” you shrugged.

You could tell he was struggling with himself, and you were overcome with the desire to ease his worry. There are worse things a man can be than bad at math. But with Rafe, things were always all-or-nothing. One flaw meant the whole batch must be bad. 

You felt the urge to jump into tutor-mode and do the hard work for him, but you knew once you crossed that bridge into such familiar territory, there’d be no going back.

Rafe didn’t seem to share your concerns about repeating the past.

“Help from you?”

The way he leaned in when he said it would be almost imperceptible to anyone else, but you’d studied him long enough to notice even the slightest movement. You could feel the air between you tighten, like a rubber band stretching as far as it could go. You broke eye contact before it had the chance to snap.

“Or, like a tutor?” You suggested, reaching for the first aid kit in his hands. “Do they have those at Chapel Hill?”

“They do,” he stepped closer anyway, hand brushing yours as he handed it to you. “But I’d rather have you.”

You cleared your throat, ignoring his attempt to flirt. You decided not to go down this road with him, afraid it would lead to another dead end. 

He watched you dig through the kit for an appropriately sized Band-Aid, fighting the urge to ask if he’d said something wrong. Before he could, you leaned down and attempted to line up the adhesive with your cut, struggling to twist and reach the back of your leg.

“Here, let me.”

Fingers brushing yours, he took the Band-Aid and kneeled down in front of you, one leg under him, one propped up. His hand found your ankle and he guided your leg up so your foot rested on his knee. 

Clouds of foggy attraction swirled in your eyes as you looked down at him. He poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he focused on unwrapping the Band-Aid. You zeroed in on his fingers, long and slender, leading to vein rippled hands that worked diligently to ease your pain. It was enough to knock someone over, but you weren’t going anywhere with his strong thigh holding you up. 

“Since when are you such a gentleman?” You quipped, your decision not to flirt with him thrown out the window at the sight of him on his knees in front of you.

He smiled that satisfied, crooked grin as he gently placed the Band-Aid over your healing cut, “I’m trying.”

He brushed over the edge of the Band-Aid, smoothing it into place with a firm swipe of his thumb. You dreaded the moment he would stand again. As if he could read your mind, he delayed it, his hand lingering on your calf. 

Completely breathless, you watched him consider his next move. For a moment, you thought he was going to let his hand continue to run up your leg, but he stopped himself, bringing it back to your ankle and returning your foot to the ground.

When he stood and looked down at you, he was surprised by the pout of your lips.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged. “You just looked so cute down there.”

Rafe rolled his eyes playfully.

“Thought you didn’t like that word.”

“I don’t remember saying that,” you countered.

“You just don’t like it when I call you cute, then?” 

There it was again, evidence of his genuine desire to understand you. The rubber band tightened again, but this time, it was in your stomach, his sincerity drawing you to him helplessly.

“There’s just so many better things you could call me,” you flirted.

“Yeah?” Excitement coursed through you at his breathy tone. “Like what?”

“My name would be a good start.”

Voice still low, so deep you could feel it more than hear it, he uttered your name. It rolled off his tongue, smooth like honey dripping from his parted lips. The syllables came out with the faintest breath, brushing over your face as the sound swept over you.

Lip tucked between your teeth, you looked at his mouth, as though you could will more soothing sounds to fall from it. As you stared, his lips got closer to you, close enough to touch yours-

“Yo Rafe!”

The sound of Topper’s voice from the top of the stairs startled you so much, you knocked into his bedside table.

“What?” Rafe barked in the direction of Topper’s voice, his harsh, irritated tone in such stark contrast with the sweet way he’d just spoken to you.

“Just letting you know we’re leaving in like an hour,” Topper said.

“Okay?” Rafe snipped.

Topper grumbled something along the lines of “so fucking testy today” as he closed the door, none the wiser to your presence in the basement.

Rafe turned to you, eyes searching your face for a sign he could recover the moment that was so abruptly interrupted. You didn’t meet his eyes. A nervous, pink blush kissed the tips of your cheeks and washed down your chest. The thought of Topper seeing what you were almost doing brought you crashing back to reality. Twice today you had almost let him kiss you, the steel backbone you’d come into this trip with feeling more like glass with every second you spent with him.

“I should probably go start getting ready then,” you said, making your way toward the stairs.

“Right, yeah,” he agreed, defeated.

“Thanks for the Band-Aid.”

“Anytime,” he said. “Anything.”

He stood at the bottom of the stairs as you climbed them. When you reached the door, you opened it just a crack, peeking out of it with paranoid eyes, making sure no one saw you sneak out of his room.

Regret hit him like a tidal wave. He couldn’t even be mad that you were so desperate not to be seen in close quarters with him, because it was exactly the look he’d have on his face when he used to climb out of your car in the school parking lot.

This must be how you felt. He wished for a time machine so he could knock out his teenage self the way he almost knocked out the guy on the dock today. Anyone who made you feel as shitty as he did right now deserved it.

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Finally able to take a painless shower, you took your time under the hot stream of water. Carter sat on the bathroom floor, knees drawn to her chest as you recapped the crazy day.

“I literally thought you might be dead,” she explained.

“How long were we even gone? Half an hour?” You laughed lovingly at her dramatics.

“Are you serious?” 

“What, was it more?” You thought over the time you’d spent with Rafe on the water, in your mind it had flown by fast. Too fast. 

“We got back to the dock a full two hours before you showed up on your Rafe-drawn carriage,” she informed you.

You laughed heartily at the image, your cheeks tinting pink, though you told yourself the flush was just from the hot water.

“What did you guys do out there for two hours anyway?” She asked, not a fan of how silent you’d gone at the mention of Rafe’s name. 

“We just talked,” you said. 

It wasn’t a lie, but it felt like an incomplete truth.

“About?” She pried.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “just, like, life and stuff.”

She snorted skeptically.

“What?”

“I just can’t picture Rafe Cameron having any kind of deep thoughts about life is all,” she explained.

“Well, he’s different now, I guess,” you said feebly.

“Is he though?”

That silenced you. She had a fair point, you had only been talking to Rafe again for a few days, and most of that time was spent with him asking questions about you. You didn’t know him at all really, at least not as well as you used to, not enough to make judgment calls on his character.

Yet there was this instinct that had never really gone away. An invisible tether that connected you to him in a way you’d never experienced with anyone else. He was your sixth sense, you just knew him. You always had.

“I’m gonna go grab my makeup bag,” Carter exited the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

A few moments later, she reentered the room. You felt the words deep in your chest, and even though you knew she may not like them, you needed to let them out.

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Rafe meandered upstairs, looking for Topper’s room so he could borrow a shirt. He hadn’t really packed any going out outfits, picturing himself planted on the beach the whole week. The day he packed felt like a lifetime ago, he had no idea the rollercoaster this trip would turn into. 

Down the hall, the bathroom door was open a crack, steam pouring from it as someone showered. Surely, whoever was in there didn’t intend to leave it open. He made his way towards the door to close it, but stopped short when he heard your familiar voice coming from the shower. He knew he should close the door and walk away, but your words glued him in place.

“I have to be honest with you,” you said. “I know I should hate him, but I don’t. I don’t think I’ll ever hate him.”

Rafe’s heart raced, an optimistic smile spreading across his face. He prayed that he was the ‘him’ you were referring to.

“The sad thing is, if he asked me to, I’d still give him anything he wanted,” you chuckled, surprised by your own words. “If he wanted me, I think I’d be with him.”

He’d never do it, but he seriously considered barging right into your shower and telling you “I want you, you have no idea how badly I want you.” 

But the fantasy was cut short.

“I think I’d hate myself the whole time, though,” you confessed quietly.

At that, he actually did close the door, heart sinking, wishing he could dissolve into the floor.

His whole life, people found it hard to love him. They may not say it to his face, but he picked up on more than people thought. He exhausted his family, his irresponsibility and impulsivity were a pain to them since he was a kid. He disappointed his father, he knew he wasn’t the heir to the Cameron throne Ward had hoped for. And he’d fumbled you completely, the best friend he ever had. 

Since then, everything he did was out of self-protection. He ghosted girls at school before they got the chance to reject him, he didn’t reply to texts from friends for fear of being ignored first. He picked fights and pushed people away, running from rejection like a monster in the dark.

But this week, for just a moment, he thought maybe he could finally stop running. He thought maybe he’d finally found something that was worth the risk. He had never felt so safe, so seen, as he did today when you were talking to him. 

Then your words shook him from his delusions. He could handle his family’s disappointment and his friends’ exasperation. But your resentment? Knowing that being with him made you hate yourself? He just could not afford it. He wouldn’t survive it.

Closing the bathroom door had a finality to it, the click of the handle a sign of a decision made. He would stop pursuing you. He’d get through this trip, graduate school, and finally move on. If not for his sake, for yours. He was bad for you. You knew it, Carter knew it, he knew it. For your sake and his, he decided to let you go.

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The Ubers arrived around nine. The boys were showered, dressed, and ready by 8:30, chilling on the couch watching baseball and drinking their pregame beers. Topper kept an eye on his phone, watching the little cars get closer to the house.

“Ride’s almost here and they’re really not ready,” Topper sighed.

“Did you really expect anything else?” Kelce threw back another beer.

“Wanna take it easy tonight, man?” Rafe recommended, no one needed a reminder of the damage Hurricane Kelce had caused the last time he was shitfaced.

“No, actually, I don’t,” Kelce laughed.

Rafe reached across the couch, Topper ducking out of the way of his swift arm as he snatched the beer from Kelce’s hand.

“I’m getting you some water,” Rafe said. “I’m not babysitting your drunk ass all night.”

Rafe stood over the kitchen sink, filling a glass for Kelce. The water rose over the cup’s edge and overflowed onto his hands, but he didn’t even notice. He was lost in thought, thinking about your cry after falling off the jet ski, your lip pulled between your teeth when he almost kissed you, your words in the shower…

“Thirsty?” He heard you say behind him. 

He turned to look at you, nearly dropping the glass.

Rafe was resolved. He couldn’t risk the sting of your rejection, and he couldn’t afford the price of your resentment. There would be no more chasing you, no moves made, no plays attempted. It was settled, he was done.

Then he saw you in that fucking dress. 

(Chapter 6: part two)

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a/n: oops another two part chapter cause the word count got away from me againnnn :) will try my best to post pt 2 this weekend!

and if I wrote a bonus blurb about what happened in Carter’s bedroom what then? A smutty little Carrot Top side quest? How would we feel about that?

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