#some people don’t appreciate that just saying

[dirtypuzzle]

well, i hate to be the one to say it, but they burnt their political capital on something that was both incredibly necessary and unbelievably insufficient, further entangling american healthcare into unprecedented levels of tomfuckery. if you actually go digging into the myriad ways our healthcare systems is fucked, i don’t even think M4A would fix it without the kind of backend policywork that a) makes terrible campaign copy, and b) is really fucking hard to get right.

like. M4A is the end goal, in that i think single payer is the most likely thing to work once we get there, but getting from A to B isn’t just difficult, it’s fighting against all tenets of systemic and bureaucratic inertia in ways few people are really appreciating. if we were to slap M4A on this steaming pile of horseshit, it would probably fail hard, and then we’d be even farther away from decent healthcare.

the ACA is very similar. it did some of the backend work that nobody ever wants to explain or talk about, and no matter how good a tourniquet, those aren’t meant to stay on longterm. the ACA’s requirement that insurers spend 80-85% of every dollar on medical payouts, for example, while intended nobly, ended up incentivizing providers to jack up prices and insurers to allow it bc 15% of a big number is still more than 15% of a smaller number. most providers, especially hospitals, don’t even know what their prices should be, that’s how skewed it is, and they have no incentive to find out. hospital costs jumped 159% between 1997 and 2012. i don’t have the numbers off hand, but i’m sure even post-COVID costs have fucking skyrocketed.

the fight i’ve been fighting, and mostly losing, is convincing people to see both the macro and the micro, the newtonian politics and the quantum. you’re fighting on two fronts, and as with any war on two fronts, you can lose by losing either, but you can’t win without winning both.

you’re fighting a global wave of fascism, which is aided by wealth inequality not seen in centuries but whose bigotry becomes self-sustaining and which cannot be only solved by improving material conditions. you’re also fighting the corruptive force of late-stage capitalism, whose biggest players have incentive to fuel right-wing extremism and whose influence taints most aspects of society’s mainstay institutions.

on one side, the rhetorical fight to convince the populace to support you while protecting vulnerable populations and containing the spread of fascism. on the other, unknotting decades of bad policy, republican sabotage, and bad law—what to keep, what to throw out, and what to rewrite to be more tailored or targeted.

you have to be right, and you have to sell it; you have to be looking at the big picture, but that can’t come at the cost of day-to-day governance and politicking.

which is mostly moot now anyway bc trump won. we’re gonna be in survival mode for the forseeable future. but let it be said that leftists fight on one front, and liberals fight the other, but they rarely coordinate; both have sabotaged efforts to coordinate in the past, the macron situation in france being the most recent. of course, liberals in power aren’t the same as the liberal populace, but i think i’ve gotten off-topic enough on this post already.

I have more than one person in the notes of my post saying they did not in fact know that the ACA stopped insurance companies from being able to deny coverage for a pre-existing condition in case you were wondering where we're at. People don't know the ACA and Obamacare are the same thing, they don't know it's why they have healthcare, they don't even know what it does. How do you even deal with that?

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Food in Fiction Writing

Often, we structure our days around food; a family meal, the office lunch break, dinner out with friends or maybe late-night instant ramen to get you through a deadline. But how do you include these moments in fiction writing? And what can you make this say about your characters?

Food as Habit

Giving your character eating habits and tastes can really flesh them out.

Try to think about where they eat, who with, and what?

Habits make our characters come alive, giving them the sort of real interior life that readers can identify with.

Make use of their tastes in moments of emotion – after a climactic moment, do they come home and relax by cooking, or try and escape to a fancy restaurant among friends – or do they not have the energy to eat at all?

Food is a great way to show character rather than telling.

Food as Subtext

Another great way food can show instead of telling is to use it in a conversation, when people are saying one thing but meaning another.

Often, when people argue, it starts off as a small problem – like burning the dinner, or what restaurant to choose.

Use food as a starting point in conversations when people are letting out their emotions through another meaning.

Let your characters debate their marriage through a restaurant without enough vegetarian options, or show someone’s romantic interest through appreciation of a badly cooked meal.

Food as Structure

You can show a lot about the order of a character’s life through when they eat.

Meals are a very everyday moment in your story that can provide order or disorder – if your character has to meet someone for lunch, obstacles preventing this can provide tension.

Eating is often entangled with a tight sense of time, so use this to your advantage.

Even small moments of tension and disorder can add a lot to your story.

Food as Sensation

Food invites rich and flavourful description.

All our senses are engaged while eating – not just sight and taste.

Think about how you can describe the intense smell of a curry, the way it feels as you chew it, the sizzling sound of the frying pan and the bubbling of the rice.

Create a rich sensory experience in your reader, maybe try and make them hungry.

A full-bodied description will make your scene come alive.

Food as Setting

Food is rich in cultural associations and tradition.

Do some research into where you are setting your story and explore what people there eat, when, and why – your character might be eating Sil (pickled herring) in midsummer, as is the tradition in Sweden, or celebrating Diwali with Besan Ladoo and other Indian sweets.

It is important to build a sense of specificity into the food.

But don’t fall into the trap of problematic food and cultural stereotypes – a character could just as easily be eating a burrito in Manchester as in Cancun, Mexico.

Food is often a shortcut to cultural understanding.

In the same way that literature connects stories with disparate readers, food itself acts as a vehicle for empathy in the communication between cultures and communities; both food and literature connect the self to the other in an act of empathy.

The act of eating is intimate, and hunger is vulnerable.

Picture your protagonist at her weakest, then give her a big plate of meaty spaghetti bolognaise, a Styrofoam tray of late-night cheesy chips, a ripe fresh peach, a hot bowl of Pho, or maybe an ice cream sundae.

At once, the writing will be enhanced simply for all of the rich sensory detail, and we will also see this character more clearly – she is given something physical, and a tension rises between the comfort of the food and the struggle of her situation, whatever it may be.

Stories thrive on tension and its release, and food is an incredible tool to either deflate or enhance that tension.

Food is inexorably connected to humanity, and so naturally plays a significant role in literature.

Food writing offers sensuality, symbolism, tension and empathy – for your readers and your characters alike. 

Even if you're not writing foodie fiction or lavish descriptions of every meal, you can still use food to help readers learn about your characters. For example:

A character you want to depict as adventurous might try unusual foods from their region, like crunchy grasshoppers or grubs for an American, or a character can show that they're stressed and busy by forgetting to eat or chowing down on prepackaged food because they don't have time to cook.

You can show readers a character's heritage or familial background by having them cook or remember beloved family recipes, or demonstrate that they're artistic by having them plate their food beautifully.

A tip for writing about food is to use all 5 senses in your descriptions to really help your reader see, smell, taste, feel, and even hear the food.

Try and avoid words that are general and can make it hard to envision something specific. Let's take an apple.

We could call it delicious and beautiful, but that doesn't help us understand the specifics of what it looks and tastes like.

But if we say that it's shiny red, that it smells fruity, tastes sweet but also puckeringly tart, and that your teeth crunch on its firm white flesh, you can almost envision it yourself.

Wine-tasting can help you find words for fleeting and elusive flavors.

Keep a book of adjectives that work well for flavors: salty, sour, sweet, sugary, sharp, spicy.

Smell is important too: vinegary, burnt, fishy, fruity.

Temperature may be a little easier: hot, warm, cool, cold, iced.

Texture: dry, slippery, hard, damp, nutty. And so on.

How to Describe Food in Writing ⚜ The Vocabulary of Wine

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[blog-o-meter]

25 - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader

summary: (Y/N) decides to get her brother’s best friend’s attention and he’s more than willing to give it to her.

warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, brother’s best friend!nicholas, dominant tease/bratty submissive, slow burn, forbidden romance??, implied age gap but not by much tbh it’s mostly just power dynamic

required listening: 25 by Veruca Salt

word count: 7,742

a/n: ik I try to wait a week between fics but I’m sawriiii I just loved this one too much to not post immediately. I do have another fic in the drafts but honestly I hate it now so I don’t think I’ll post that one. anyway im already planning on continuing this one YUPPPPP 🙂‍↕️ i just love listening to my playlist and writing xoxo lmk if you’re a veruca salt fan

reblogs, likes, and replies are greatly appreciated and let me know if you'd like to see more!

I never meant to eavesdrop on my brother’s conversations with him — Nicholas. Their voices, along with the sounds of Call of Duty blasting through the tv speakers, always managed to spill through the Jack and Jill bathroom that bridged our bedrooms. I would catch myself lingering by the bathroom door, my book or phone in hand as a cover, pretending I just happened to be nearby. My brother would crack some joke, and Nicholas’s laugh would come through low and warm, and my skin would prickle at the sound. Or sometimes I’d even hear the salacious stories of Nicholas and his fling of the week. Either way, I listened intently.

Nicholas and my brother have been best friends for years. He just showed up to the house one day and just kept coming back, like what happens whenever you find your best friend for life, like how I did. But my brother and I don’t run in the same circles, not really; he has his friends, and I have mine — and they never mixed, not even at our backyard cookouts where we’d each invite a friend or two. We always found ourselves at opposite corners of the house, and it was probably because they were a little older than us.

As a result, I never bothered, or was too nervous, to exchange more than a few words with Nicholas other than the occasional polite conversation, but he always managed to get under my skin either way. It was like he knew, somehow, like he could see right through me, past all my attempts at being casual or indifferent.

I couldn’t control the way my heart skipped a beat every time Nicholas’s eyes flicked over to me whenever I’d pass by them in the living room or as we passed around plates at the dinner table, especially not when I’d pass by him in the hallway and he’d flash me that all-too-famous smirk. I guess that’s why I eavesdropped on them; it was the only way I got to know him without having to say a word to him.

So, I didn’t know what was so different about that night that I just had to get Nicholas’s attention somehow, even if for just a second. I wasn’t sure if I would’ve bumped into him in the hallway, or even the bathroom, or not, but I still decided to slip into the skimpiest set of pajamas I had — a delicate pair of shorts that barely reached the back of my thighs and a camisole that clung to me like second skin. My mom had told me to never wear it whenever there were people over; it was “too revealing.”

“(Y/N)!” My brother’s voice traveled through the bathroom, shouting over his TV.

Hesitantly, I rolled out of my bed, my sock-covered feet quietly shuffling across the floor over to the bathroom. Before I reached the door to his room, I looked down at myself and suddenly grew shy. Maybe I was trying too hard. Would Nicholas notice? Second guessing my sudden boldness, I carefully hid half my body behind the door frame when I cracked open the door to his room.

My eyes flickered to Nicholas, who was perched on the edge of my brother’s bed, controller in hand, leaning forward slightly as he focused on the screen. He didn’t look over right away, but the second I peeked through the crack of the door, his gaze shifted back and forth between me and the TV, his thumbs hesitating on the controller.

“Yeah?” I asked quietly, trying to sound as casual as possible, one of my feet cricketing against the other. 

My brother barely glanced at me, his eyes glued to the team deathmatch round they were playing. “Do we still have any snacks left in the pantry or did you finish them?”

I hesitated, feeling Nicholas’s eyes on me. His gaze lingered, scanning over what little of me was visible behind the door. His dark brown eyes were unreadable, but there was something in his expression, something curious, that made me feel both exposed and exhilarated.

“Yeah, there’s still some cookies and chips. I'm not a vacuum,” I said finally, my voice softer now and muttering the last part. I rested my cheek against the frame, my gaze flickering between Nicholas, the floor, and my brother.

“Could you bring us some?” My brother asked, his fingers violently attacking the buttons on the controller, the sounds of loud gunshots and footsteps responding to his every button mash. “We’re in the middle of a round.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice even. I pushed off the doorframe and stepped back into the bathroom, catching the way Nicholas’s gaze dropped briefly, taking in more of me now that I wasn’t partially hidden.

I ducked back into my room, the air feeling heavier as I padded toward the kitchen. My heart was racing, every nerve in my body alive with the lingering awareness of his gaze. It wasn’t just my brother’s casual request that stuck with me, but the way Nicholas had looked at me — like I wasn’t just his friend’s little sister sneaking glances from behind doors.

In the kitchen, I opened the pantry and pulled out the cookies and chips, my nerves bubbling as I anticipated the moment I’d walk into my brother’s room wearing this outfit. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected — maybe a quick glance and nothing more, but the idea was scintillating either way.

My mom strutted into the kitchen then, still in her work clothes. “I thought I told you not to wear that when people were over,” she smirked knowingly. I had a little bit of a tendency to defy orders.

I glanced over my shoulder, feigning innocence. “It’s hot out,” I shrugged my shoulders as I closed the pantry and scampered past her with snacks in tow.

I returned to my brother’s room with the snacks in hand, pausing at the cracked bathroom door before taking a breath and sheepishly walking in. I stepped fully into the room, my bare legs feeling more exposed than they ever had before. “Here,” I called, keeping my tone neutral, like nothing about this moment felt significant, even though my pulse told a different story.

My brother barely spared me a glance as I set the snacks down in front of them, his attention glued to the screen. Nicholas, on the other hand, wasn’t as discreet. He leaned back slightly, one arm draped over his knee as he finally looked up from the game. His dark brown eyes swept over me, slow and deliberate, lingering just long enough to make me feel like every inch of my skin was on display under his gaze.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t smirk or tease the way he usually did. My cheeks burned as I shifted on my feet, my fingers brushing against the hem of my shorts, unsure what to do with myself.

“Thanks, (Y/N),” Nicholas said finally, his voice cutting through the tension. It was smooth, casual.

I smiled softly, more out of nerves than anything else, and started to retreat toward the door. “Don’t get used to it,” I mumbled, glancing over my shoulder. I cast one last glance at Nicholas. He was still watching me, his head tilted slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was suppressing a smirk. It was like he knew exactly what I was doing.

Now, I don’t know why I did it, maybe because I was so flustered that I didn’t notice or maybe I subconsciously knew what I was doing, but I left my bathroom door open just a smidge, enough for the soft light of my room to spill out and shine through the darkness of the bathroom, like a beacon in the night begging to be followed. Maybe it was a dare, or maybe I was just curious to see if he’d take the bait.

I threw myself onto my bed, stomach down, trying to calm my ever-racing heart as I replayed the moment Nicholas’s gaze lingered on me. I couldn’t bite back the smile forming on my lips as I pictured the look in his eye when I walked into the room. It sent a thrill through me. Did I finally manage to pique his interest as much as he piqued mine?

My heartbeat was unrelenting, so I reached for the book on my nightstand, hoping that reading a few pages might calm me. Of course, though, I wasn’t focusing on the pages. How could I? When my older brother’s hot best friend was right on the other side of that door?

Eventually, the sound of video games and laughter died down as the minutes ticked into the late night, replaced by muffled conversation before trailing off into complete silence. The only sound I could hear, now, was the occasional turn of the page and my thumping heartbeat, maybe the imperceptible hum of the lightbulb coming from my bedside lamp.

And on the other side, Nicholas could also hear the faint scratch of a page turning, too. He was lying down in his makeshift bed of blankets on the floor, quietly scrolling on his phone. The screen of his phone cast a faint glow on his face, but his attention wasn’t on the timeline of tweets he had planned on reading through. It was on that tiny crack of light spilling into the dark bathroom, the faintest view of my room on the other side.

He couldn’t sleep. How could he? The tight, little number I was bold enough to wear but still shy enough to hide behind the door frame, the way I glanced at him when I passed through to give them snacks, the subtle sway of my hips as I disappeared back into the bathroom to my room as if I hadn’t worn that number on purpose. And now, the crack in my door was basically daring him to walk through.

I didn’t know it, but it wasn’t the first time he’d noticed me. He always looked forward to seeing me scamper through the kitchen as quickly as possible whenever they took it over for whatever they were doing, and he was always equally curious about what would happen behind my door, especially when he could hear me laughing with my friends or my CD player blasting Veruca Salt.

His friend — my brother — was out cold, snoring like a chainsaw. Nicholas glanced at him, then back at the door, then back at him, then back at the door. It was a bad idea; he knew it. I was off-limits. My brother hadn’t told him that explicitly, but he did express his distaste when Nicholas made an off-handed comment about me some a couple years ago and that was enough to deter him. But tonight, my brother was asleep, while Nicholas and I were still awake.

Nicholas turned his phone off then, quietly pulling the blanket off himself and standing up, padding quietly to the bathroom and closing the door to my brother’s room behind him. He tiptoed toward my door, taking a peek through the crack and hoping that maybe just indulging himself in the image of me would satiate him. But the moment he saw me on my bed — twiddling with the end of a braid or two or many as I laid on my stomach, propped up on my elbows as I read, my legs crossed at the ankles, the pajamas I wore barely covering anything — he knew just looking wouldn’t be enough.

My heart raced when I heard the faint creak of my door, but I didn’t look up right away, choosing to pretend I was so engrossed in my book that I couldn’t be bothered to see what had made the noise. What did make me glance over my shoulder, though, was the light clinking of glass.

I turned my head and saw Nicholas leaning against the doorframe curiously inspecting a nail polish I had left on the dresser that was near the bathroom door, a smirk on his face. That set my heart racing.

“Nicholas,” I spoke quietly as I closed the book in my hands, watching him as he continued to fiddle with the things on my dresser — nail polishes, bracelets, a hairbrush.

Nicholas didn’t say anything at first, just let his dark brown eyes sweep across my dresser one last time before they swept across my room, then finally landed on me and took in the scene — the book in my hands, the way I was sprawled across the bed, the faint flush on my cheeks that I couldn’t seem to shake.

He glanced over his shoulder back toward my brother’s bathroom door, still closed, before looking back at me. “Are you usually up this late?” he said finally, his voice low, like he was afraid of breaking the stillness of the moment.

I turned onto my side, giving him a better view of me in my pajamas. His gaze lingered on my torso, and I bit back a smile. “Sometimes.”

He dropped his arms and stepped in, his movements unhurried as he quietly closed the door behind him and looked around my room. I couldn’t believe it. He was in my room.

“Your brother’s out cold,” he said, almost like an explanation, as if I didn’t already know. He turned his head to look at the Heart poster on my wall, arching his back to stretch, his shirt riding up a little to show off the happy trail adorning his lower abdomen. I just about choked at the sight.

When he looked back at me, he had that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “You left your door open.”

“Did I?” I asked quietly, lying back down on my stomach but looking at him over my shoulder.

His smirk deepened, like he didn’t believe me for a second. “Didn’t you?”

My stomach flipped, the challenge in his tone making it impossible to look away, but I had to if I didn’t want him to see the heat rising to my cheeks. So I turned my attention back to my book but the words blurred together. I couldn’t focus, not at all. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

He stepped further into the room until he was at the edge of my bed looking down at me, still smirking. “You don’t sound very convincing.”

I shrugged, letting my fingers trail along the edge of the pages. I decided to give him an out, something that would test his resolve. “My brother’s gonna kill you if he finds out.”

He hesitated, just for a moment, before sitting down next to me. The mattress dipped under his weight, and I shifted slightly to face him. “I know,” he whispered as his eyes trailed my bare legs.

He slowly laid down on his side beside me, and it all started with a touch — his hand reaching out to rest on my thigh, his palm hot against my skin. My breath hitched, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I let my leg drift closer toward him, the faintest encouragement.

“I should go,” he murmured softly, his fingers brushing up and stopping just short at the hem of my shorts. His eyes flicked up to mine, gazing at me through his abundance of eyelashes.

I couldn’t look away from his dark brown eyes, the way they softened as they met mine, yet held something deeper — something that made my pulse race. I was quiet for a moment, savoring the heat of his hand on my hand, the warmth spreading all over my body. “Yeah, you should,” I whispered, my voice lacking any real conviction.

Neither of us moved.

Nicholas’s lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he just watched me, his gaze flicking to my lips, then back to my eyes. His hand inched higher, stopping just at the edge of my shorts again, as if he were waiting for a signal. And I gave him it, letting my book fall through my fingers and shifting closer toward him.

That was all it took. He leaned in, his hand sliding up my thigh as his lips captured mine in a kiss that stole the air from my lungs. It was slow at first, like he was testing the waters, but it didn’t take long for the tension between us to boil over. Quickly, the kiss deepened. His hands roamed, pulling me closer as I melted into him, my fingers tangling in his hair.

“Tell me to go,” he murmured against my lips, his breath warm on my skin.

I tugged him closer, “Stay.”

Nicholas’s weight pressed into the mattress as he rolled me over, his hands sliding along the curve of my waist and down to my hips as our legs tangled together. My fingers curled into the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him closer as the world outside my room melted away. Every shift of his body against mine, every brush of his fingertips against bare skin, ignited a fire I couldn’t ignore.

His lips trailed down to my jaw, slow and deliberate, sending a wave of heat rushing through me. His breath was warm against my neck, and I arched into him instinctively, feeling his body tense in response.

I tugged at the hem of his shirt, and he obliged, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor. My eyes traced the lines of his shoulders, the way his muscles moved as he leaned back down, his delicate chain dangling over me, his hands framing my face like he needed to commit every detail to memory. My own hands wandered, exploring the warmth of his skin, the tension in his back as he pressed closer.

The cool air hit my skin as he slid the strap of my camisole off my shoulder, his lips replacing it with a trail of soft, heated kisses that moved to my collarbone. My heart raced as I looked up at the ceiling of my room, every sense heightened as his hands roamed lower, his touch firm but unhurried.

My breath caught in my throat as Nicholas’s lips continued their slow descent, every kiss igniting sparks along my skin. My hands moved of their own accord, tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as I arched into his touch. His hand slid under the hem of my camisole, his fingers splaying over my ribs as he paused to look at me, his dark brown eyes asking the silent question.

I nodded, and his lips were back on mine in an instant, the kiss growing more intense, as he bunched the fabric in his palm and pulled it off of me, leaving me bare-chested. He pulled back and drank the sight of me in, his jaw going tight as he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against mine.

For a moment, I grew self-conscious, thinking maybe he would pull away completely now that he’s seen me half-naked. Maybe I didn’t measure up to the girls he’s been with. “Is something wrong?” I quietly asked.

Nicholas shook his head almost immediately, his forehead still resting against mine as he let out a shaky breath. His hands moved to cradle my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks as his dark brown eyes opened to meet mine. They were softer now, but no less intense.

“No, fuck no,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, like he was trying to find the right words and failing. He pulled back just enough to look at me, his brown eyes locking onto mine. “You’re perfect, (Y/N). That’s the problem.”

The raw honesty in his tone made my breath hitch, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. I swallowed hard, my gaze dropping for a moment before flicking back up to him. “Then why did you—?”

“I needed a second,” he interrupted softly, his voice almost strained as he cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing over my flushed skin. “You’re just—you’re making it really hard to be the good guy here.”

His words sent a rush of heat through me, my heart pounding in my chest as I searched his face. “I’m not asking you to be the good guy,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.

“You sure?” he murmured against my lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because if we do this, there’s no going back. Your brother’s gonna kill me if he finds out, and I don’t—” He broke off, his jaw tightening as he pulled back to look at me again. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

I reached up to frame his face, my thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as I held his gaze. “I want this, Nic,” I said softly, my voice steady now despite the chaos in my chest.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his eyes searching mine like he was trying to figure out if I really meant it. Then, with a quiet curse, he groaned quietly, like he was fighting an internal battle, before he leaned down to kiss me again. This time, it wasn’t tentative or testing — it was all-consuming.

I gasped softly into the kiss, my hands gripping his shoulders as he pulled me closer, his body pressing against mine with a heat that made it impossible to think straight. His hands slid down my sides, his touch rougher now, less restrained, like he was done holding himself back.

Nicholas’s lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, and I couldn’t bite back the quiet moan that escaped me. He groaned in response, his fingers gripping my hips tightly as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. “Jesus, baby, you’re gonna wake the whole house,” he muttered, his voice rough and muffled against my skin.

I let out a breathless laugh, tugging on his hair to make him look at me. “You’re the one talking so much,” I shot back, my voice barely above a whisper.

His dark eyes narrowed slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in annoyance. “Oh, is that right?” he said, his tone low and dangerous as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear. “You’re the one moaning like you don’t give a shit if your brother hears us.”

My cheeks burned, and I glared at him, my hand smacking lightly against his chest. “You’re an asshole,” I muttered, but the smirk at the end of my lips betrayed any conviction I’d intended to convey.

Nicholas caught my wrist gently, grinning and clearly pleased with himself, and pinned it against the pillows above my head, “And you’re a fucking tease,” he whispered, a teasing glint in his eyes. He planted a wet kiss on my lips, murmuring, “Okay, we both stay quiet then, deal?”

I bit my lip, narrowing my eyes at him, the corner of my mouth twitching with a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Fine,” I whispered, my voice barely audible but dripping with playful defiance.

Nicholas’s grin deepened, and he leaned down, brushing his nose against my own before pulling back completely and resting back on his heels as his fingers trailed down to the waistband of my shorts. His fingers lingered, his touch light but deliberate as his dark brown eyes locked onto mine. His teasing smirk faltered, replaced by something softer, something that made my heart pound harder than I thought possible. He hesitated for just a second, like he needed one last confirmation, and I gave him a small nod, my breath catching in my throat as I lifted my hips slightly.

He exhaled softly, almost like he was steadying himself, before he slid my shorts and underwear down in one smooth motion, leaving me completely bare beneath him. The air felt cool against my skin, and I had to fight the instinct to cover myself. Instead, I forced myself to hold his gaze, my cheeks flushed and my heart racing.

Nicholas’s eyes swept over me, slow and deliberate, like he was committing every detail to memory. He let out a quiet curse, his jaw tightening as he ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he leaned down to rest his forehead on my stomach and leaving lingering kisses near my navel.

My fingers instinctively found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as I looked down at him. He rested there for a moment, his breath warm against my skin as he closed his eyes, like he needed a second to process everything.

I let out a soft laugh, the sound trembling slightly as I tugged gently on his hair. “You’re so dramatic,” I teased, my voice light but full of warmth. “Are you sure you’ve seen a girl naked before?”

He shot his head up, his eyebrows flared in surprise, and for a split second, I thought I might’ve caught him off guard. But then his smirk returned, sharper now, and he grabbed both my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head as he shifted to cover me completely. “Oh, you’re gonna regret saying that,” he growled playfully, his voice dropping an octave as his free hand skimmed down my side, his touch light but promising.

I squirmed under him, trying to hide the way his teasing touch was already getting to me. I don’t know what it was about Nicholas that brought out this side of me — teasing, defiant — but I loved it.

“You’re such a—” My words cut off in a gasp as he pressed his hips against mine, the sudden pressure of his sweatpants against my bare self making me lose my train of thought completely.

Nicholas chuckled softly, the sound low and dangerous as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “What was that, baby?” he murmured, his tone smug. “You were saying something?”

I glared at him, my cheeks burning, and wriggled my wrists under his palm, “Nic, the longer you’re not inside me, the more time you’re giving my brother to wake up.”

Nicholas froze, his dark eyes widening for just a second before narrowing into something almost predatory. The smirk tugging at the corner of his lips turned wicked, and his grip on my wrists tightened slightly as he pressed his forehead against mine. But then, he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Fine,” he murmured, his tone dropping even lower, sending a shiver down my spine.

He released my wrists, and I immediately brought my hands to his chest, letting my fingers trail over the defined muscles before sliding them down toward the waistband of his sweatpants. My heart raced, my cheeks burning as I hooked my fingers under the fabric.

Nicholas shifted slightly, propping himself on his elbows as he watched me, his dark eyes hooded with intensity. The faint smirk tugging at his lips remained as I hesitated for a moment, my fingers gripping the waistband of his sweatpants. I could feel his breath on my skin, warm and steady, as if he were daring me to go further.

Slowly, deliberately, I tugged the fabric down his hips, the soft material sliding against his skin. His muscles tensed slightly beneath my touch, and I couldn’t help the way my breath hitched as his length slipped out — ready and aching. The tension between us was palpable, the room heavy with anticipation as I pushed his sweatpants lower until they pooled around his knees.

Nicholas’s hands found my hips, his grip firm but not rough as he leaned down to kiss me again, his lips capturing mine in a way that made me forget everything else. His body pressed against mine, the heat of his skin sending a rush of warmth through me as his hands trailed up my sides, fingers skimming the sensitive skin just beneath my ribs.

For a moment, we just stayed like that, our breaths mingling as we stared at each other, the unspoken tension between us reaching its peak. Nicholas’s gaze was intense, his dark eyes searching mine as if he were asking for permission one last time.

I didn’t bother nodding. Instead, I reached to wrap my hand around his length and guide him in, to which Nicholas responded by burying his head in the crook of my neck and muttering a quiet, “Fuck,” before reaching to replace my hand with his own. “You’re so wet already.”

The air seemed to still, the only sound in the room being the soft rustle of sheets and our breathing — ragged, uneven. Nicholas moved slowly at first, his grip on my hips tightening as he inserted himself into me. I let out a whimper as I felt every inch of him, the way he stretched and filled me, his warmth burning into me like a fire I never wanted to put out.

My hand found its way to his back, my nails digging lightly into his skin as I arched beneath him, a quiet gasp slipping past my lips. “Nic…” His name came out in a breathy whisper, and the sound of it seemed to spur him on. His hips moved, deliberate and measured, and every movement sent shockwaves through me.

“Baby,” he murmured into my neck, his voice strained and breathless. “You feel so fucking good.”

The heat pooling in my stomach grew with every roll of his hips, my body responding to him in a way that felt instinctual, like I had been waiting for this moment all along. His hand slid down to grip my thigh, pulling it higher around his waist as he angled himself deeper, drawing a sharp cry from me that I quickly muffled with my free hand.

“Shh,” he teased softly, his lips brushing against my ear as he chuckled, though his voice was tight with restraint. His breath was warm against my skin as he added, “You don’t want your brother barging in, do you?”

I shot him a glare through my haze of pleasure, but it was useless. Nicholas was in control now, and he knew it. The rhythm of his hips changed, slower but impossibly deeper, making it even harder to stay quiet. I bit down on my lip, my hand reaching to clutch at the sheets as waves of heat rolled through me with every deliberate thrust.

Nicholas shifted slightly, his lips brushing over my jawline before capturing my lips again in a kiss that was just as demanding as the way his body moved against mine. His free hand trailed up my side, his thumb grazing over the sensitive skin just below my ribs, making me shiver beneath him. His hand trailed further down, pressing down on my lower abdomen as if he could feel himself moving inside.

The added pressure made me gasp, my head tilting back as pleasure rippled through me, sharp and consuming, and quickly I covered my mouth again. Nicholas groaned in response, the sound low and guttural, and I realized just how loud he was getting. My heart raced, panic and desire tangling together as I reached up and pressed my other hand over his mouth, muffling the next moan that slipped from his lips.

His dark eyes widened in surprise for a split second before narrowing, a flicker of something mischievous and dangerous sparking there. His hips slowed, the deliberate roll of his body against mine making my own breathing hitch. He didn’t protest my hand, though — instead, he leaned into it, his tongue flicking out to trace along my palm teasingly, his eyes locked onto mine as if daring me to keep him quiet.

I clenched my jaw, trying to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was useless. Every movement of his hips, every flick of his tongue against my skin, was breaking me down piece by piece. He shifted slightly, angling deeper, and I bit down hard on my lip to stop the moan that threatened to escape.

I peeled the hand I had over my mouth, “Nic,” I hissed under my breath, my voice shaking as I glared at him. “You’re impossible.”

He grinned against my hand, his dark eyes hooded and filled with heat as his hips rolled again, drawing another muffled gasp from me. His free hand slid up my thigh, gripping firmly before pulling my leg higher around his waist, allowing him to press even deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, and my fingers flexed against his face as I tried to stifle my own sounds.

Nicholas groaned again, louder this time, and I pressed my hand harder against his mouth, shooting him a warning look. “Shh,” I whispered harshly, my voice trembling as I struggled to keep my own composure.

He nodded slightly, his lips brushing against my palm in silent agreement, but the way his hips moved told me he had no intention of slowing down. If anything, his pace quickened, each thrust more precise, more deliberate, as if he were testing just how far he could push me before I completely unraveled.

My hand stayed over his mouth, but I could feel the vibrations of his muffled groans against my skin, each one sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through me. My free hand clutched at his shoulder, nails digging into his skin as my body arched beneath him, helpless to the rhythm he’d set.

The tension between us was unbearable, every movement, every touch pushing me closer to the edge. My heart pounded in my chest, my breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as I fought to stay quiet, to stay in control. But Nicholas wasn’t making it easy. The hand he was using to press down on my lower abdomen slipped between us, his fingers brushing against the sensitive spot where our bodies met, and I couldn’t stop the sharp cry that escaped me.

His eyes flicked up to mine, a wicked smile tugging at the corners of his lips even as they remained muffled against my hand. He pressed his fingers harder, circling with just enough pressure to send me spiraling. My body tensed, every nerve ending on fire as pleasure crashed over me in waves, and I had to bite down hard on my lip to keep from crying out. That’s when he let go of the thigh he had wrapped around his waist and guided his hand over my mouth, pressing down to muffle my sounds.

And now, we were both there, covering the other’s mouth with our hands, trying so hard to fight back our moans. All we could hear was the sounds of skin and our labored breaths blowing through our nostrils.

The room was thick with tension, every sound amplified as we moved together, muffling each other as if the act itself were part of the thrill. Nicholas’s hand covered my mouth firmly, his dark eyes locking onto mine as his hips drove deeper, more deliberate. Each thrust sent waves of heat rippling through me, my body trembling as I teetered on the edge of control.

My breaths were shallow, uneven, my free hand clutching at his shoulder as the tension in my stomach coiled tighter and tighter. His other hand slid down my thigh, pulling my leg higher around his waist to angle himself deeper, and the sensation was overwhelming. My head tilted back, the cry building in my throat muffled against his palm.

I was close — so close it felt like every nerve in my body was on fire. Nicholas must have sensed it because his pace quickened, his movements more erratic as he chased the edge with me. His lips curved into a smirk against my hand, but the dark intensity in his gaze told me he was just as affected.

When the tension snapped, it was like a dam breaking. My thighs trembled around him, my breaths coming out in sharp, uneven bursts, as I arched beneath him, a wave of pleasure crashing over me so powerful it left me shaking. Nicholas’s hand pressed tighter against my mouth, muffling the sharp cry that escaped me as I clung to him, my nails digging into his back. He groaned in response, his movements faltering as he watched me fall apart beneath him, my hand covering his mouth falling limp over my forehead.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough and strained. His hand stayed firmly over my mouth, his other sliding down to hold my hip as his pace grew erratic, desperate.

I barely had time to catch my breath before I realized he was close too. His movements grew rougher, his control unraveling as his own breathing turned ragged. The hand covering my mouth loosened slightly, and I took the opportunity to nip at his finger, earning a low growl from him as he pulled it away.

Nicholas’s eyes snapped to mine, wide with surprise. “What the hell—” he started, but I cut him off with a fierce whisper.

“You better pull out,” I hissed, my voice sharp despite the trembling in my tone.

Nicholas’s jaw tightened as my words registered, his dark eyes narrowing with a mix of frustration and urgency. His breath hitched, and I could feel the tension radiating off him as he fought for control, his hips stuttering in their rhythm. “I’ve got it,” he muttered, his voice strained and low, almost as if he were trying to reassure himself as much as me.

“Nic,” I pressed, my tone firm despite the lingering haze of pleasure coursing through me. My nails raked lightly down his back, urging him to listen, to not lose himself completely.

He nodded, his movements becoming deliberate, careful. His hand shifted to grip my waist tightly, steadying himself as his breathing grew heavier. “I’m not gonna—” His words cut off with a guttural groan, and I felt his body tremble against mine, his restraint fraying with each passing second.

At the last possible moment, Nicholas pulled out with a strangled curse, his hand reaching down to finish himself. His dark eyes fluttered shut, his jaw clenched as his release spilled across my stomach, warm and lingering. The sight of him unraveling like that, the raw vulnerability etched into his features, made my chest tighten.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was our heavy breathing, his body still hovering above mine as he tried to catch his breath. His head dipped forward, his lips brushing softly against my temple as he whispered, “Are you okay?”

I nodded, my voice catching slightly as I answered, “Yeah, I’m okay.” My hands found his shoulders, grounding both of us as he shifted to sit back on his heels. His gaze softened as it roamed over me, searching for any sign of discomfort or regret.

“I didn’t—” he started, his voice hoarse and unsteady, but I cut him off with a small smile.

“You didn’t,” I reassured him, reaching up to trace the edge of his jaw.

Nicholas exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to my lips. It wasn’t rushed or heated like before; it was gentle, filled with a quiet kind of affection that made my heart ache. When he pulled back, his fingers brushed lightly across my stomach, his touch careful and almost apologetic.

“Let me clean you up,” he murmured, his voice soft as he reached over to grab a discarded shirt, maybe mine, from the edge of the bed.

I rolled my eyes, my lips twitching in amusement as I watched him carefully clean me up, his movements surprisingly gentle despite the teasing smirk still tugging at his lips. When he was done, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to my stomach, his lips lingering for just a moment before lying  down beside me, pulling me into his arms without hesitation. His body was warm and solid against mine, his breathing still slightly uneven as his fingers traced idle patterns on my shoulder.

The silence that followed was thick but not uncomfortable. Nicholas’s fingers moved gently across my skin, as if he were trying to map every inch of me. My cheek rested against his chest, his heartbeat steady and grounding beneath my ear. I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the moment, even as a thousand unspoken thoughts swirled between us.

It felt natural, lying there with him. His hand slipped to my hair, tangling in the strands softly, and I let out a contented sigh. Neither of us said anything for a long time, the stillness interrupted only by the sound of our breaths syncing together.

Nicholas was the one to break the silence, his voice low and husky. “What time is it?”

I blinked, my mind still clouded from everything that had just happened. I tilted my head toward my bedside table, squinting at the digital clock. “Almost three,” I mumbled.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face while tightening the arm he had around me briefly before letting out a resigned sigh. “Your brother’s gonna wake up in a few hours.”

“Exactly,” I muttered, untangling myself from his arms and sitting up, “which is why you need to get out of here.”

Nicholas smirked as he sat up as well, his dark brown eyes watching me closely. “Kicking me out already?” he teased, his voice low and playful. “I’m starting to feel used, baby.”

I rolled my eyes, climbing out of bed and walking past my dirty camisole that was discarded on the floor to reach into my dresser and pull out a clean shirt, “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“You’re the one that asked me to stay,” he quipped, leaning back on his hands as if he had all the time in the world.

I shot him a warning look, but it only seemed to amuse him further. Letting out an exasperated sigh, I grabbed my shorts from the floor as I walked back over to the bed and tossed them in his direction. “If you’re so eager to hang around, you can help me get dressed. I think that’s the least you can do after fucking your best friend’s sister.”

Nicholas froze for a moment, his smirk faltering as his dark eyes widened slightly at my words. A laugh escaped him, low and incredulous, as he shook his head. “Wow, you really don’t hold back, do you?”

I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Am I wrong?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he grabbed my shorts from where they landed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he beckoned me closer with a playful glint in his eyes. “Alright, princess. Let me help.”

With an exaggerated sigh, I stepped closer, though the flush creeping up my neck betrayed my nonchalance. Nicholas patted his thigh, gesturing for me to stand between his legs. His hands were warm as they slid up my calves to my thighs, holding me steady as he crouched slightly to help me into the shorts.

His movements were slow, deliberate, as he guided the fabric up my legs. He tugged the waistband gently, his thumbs brushing against my hips before snapping the shorts into place. His dark eyes flicked up to meet mine, and for a moment, the teasing glint softened into something quieter, something that made my heart stutter.

I reached for the clean shirt I’d left on the bed, but Nicholas beat me to it, picking it up with a smirk. “Arms up,” he instructed, his tone mockingly authoritative as he held the shirt open.

Rolling my eyes but unable to stop the small smile tugging at my lips, I raised my arms, letting him slip the shirt over my head. His hands brushed against my skin as he adjusted the hem, smoothing it down over my waist. When he leaned back on his hands to admire his handiwork, his smirk returned, but it was softer now.

“There,” he murmured, his voice lower now. “Good as new.”

“Thanks,” I said softly, my stomach fluttering. I bent down and reached for Nicholas’s clothes and tossed them to him.

Nicholas caught the bundle of his clothes easily, the smirk on his face growing as he stood to pull his sweatpants back on. I watched as he stuffed his dick into his sweats, my cheeks growing hot as he then slipped into his shirt. The chain around his neck glinted faintly in the dim light as he adjusted it, his dark eyes flicking back to mine.

Nicholas smiled softly, running a hand through his tousled hair as he stepped toward the bathroom door.

I followed him as he reached for the door, keeping my voice low. “Please don’t tell anyone about tonight.”

He turned to face me, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe as his smirk softened into something more genuine. “Relax, baby. Your secret’s safe with me.” The teasing lilt in his voice was gone, replaced by a quiet sincerity that made my chest tighten.

I nodded, swallowing hard as I tried to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. “Good.”

He pushed the door open slowly, peeking into the bathroom to make sure it was still quiet on the other side. Just as he stepped through, he glanced back over his shoulder, his smirk returning in full force. He winked, disappearing into the bathroom with a quiet click of the door.

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile. I stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door as the reality of everything that had just happened settled over me.

My skin still tingled everywhere he’d touched me, his hands, his lips, the way his voice had dropped when he whispered my name. It all replayed in my head, over and over and over. With a deep breath, I turned back to my bed, doing a horrible job of biting back the smirk on my lips.

I should’ve been panicking — thinking about what my brother would do if he found out, but all I could feel was a heady mix of excitement and disbelief. I had just slept with Nicholas, my brother’s best friend.

[revelboo]

AAA I absolutely adore how you write the scavengers, gave me a newfound appreciation for Spinister 🥹

He’s an adorable dummy. I wish IDW had gotten into what exactly happened to him, because he has his moments where you can tell he was brilliant at one point

A Lifeless Ordinary Pt 11

Scavengers x Reader

• “No Spin,” you say, twisting so your back is to the screen as you sit in the crook of his arm where he’s sprawled on the floor. “That’s not-well, I mean some people might, but most people don’t drag the delivery guy and the hot neighbor in the house for a threesome.” Trying to figure out how to explain while also trying your hardest to ignore the over the top moans and wet sounds of the video. Hating that you keep looking despite your insistence that it’s filth. And really hating that you’re not helping fight Swindle’s claim that humans are just obsessed with sex by looking. “Porn’s not exactly the best example of human relationships.” And there’s no way to frame this in your head to make it better. You like your guys, especially since being able to understand them. This, though? Their apparent fascination with sex? You don’t get. Maybe it’s like a train wreck to them. Absolutely horrific even as it’s fascinating.

• Head tipping as he divides his attention between the video and you, Spinister rubs the side of his masked face against your shoulder. “But there’s a name for it,” he says. Watching your little face redden, he vents against you. Unbothered when you push against him with a soft hand, aware of the faint change to your scent that he needs to investigate. Knows you’re unhappy with him, if the details are a bit hazy. Things getting confused in his processor sometimes. But it’s a little easier to focus when you’re around, gravitating toward you, the softness of you in his servos, the sound of your voice. “Interfacing is painful for humans?” He asks, optics narrowing when one of the humans screams.

• “No, it’s-,” you begin, eyes closing because this conversation is painful. “Sex feels good. I guess we’re just vocal?” You mumble, mortified as Spinister tips his head to see you when you weakly shrug and then slides you out of your warm spot to bump his masked jaw against you, rubbing over your legs and belly with his face like an overly affectionate cat while you try to fend him off when he just rumbles at you. And that porn actress is screaming ‘yes!’ over and over. “Pitiful little spikes on them,” Crankcase adds and you look up at him from upside down. Catching your eye, he gestures at the screen. Risking a peek and shivering as some new guy, the pool boy maybe, bends the actress over the edge of the bed and fucks her. Spikes? He can’t be talking about what you think he is. When you frown at him, he traces a shape in the air at his crotch level and, yeah. That’s exactly what he’s talking about. Don’t ask. Don’t. Why would they even need those? Mouth opening and shutting as Crankcase just stares you down like he’s daring you to ask the question. Because your awful little brain is wondering about giant, alien robots fucking.

• “You started without us?” Misfire mutters, watching as Fulcrum stares at the screen, spots you looking at him, and immediately averts his optics in embarrassment as Spinister rumbles at you coaxingly. Striding into the common area, the Seeker sprawls out beside Crankcase, ignoring the other mech’s annoyed rumble to focus on the screen and the humans. Stretching out a ped to tap at Spinister until he turns to frown at him and you look over. “Doing anything for you?” He asks, grinning crookedly as you stiffen and Spin just stares at him blankly. Because teasing you? Too easy, enjoying watching your face redden. “You know, Spin would play medic with you.” Laughing when Spinister looks confusedly from you to him. Hearing him mutter that he is a medic as you put your face in your hands. Venting, he almost laughs. Because, yeah, you’re mortified right now, but you’re also interested, your scent shifting. Something he’s sure they’ve all clued in on in the small space.

• “We have a job. Remember? The job?” Optics narrowing as he’s ignored, Krok vents tiredly and unhooks the datapad to a chorus of complaints and one very small thank you. Glancing at where you’re sprawled on your back almost hidden by Spinister and watching him, he fidgets. That’s going to be a problem sooner or later. Spinister already too clingy and barely understanding boundaries. You’re one of them. An honorary Scavenger, but also so helpless. Knowing you’ll have to stay on the ship alone makes him oddly uneasy. Because if something happens to them? You’ll probably starve to death trapped in the ship or be discovered. Either way? He can’t imagine you’ll survive long without them to take care of you. “Let’s go. You can make the human uncomfortable later.” And your eyes narrow at him as Spinister slowly stands with you and he ignores the way the big medic nuzzles against you. Just like he ignores how protective he feels of you. How much he worries.

Previous

[jxwl4k]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Christmas Eve .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. fluff

☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x reader

⤿ a snowy cityscape on christmas eve.

Snowflakes swirled in the chilly night air, the city glowing with festive lights and bustling with holiday cheer. It was Christmas Eve, and while most people were home celebrating with their loved ones, Pro Hero Dynamight was finishing up his patrol. Katsuki Bakugou trudged through the snow-covered streets, his sharp crimson eyes scanning for any signs of trouble.

It wasn’t like he hated Christmas; he just didn’t see the point in making a big deal about it. Work always came first.

As he rounded a corner, his comm crackled with a familiar voice.

“All clear in my sector,” you reported. Your voice had a calm warmth to it, one that Bakugou had grown to appreciate more than he cared to admit.

“Same here,” he grunted.

You had been paired with him for tonight’s patrol, which wasn’t unusual since you often worked together. As a pro hero, you were one of the few people who could match his intensity in the field, though your personalities were polar opposites. While Bakugou was fiery and brash, you were calm and steady—a balance he never knew he needed until he met you.

As your shift came to an end, you and Bakugou met up at a small park in the heart of the city. The place was almost magical, with twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the trees and a large Christmas tree standing in the center, its ornaments shimmering in the soft glow of the streetlamps.

“You don’t look very festive,” you teased as you approached him, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck.

“Tch. Like I’ve got time for all that crap,” Bakugou muttered, though his gaze softened slightly as he looked at you.

You chuckled, reaching into your bag and pulling out a thermos. “Hot chocolate?”

He raised an eyebrow but accepted the cup you poured for him. After taking a sip, his lips curved into a small, satisfied smirk. “Not bad.”

“You’re welcome,” you said playfully, sitting down on a nearby bench.

For a while, the two of you sat in companionable silence, watching the snow fall and the occasional group of carolers pass by. It was rare for either of you to get moments like this, away from the chaos of hero work.

“So,” you began, breaking the silence, “any plans for the rest of the night?”

“Just headin’ home,” he said with a shrug, though there was a hint of something else in his voice—maybe hesitation.

You tilted your head, studying him. “No family dinner? No holiday party?”

He scoffed. “You know I’m not into that crap.”

You smiled softly. “Yeah, I know.”

There was a pause, and then, to your surprise, Bakugou spoke again.

“What about you?”

“Me?” you echoed, a bit taken aback. “Probably just going home too. Maybe watch a movie, eat some leftovers. Nothing exciting.”

He frowned, his gaze flicking to you. “That’s dumb.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I mean—” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s Christmas Eve. You shouldn’t spend it alone.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his sudden concern. “Are you saying I should find a party or something?”

“No, idiot,” he muttered, looking away, his cheeks faintly pink. “I’m saying… maybe you should spend it with me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. “Are you asking me to hang out?”

“Call it whatever you want,” he grumbled, avoiding your gaze. “Just don’t make it weird.”

A grin spread across your face as you stood up, brushing the snow off your coat. “Alright, Dynamight. Where to?”

“Back to my place,” he said, finally looking at you. “I’ve got food, movies… and more of that hot chocolate crap if you want it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Sounds like a plan.”

As the two of you walked side by side through the snowy streets, the city lights reflecting in your eyes, you realized this was probably the best Christmas Eve you’d had in years. And judging by the small, almost shy smile on Bakugou’s face, he felt the same way.

Maybe Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.

[ohsweetmiko]

daisuke headcannons

daisuke [mouthwashing] headcannons!

happy holidays everyone! hope this brings you some joy during this holiday season. remember you are loved, and that people look forward to you. <3

warnings: implied fem! reader contains sfw, as well as nsfw. please read with caution!

loves and reblogs appreciated ❤️

SFW

· even if you guys are only just friends, he is always the first one to say good morning to you.

· wants to be the first one to put a smile on your face, especially on your bad days.

· hates sharing food, will swat away any hand that even comes close to him. however, only for you he will let his guard down.

· is obsessed with matching jewelry, especially necklaces, earrings and rings. letting you switch out his earrings is a must.

· loves being the little spoon. he just wants to ramble about his day as you hold him close to your chest. it’s always the best part of his day, aside from seeing you!

· pet names would include: love, baby, ma, sweetie, sweetheart, sugar, sweetener, mommy

· is obsessed with your scent. would openly just take a whiff, which would make you giggle. whatever shampoo you use—he needs to know. he’d randomly ask you during a cuddle session “how do you smell so good?”

· is an absolute gentleman. we all know this. will always hold the door for you and pull out your chair with a smile.

· loves watching you as you do something your passionate about. he loves to see you happy and smiling.

· he never really gives effort into his looks, but when you guys go out—thrown out the window. he’s panicking like crazy hoping he’s not underdressed.

· lives for when you play with his hair, especially while cuddling. he loves how relaxing it is for both you and him, as you trail your hand through his brown locs. loves when you pull it too

NSFW

· like i said, is obsessed with your scent. it turns him on so bad—even when you don’t even mean to. you guys could just be cuddling and suddenly he gets all hot and bothered muttering “..you smell nice.”

· mommy kink definitely. should’ve been expected as he has some bad mommy issues. one day you guys were fucking and it must’ve just slipped out. he was so relieved when you said it was fine and that it actually turned you on—is now his #1 pet name when making love.

· poor baby, please praise him. he loves hearing that he’s pleasuring you and that it feels good. it makes him so happy when you whisper how well he’s doing and how proud of him you are.

· hear me out—switch, but leaning bottom, a lot. i feel he’d be the best soft dom if you just need to relax and want him to take control that day. however most of the time your topping from the bottom, haha.

· very vocal in bed. he’s loud in and out of bed! huge, and i mean huge whiner. loves to whimper, as well as to be muffled by you. loves to be muffled by your pussy and chest.

· i think all mouthwashing writers agree he’s the aftercare king. like he’ll prepare a warm, soothing bath for you both and give you a nice massage after. of course it ends with a relaxing cuddle session, as well !

· loves your chest. sucking, squeezing, licking, anything as long as he’s touching your chest. loves putting hickies, definitely some of the deepest ones here.

· loves marking you. it messes him up so bad. he just loves showing everyone he’s yours and you’re his. also wants you to look in the mirror and remember he loves you. loves when you exchange the favor as well,

· makes him so flustered when anyone points out ones he thought he hid, or ones on his partner and they put the pieces together and find out what happened last night. (especially if you guys keeps your relationship low profile.)

· overall, this man is a walking green flag. i literally love him so much he’s my baby 🥹❤️

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for Taz; “Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!” (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Oh,” Lynn says with a really weird expression. Billy’s not sure what it means, but then Lynn just puts his plate down on the coffee table and picks Tawky up mid-bite and sort-of-hugs, sort-of-chokeholds him in his lap. Tawky has really good manners so he manages not to actually choke on his salmon or anything, and since he’s Tawky obviously he’s gonna understand why Lynn wants a hug right now, so Billy figures it’s okay not to tell Lynn maybe he shouldn’t hug people while they’re chewing. Like, if it comes up again, yeah, but otherwise it’s not like it’s a big deal. 

Though he does sneak a little bit of his own salmon onto Tawky’s plate in thanks, because he really does appreciate it. There’s some more in the kitchen anyway. Which is a–weird thought, kinda, but yeah. 

This is just gonna be way easier with Tawky here, if Lynn at least feels okay hugging him when he’s having, like . . . big feelings and things like that. And also, like, to watch him and protect him and keep him company and stuff when Billy’s got missions, obviously. 

But right now, mostly it’s the hugging thing. 

“Thanks,” Lynn says stiffly to Tawky’s tail. “I–thanks. Dad."

He keeps saying “Dad” kind of stiltedly, like he doesn’t really know how to fit it into a sentence, but . . . well. Billy figures that makes sense, really. 

“You don’t have to thank somebody for that kinda thing, Lynn,” he says, maybe a little quieter than he usually would. His gut feels kind of–twisted, is all. Just feels . . . something complicated, maybe. “But, um–yeah. I’m glad I can, you know . . . do it. For you. Um.” 

“. . . thanks,” Lynn mumbles again, ducking his head and half-hiding his face against Tawky’s ears. “Dad."

Big feelings, yeah, Billy figures. It’s already hard enough to figure out how to say that kind of stuff without being brand-new.

[kingofbodyrolls]

Bangtan Christmas ‘24 | Masterlist

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays! ❄️🎄

As the twinkling lights of the season surround us, I hope you’ve found some warmth and joy in the fics shared over these past 24 days. Whether you’ve devoured them all or haven’t had the chance to dive in yet, don’t worry—I’ve saved the best for last. This special rec list is my gift to you, filled with winter and Christmas-themed stories that bring me endless joy every year 🥰 It contains the fics I’ve reblogged all throughout December, BUT—also many stories that I sadly didn’t have the time to read, but was on my Christmas to read list. Sometimes life just hits you… and I really wanted to include them to make the most spectacular rec list ✨

I know some of these gems have made appearances on my blog before, but their brilliance never fades—like the soft glow of a winter snowfall, they’re just as magical every time. These stories are so breathtaking, I could shout about them until my voice becomes a whisper in the frosty air. So, please, from the bottom of my heart, take a moment to show these incredible authors some love 🎁 They’ve poured their time and creativity into crafting these beautiful tales for us, and it’s truly a gift we’re lucky to receive.

A kind comment, a heartfelt message, even a simple like or reblog—it all makes a difference. You never know how much warmth a few words can bring to a writer’s heart, especially during the cold days of winter. And even if some of them are on hiatus and don’t respond, know that your appreciation is felt.

Before we dive into this treasure trove of stories, I want to take a moment to say an enormous thank you to all the writers out there. Your words weave wonders, creating characters and worlds that have made me smile, cry, and above all, feel deeply. If your story is on this list, know that I’ve read it more times than I can count—it’s that extraordinary. So, thank you for crafting such brilliant art with your writing. You are a gift to this community, and we’re all better for it 💜

Now, let’s cozy up and explore these winter wonders together ❄️✨

Because these rec lists are so long, I’ve decided to separate them into each member (I really hope you don’t mind!).

Namjoon

Seokjin

Yoongi

Hoseok

Jimin

Taehyung

Jungkook

Please show all of the guys’ list some love, okay? 🥹

I truly hope you find joy in diving into all these wonderful stories! 🥰 Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to explore this rec list. I couldn’t resist creating another one—I’ve missed it dearly. I know some of you enjoyed the monthly rec lists, so I hope this little collection brings a spark of joy to your holiday season.

If this list has brought a smile to your face, I kindly ask that you consider reblogging it. The more it’s shared, the more people can discover these incredible stories, and together, we can spread even more holiday cheer to the talented writers who make this season a little more magical with their words ❄️✨

Hello, lovely people! I’m Lissa, both a reader and a writer at heart. Though I don’t write much fanfiction these days, my love for reading and recommending fics burns as bright as ever. If you’re looking for more Bangtan fanfics to cozy up with, you’re more than welcome to follow me, or simply explore my rec library. There’s always something special waiting for you.

With all my love, and borahae always 💜

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

You’re insecure (don’t know what for.)

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

*Credit to the owner of the gif.*

A/N: Here’s a little Christmas gift for you all!! 🎄🎁 I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :) (p.s I didn’t really proofread this as much because I was getting self conscious and yeah. Happy reading!)

Word count: 1,698.

Masterlist

It was a Friday night and you were lounging in your apartment feeling like the absolute scum of the earth over bouts of insecurity arising in you over some comments made about you throughout the past few weeks.

Comments about how Wanda was too good for you.

How she was way out of your league and how people were clueless as to why she was with you. How a stunning woman like her, could be with someone as simple looking as you.

Thoughts that you yourself have had with your girlfriend basically being a walking goddess and all, how could you not let your mind stray to think those things when you've seen firsthand more attractive people vying for her attention.

So there you were feeling like utter shit while playing video games, when a call from an unknown number came into your phone.

"Hello?" You answer cautiously.

"Y/N?" You hear exclaimed through the phone, having a hard time hearing due to the music blasting from the other side of the call.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me, who is this?" You ask not immediately recognizing the voice.

"Hey, it's me, Nat," the voice supplies, "my phone died so I'm using someone else's. Anyway, so you know how we went out to the bar to grab a few drinks? Well, as we were making our way back to your place, your girlfriend found a club and made her way inside. She's on the dance floor crying, she won't let me take her home, she wants you," Natasha yells through the speaker causing you to immediately stand up and begin looking for your keys.

"Is she okay?" You ask worriedly, your movements halting momentarily.

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine, just super drunk," Natasha says, her voice muffled by the sounds around her. "Hey, no Wanda, get off of there, you can't do that!" You suddenly hear Natasha say and you hurry your movements once again, "listen, we're at the Avengers Night Club in uptown, it’s not too far from your place so there's no rush, but the faster you're here, the better. So please, don't take too long," the redhead pleads and you nod, realizing after a moment she can't see you.

"Uh, yeah, don't worry. I'll be there as soon as I can, thank you Nat," you say appreciatively.

"No worries, see you soon," she replies breathless, "Wanda, oh my god, no you can't eat that, that's a candle-" you hear suddenly and the call disconnects.

When you locate your keys you hastily make your way out of your apartment and into your car. The 10 minute drive to the club feeling eternal.

When you finally reach your destination you park your car and make your way inside the club, immediately finding Natasha.

"Nat!" You exclaim over the music.

"Hey!" The redhead turns to greet you pulling you into a hug.

"Where is she?" You ask Wanda's best friend when you pull back.

The shorter woman frowns, "wait, what the fuck, she was just here a minute ago!" She yells over the music, eyes scanning the club and immediately landing on your girlfriend that is taking shots with a group of people across the bar from where you stand, "there she is!" Natasha says, finger pointing in Wanda's direction.

Once you spot her you nod and with Natasha make your way towards your girlfriend, trying your best not to bump into people in the process. As soon as you reach Wanda, you immediately realize she is much drunker than you have ever seen her be in the two years that you've been together.

"Hey Wanda, Y/N is here, let's get you home," Natasha says as she gathers your girlfriend into her arms.

"That's not gonna work Natty, I know she's not here, you've been saying that all night you little liar," Wanda singsongs, bopping Natasha's nose, causing the redhead to roll her eyes in annoyed amusement.

"I'm serious Wands, she's right there," Natasha says as she turns the redhead to face you.

"Oh, my god! Baby!" Wanda exclaims excitedly, hands thrown up in the air, a drunken smile on her lips.

"Hey Max," you greet with an amused chuckle.

"New friends, hey, hey," Wanda says, waving at the other patrons she was drinking with, "this is my amazingly beautiful girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N," she beams, pulling you in by your waist to introduce you to the group of strangers.

"Hey!" The group exclaimed loudly.

"Hey," you say softly, waving shyly at the sudden attention.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing," you hear Wanda say, turning to face her and you see green eyes glossed over with adoration and love, "my beautiful baby, my stunning lover, I love you so much," she yells, voice full of affection.

"How much have you had to drink, amor?" You ask, blushing red.

"I'm not drunk," Wanda slurs, and you raise a challenging eyebrow, "okay, I am drunk. Drunk in love," she says with a dopey smile.

You shake your head, "okay, you're definitely wasted," you say with a laugh.

"No. No, I'm not baby. You really are my beautiful lover. So so beautiful," she pouts, hands cradling your face as tears gloss over in her green eyes. "I really wish you could see yourself the way I see you my love, because you're so stunning. You think I'm the most beautiful person you've ever seen, but that's bullshit! You are the most beautiful person ever! You're so amazing Y/N, you make me so happy and you're so nice, all my friends love you, you treat me like a queen. You're perfect," Wanda says, tears rolling down her face, "I just- I love you so much," she says as she begins sobbing into her hands.

"Okay amor mio, let's get you going," you say, gathering Wanda into your arms as you begin to make your way out of the nightclub. "Hey Nat you good, do you need a ride or something?" You ask the redhead once you make it outside.

"No, I'm good, I think I might stay a little longer, I definitely just saw someone check me out and I want to see where that goes," she smirks and you chuckle, "you just get home safe and call me if you need me alright?" Natasha says as she pulls you and your girlfriend into a hug.

"Yeah sure, thank you," you say appreciatively, "and if you need anything please don't hesitate to call," the redhead nods her head and makes her way back into the club as you walk to your car. After placing Wanda in the passenger side, you buckle her in and make the drive back to your apartment.

Getting Wanda into your home seems to be a much more difficult task than you anticipated, the redhead more asleep than awake to properly walk, the alcohol in her system causing her to slightly sway back and forth as you take her up to the apartment.

Once you make it inside you take Wanda to your room, laying her down softly on the bed as you begin her nightly routine.

First you take off her shoes, placing them in your closet. Then you grab one of your t-shirts for her to sleep in. Taking off her dress being nearly impossible as Wanda softly snores.

Once you complete your mission and dress your girlfriend you make your way to your bathroom to grab some makeup removing wipes. As you sit beside your girlfriend you begin gently cleaning off the make-up Wanda wore, your soft swipes across her face causing the redhead to stir awake.

"Hmm, baby, what are you doing?" Wanda asks, voice thick, full of sleep.

"Just taking your makeup off amor, go back to sleep," you whisper, continuing with your task.

"It's okay, leave it on, just lay with me," your girlfriend pouts, tugging on your arm to pull you into bed beside her and you chuckle softly.

"I will in a bit Max, let me just take this off so you can sleep comfortably," you smile as Wanda's eyes slowly open, unshed tears building in her beautiful green eyes. "Hey. Hey, what's wrong?" You ask slowly, a look of confusion on your face at your girlfriend's sudden change in mood.

"You're so good to me baby. So good," Wanda whispers, tears pouring down her face.

Cupping her face gently you wipe her tears away, "hey, none of that Wands, you're my girl. I love taking care of you and you do the same for me, so it's all good," you say smiling softly.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you, but you're everything to me,” Wanda sobs, voice full of emotion, "and don't think I haven't noticed how in your head you have gotten as of late. I know you, and I know what people have been saying has been affecting you. But just know that I put them in their place and that I love you and only you detka, I don't care what they have to say, you are my person and they can all fuck off if they think you’re no good for me, because they don’t know you the way I do,” she monologues. “They don’t know how truly happy you make me. They don’t know how well you take care of me. They don’t know that just by being with you it makes me want to be a better person. They don’t know anything, my love,” she says and you let out a sob.

“God, I love you so much Max, you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that,” you say, crying.

“You’re it for me detka, before you I wasn’t truly living, it’s like everything was preparing me for this moment, now come on, get in bed, let’s go to sleep,” Wanda says as she takes your hands, pulling you into the space beside her.

As you crawl in behind her, you wrap your arms around her frame, “I love you Wanda,” you whisper, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, my love,” she replies before you both drift off to sleep.

[mydarlingclaudia]

christmas party hop

note : SECRET SANTA FIC FOR @candlekiss !!! MERYY CHRISTMAS THIS IS EXTREMELY RUSHED BUT I WISH YOU THE MERRIEST CHRISTMAS I HOPE YOU GET EVERYTHING YOU WANTED!!!! the quality inst that good because I didn’t write this in like an hour im so so sorry erm

wc : 1.5k

tags : @withonly-sweetheart @leonsecretsanta

desc : roommates and mistletoe don’t mix well. roommates to lovers, fluff (??), no outbreak au, re4r!Leon, fem!reader, not proofread

It feels like you have to force Leon to do anything that involves socializing. He can manage the dishes and laundry by any other chores himself, but when it comes to having people over, he always shuts himself away in his room. You really shouldn’t care, it’s none of your business and not everyone likes having company over, but you can’t help but wish he’d come out for at least an hour or two and have some fun.

He's always been nice to you, civil, at least. He's appreciative of any dinner you cook for him or taking time out of your day to take care of him while he's sick, he does the same for you, if he's able. It's typical roommate behavior, you think. Maybe Leon's just more comfortable around you than others, though it could also be that it's your friends that come over more than his.

But he's never really had any of his friends or coworkers come over. You've met Chris and Jill a few times, same with Claire and Marvin, but you've never come home to see any of the four sitting on the couch talking with Leon. The times that you've met them you seemed to get along, they had mentioned Leon talking about you and that you seem as sweet as he says, so that's a good thing, right?

So you get the idea of throwing a Christmas party for yours and Leon’s friends, no big deal. It's not like it's a huge thing, just a few more people in your apartment than normal, you're doing this for Leon's sake, anyway.

Only Chris and Claire had shown up thirty minutes early to help set up (which they hadn’t really mentioned to you) along with Sherry, Jill brought Carlos and they both brought more than enough booze, Marvin’s arrival was fine, your own friends came in a little loud, but they brought pies so it was ok.

But now you’re jammed in the kitchen with Sherry whose trying to scoop cookie dough onto the cookie sheet, Claire whose pulling turkey out of the oven, Carlos whose coming back into the kitchen for more beer, and yourself who has been trying and failing to make eggnog. People are still running in and out of the kitchen, squeezing behind everyone cooking, yelling over the Christmas music that was playing.

“I put up mistletoe,”Claire nudges you as she walks past, carrying the pot full of stuffing. “Keep an eye out.”

“You decorated?” You turn to face her, licking some of the eggnog off your finger.

“Sherrys idea,”

“Pssh, sure.”

“Honest! Come on,” Claire laughs, “Is there a problem?”

“I’m not kissing you,” Claire rolls her eyes, setting the pot of stuffing down onto the table and starting to scoop it out into a big bowl. Two of your friends squeeze behind you to get first pickings of the food being set out, Chris and Jill follow after.

“You gotta kick Leon off the tv, the only thing he’s watching is that stupid Christmas baking show.” One of your friends giggles trying to get your attention as you help Sherry slide the cookie sheets into the oven.

“Yeah? What do you wanna watch?”

“Well, we were supposed to turn on Home Alone ten minutes ago…” She mumbled, already shoving turkey into her mouth. You flinch away from the heat of the oven and shake your hands as you pull away, standing upright.

”Alright, alright, I’ll talk to him.” You shove by Carlos and Sherry, through the doorway into the living room and walking towards Leon who is still hogging the remote. Leon can hear you walking towards him, he looks to you, his resting face changing into a smile.

“Got no holiday cheer?” You tease, sitting next to him on the couch.

“I’m filled to the brim with it,” He mutters rolling his eyes slightly.

“Oh my God, let’s just watch some Christmas movies. I spent hours in the kitchen for this, y’know.” You lean on his shoulder and pry the remote from his grip, he sighs.

“You’re so lucky I like you,”

“No shit, come on.” You grab his hand and pull him to stand up with you, dragging him towards the doorway and into the kitchen, getting plates for the both of you while the others continue to rush around the two of you.

You’re sure that if you and Leon had a driveway, Leon would find some reason to be outside shoveling, or if you had decorated outside, he’d find another reason to fiddle with the lights. He does come out of his shell a bit and chimes in to talk to Chris and Claire, he jokes with Sherry, pokes at Carlos and plays up being offended.

He’s not paying attention to the movie, but he taps his foot along to the Christmas music that’s still playing, he follows you around, though.

Leon normally does this if the two of you are ever out together, he trails after you, trying to hold k to your sleeve so he doesn’t lose you in a crowd. You know it’s not typical roommate behavior, but you find it cute, plus it’s not hurting anyone, right?

Even when you and Leon get knocked around by everyone else in your small apartment and end up bumping into each other, he holds your gaze and almost reaches out to grab you so you can stay for another moment and ignore the party.

There are kisses under the mistletoe— all between Carlos and Jill, though.

Leon and you do get held under the doorframe for a moment. It’s when Chris is talking to Sherry in the living room while she was trying to make her way into the kitchen and when one of your friends was trying to come into the living room, both you and Leon were standing and chatting.

Leon didn’t kiss you, unfortunately.

Claire didn’t take down her decorations when the party was over, everyone helped pick up the mess they made, but your apartment looked more holly-jolly than it did before the party.

You’ve already brushed your teeth and changed into your pajamas, Leon’s done the same, but he’s been looking up for the past few minutes.

“What’re you looking at?” You question, setting your cup of water down on the counter and stepping closer as he waves you over. You stand beneath the doorframe with him, looking up at the mistletoe hanging from it.

There’s a kiss pressed to your cheek within the next second, you look back to Leon to see the grin on his face.

“Just on the cheek?” You tease, crossing your arms.

“You want it on the lips?”

“Well, that’s the tradition, isn’t it?” You giggle, bringing your hand up and cupping his cheek, he pulls you in at the same time for the kiss you both expected, only he’s a bit more passionate than you.

[cheshireliam]

"Wrapped in Wicked Romance" Story Event: Chapter 1

Ring Schwartz

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Kate: Why did you… kill them…?

Ring: “Why”...? Is it not natural? 

Ring: I’ll kill anyone as long as Dari orders me to.

His face, splattered with blood, showed not even the slightest bit of doubt about the murder he just committed.

It was at that moment when I finally realised it.

He, too— was utterly evil. 

…

One night, I stumbled upon a secret I never should've known, which led to me becoming Fairytale Keeper for a month.

A week after, Vogel, an organisation consisting of Cursed Ones similar to Crown, appeared and seemed to be hiding something. 

…

A few days after my encounter with them, I was called upon by Vogel’s chief— Darius. 

Darius: I’ve heard about it. To deepen your understanding of Crown’s members, you became their lover for a day.

Darius: We want you to do the same thing with us. The kind Miss Fairytale Keeper will surely agree to it, right? 

Unable to make the decision on my own, I quickly went to discuss it with Victor. 

…

Victor: Lovers for a day with Vogel? 

Kate: Yes. They also mentioned that they want me to show them around the city at the same time. 

Victor: I see… I don't have a problem with that arrangement. I happen to also have been thinking about giving them a tour of the city. 

Victor: What are your thoughts, Kate?

Kate: I… I can't stop thinking about what Harrison said to me that day. 

Victor: That Vogel is lying, is it?

Victor: I understand your concern, but we still can’t say for certain whether their lies are harmful to Crown. 

Victor: I doubt that they would be so reckless as to harm you in this situation. Therefore… 

Victor: The most important factor we should consider is what you want to do.

…

(What I want to do…?) 

(Victor did say he'd turn them down if I don't feel comfortable, but…)

(Since I’m going to have interactions with Vogel as a Fairytale Keeper, I’m personally curious about what kind of people the three of them are.) 

(So in order to find out… I’ll accept this request.)

(But before that…)

Kate: Excuse me, who is that tailing me? 

Ever since I left Victor’s office, I’ve had the gut feeling that someone was following behind me. 

When I voiced it out, a man emerged from the shadows.

Kate: Ring…? 

I called his name, although I still wasn't used to doing that because he only said very recently that I could address him as such without the use of salutations. 

Ring: Y-you misunderstood. I didn't mean to tail you today.

Ring: There’s something I want to ask you about… I just couldn't figure out when to approach you.

Kate: … Something you want to ask?

Ring: I wanted to ask who you’re choosing to be your lover for a day. 

Kate: Umm… and what do you intend to do with that information? 

Ring: Depending on whether you choose Nica or Dari, I’ll need to change my route and method for being their escort for security purposes. 

Ring: With the close, intimate distance of being “lovers”... who knows what tricks you’ll pull on the two of them. 

It appeared that Ring was wary of me and planned to protect them regardless of who I chose.

(Hm? But in that case…) 

Kate: What happens to the whole escort planning thing if I choose you to be my “lover”?

Ring: ME!? 

Ring: I- I don’t understand… Normally, either Nica or Dari would be chosen for this sort of thing. You don't need to consider such a possibility. 

Kate: But Darius said to choose “one member from Vogel”. 

Kate: So choosing you isn't a problem, right?

Ring: I-it’s a HUGE problem…! M-me as your l-lo-lov-lover…!? 

… Initially, I asked the question because I was genuinely curious how he intended to go about the escorting. 

But seeing Ring turning bright red and panicking sparked a mischievous impulse in me.

Kate: I’ve decided! I’m choosing you as my lover for a day.

Ring: WHAT!? You absolutely CANNOT do that! 

Darius: Really? I think that's a wonderful idea, though. 

The voice cutting into our exchange was Darius, who happened to be passing by.

Ring: D-Dari… why?

Darius: Somehow, it sounds like it’d be interesting. 

Ring: But what if she “cajoles¹” me into doing her bidding…!? 

¹ The word for “cajole” is 篭絡 (ろうらくrōraku). Here, when Ring’s says it, it was written in hiragana as “ろーらく” to express that his pronunciation of the word wasn't very accurate; possibly because his first language is german and not english. 

Darius: You know such a complex phrase as “cajole”? Good job, good job. 

Darius: But don’t worry. Miss Fairytale Keeper could never be a threat to us.

Darius: Have I ever been wrong about such things? 

Ring: … Never.

Darius: Then there's no problem at all. 

Darius: Go on, Ring. Pass auf dich auf (have a great day²). 

² For the record, I don't understand German at all. I’m only translating based on the Japanese translation provided by the game in the form of furigana.

As soon as Darius said something to him in their native language, Ring became obedient like a well-trained guard dog. 

Ring: … Alles klar (understood). 

…

The next day, I became Ring’s lover for a day and was tasked to give him a tour of the city.

Kate: I look forward to spending the day with you. 

Ring: … Oh, uh, yeah. Dari ordered me to “pretend to be Miss Fairytale Keeper’s lover for a day”. 

Ring: Going on a… d… da… date… with you… I- I’ll do it just fine. Just you watch…! 

(Ring looks extremely nervous…)

I was a little nervous myself, but seeing how tense he was actually made me feel better. 

Ring: S-so… the first destination is The Scala, right?

Kate: Yes. Since it’s a date, I decided to take you to some of my favourite places today. 

Kate: We could take a carriage there, but the weather is pleasant today. Shall we walk instead?

Ring: … Got it. Also, um… 

Ring looked like there was something he wanted to say as he stretched his right arm out in my direction. 

Kate: …?

Ring: Ah! No… nothing. T-this is just me warming up! 

He pulled his arm back and started rolling his shoulders in circles.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 44

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,025ish

Summary: The hotel room gets attacked. Logan decides that just saying something is no longer enough.

Warning(s): canon violence, injuries, illusions to sex

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

You made sure that Laura and Charles were busy with the movie before you slipped back into the bathroom. Studying the area, you finally noticed the many empty bottles of alcohol. Walking around, you noticed a hand towel that had been tossed in the corner. You lifted it up and gasped at the sight of blood. Your knees gave out beneath you as it hit you. You didn’t have much longer with Logan. You were going to lose him for good and you were no where near prepared for it. 

You failed to realize that the door opened behind you as your sobs took over. Laura quietly came in and knelt beside you. Her hand reached out to your hands, which were now in flames and burning the towel. 

“Laura,” you gasped, noticing the girl. She pointed to the flames. “Oh!” You killed the flames. You looked over at Laura. “I’m sorry you—uff!” 

Laura launched herself at you, hugging you tightly. You dropped the burnt towel and hugged her back. You felt terrible that this little traumatized girl was comforting you. You should be the one comforting her.

“I’m okay,” you told her. “I’m okay.”

There was no doubt that Laura was Logan’s child. Especially when she was constantly worried or connected to you. Somehow she got Logan’s attachment to you.

You pulled away from the girl, who was still looking at you with great concern. “Why don’t we see if there’s a game to play or another movie to watch?”

Laura nodded so you took her hand and the two of you headed back to Charles.

~~~

Logan had been gone for about an hour at this point. The three of you had moved into the living room area, where Charles was looking at all the people on the streets. Laura was flipping through her X-Men comics.

“It’s time for your medication, Charles,” you said. “I’ll grab some water and then you need to take them.”

“Fine,” he waved you off, still focusing down below.

You went into the bathroom and grabbed one of the cups. You didn’t even get to fill it up before you heard the door kicked open. Running out of the bathroom, you shot fire at the first gun man. He stumbled back into the hall way in flames. Four more men rushed into the room. Two of the guns went off and before you knew it, a bullet was in Laura’s leg, causing her to fall to the floor, and a bullet was in your shoulder. You cried out in pain as you stumbled forward, one of your hands gripping your shoulder. Laura roared in frustration as two more men entered.

“Laura!” You exclaimed as you saw one of the men pull out large cuffs.

There was nothing else you could do as Charles cried out and began seizing. His head fell back as the high-pitched noise went out in waves. A silent scream sat in your mouth as you fell to your knees. The men around the hotel room froze as the psychic attack worsened. Your eyes squeezed shut as your body fully gave out on the floor. Blood began to trickle from your nose and ears as the wound in your shoulder continued to bleed. Your breath became to come out in gasps as you felt the air thin around you. This had been the longest time you had stayed conscious during one of Charles’ seizures, and you were silently praying for it to end.

Despite the disorientation, you could hear the familiar sound of metal claws and grunting coming up from the hallway. Laura’s grunts could also be heard and the small movement of medical supplies. 

Logan plunged his claws into the first guy after he came to the open door and saw their guns pointed at you, Laura, and Charles. He saw you unmoving on the ground and bleeding, making him want to throw up. Laura was grunting and groaning on the ground as she tried to crawl to Charles with the syringe that could stop the seizure. Logan stabbed two more men before he tumbled into the table, trying to push through the immeasurable pain. 

Clenching his jaw, Logan pushed forward, stabbing into the remaining men before kneeling behind Charles. His shaking arm reached back to Laura, who was trying to hand him the syringe. Logan took it and plunged it into Charles neck, immediately stopping the seizure.

The psychic hold Charles had on everything disappeared, causing everyone to collapse. The men were all dead, but that didn’t stop Logan’s fear for your life. Logan turned to see Laura crawling over to you. You were now unconscious and still bleeding. Laura checked your pulse at your neck before she tore out the bullet. She glanced back at Logan, who gave her a thankful nod. Everyone was panting, trying to catch their breath as the stayed in their spots for a moment. Logan looked down and noticed a camera on one of the dead men. He grabbed it.

“Shit!” He exclaimed. He pushed himself up and over to the window.

“Is everyone alright?” Charles asked, glancing around. His eyes fell on you and your state, with Laura sitting protectively beside you. “No… I’m so sorry.”

“We gotta get out of here,” Logan stated. “Laura, grab your things and the wheelchair. I’ve got the meds and Y/N.”

Laura moved quickly as she went to gather her things. Logan went over and stuffed the medication in a bag, before his focus fell on you. His trembling hand went over to your shoulder, thankful that the wound was already healing. He needed to clean you up, but there was no time for that. Laura took Charles’ wheelchair as Logan threw the bag over to Laura and then scooped you up in his arms.

Logan held you close and kept near Laura and Charles as they took the elevator to the main floor and saw the damage that was done. People were unconscious and injured everywhere.

“I’m sorry,” Charles cried. “I’m so sorry.”

Logan led the way to the new truck he took. Laura opened the front passenger door, allowing Logan to get you in the seat and buckled before he helped Charles in and put away his wheelchair in the trunk. Sirens were coming closer, making every movement an urgent one. Logan hurried to the driver’s seat and sped away, just in time.

One of Logan’s hand held tight to the wheel as the other one reached over the consul to have some physical contact with you. He needed to feel you, that you were still there. It gave him some hope. Though, that hope began to dwindle as they stopped twice for gas and it was now nightfall with no sign of you waking.

“We should stop, Logan,” Charles said. “Get some rest and… and figure out what’s going on.”

Logan used the rearview mirror to look back at Charles and Laura. It was clear that Charles was being eaten up by guilt while Laura couldn’t stop looking at you. She was concerned and scared. Logan understood.

“Fine,” Logan huffed. “A cheap place. Only for a few hours.”

Almost two hours later, Logan found a motel off the side of the road. They didn’t ask for a name and he was able to get two joining rooms, with a total of three beds between the two. Logan was grateful that the rooms were on the first floor, allowing him to get Charles out so that Laura could push him and he could carry you. He unlocked one of the rooms, thankful it was the king bed room. He carefully laid you down before he went and opened the other room and made it joining. 

“You two are in the other room,” Logan grumbled, coming back to sit at your side.

“I’m sorry, Logan,” Charles said quietly. “She was getting my meds when they entered.”

“I’ll be in there to put you to bed in a minute. I just need some time alone.”

Charles sighed. “Come, Laura.” He reached out for the girl’s hand, gently taking it. “Let’s give them some space.” 

Charles and Laura headed into the other room. Laura didn’t shut the door all the way, leaving it open enough for her to watch the two of you. Logan’s eyes lined with tears as he carefully took your shirt off of you, leaving you in a bra. His eyes fell to the two newest scars, a reminder of how he couldn’t protect you. There was still dried blood on your face and torso. 

With a cough, Logan pushed himself from his seat on the bed and limped over to the bathroom. He grabbed a hand towel and got it damp before returning to your side. As carefully as his shaky hands would allow, Logan wiped the blood from your skin. Your steady heartbeat and breathing was the only things keeping Logan from having a serious breakdown.

After you were cleaned up, Logan tossed the towel away and pulled off his jacket and flannel. Gently, Logan dressed you in the flannel and buttoned you up. His fingers trailed down your cheeks.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “Wake up… I… I need you.” You made no move to wake. “Sweetheart, please.” He held a kiss to your forehead, like he could wake you up with just the tender act. “I can’t continue on without you.” 

He sighed when you didn’t respond. Turning away to go take care of Charles, your hand reached out and gripped onto his wrist. Logan whipped around to see you, eyes half open, staring at him.

“Thank fuck,” he muttered, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “You need to stop scaring me like that.”

“Yeah, well…” you groaned, moving to sit up, “you need to stop lying to me.”

“What? I—“

“I found the towel, Logan. The bloody towel you coughed into… why did you hide it from me?”

“I don’t want to worry you anymore than I already am.”

“Well you’re doing a terrible job.” Logan chuckled, his hands coming up to gently hold your face. “We’re running out of time, Logan.”

Logan hated how you were right. “I can run faster.”

“You used to be able to, honey. But your body isn’t the same anymore.”

He leaned his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to leave you.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as your hands came up to hold onto his wrists. “I don’t want you to leave either.”

“We finish this and then we’ll go off… We make the most of the time we have left.” He brushed his lips over yours but didn’t move to fully kiss you yet. “I will fight to stay with you.”

You made the move to fully kiss him. Your hands moved from his wrists to Logan’s back, tugging him toward you. Logan’s hands stayed on your face, keeping you engaged in the kiss. Despite his desire to continue, Logan pulled away and turned his head to the side, breaking into a coughing fit. You sat up more, placing your hand on his back.

“I’m here,” you whispered. “I’m right here.”

When his coughing died down, your head fell to his shoulder and his head gently rested on top of yours. Logan and you sat in silence as his breathing when back to normal.

“I should go grab you food,” Logan whispered.

“No,” you wrapped your arms around him. “Don’t leave… not again… Just hold me tonight, please… don’t let me go.”

Logan’s arms wrapped around you before he pulled you into his lap. “I’ve got to go take care of Charles, but I will be right back.”

“How are Charles and Laura?”

“They’re fine. Just worried about you.” He kissed your head. “Stay here and rust. I’ll be back.”

Logan slipped you back onto the bed and opened up the adjoining door. Laura stumbled back, causing you to giggle. She had clearly been watching the whole interaction.

“Kid—“

But before Logan could scold her, Laura was running past him and crushing you in a hug.

“Hey!” Logan yelled. “Careful, kid!”

“She’s fine, Logan,” you waved him off as you hugged Laura back. 

“It’s good to see you awake, Y/N,” Charles said from the doorway. 

You shot him a smile. Logan sighed as he and Charles headed further into the other room. Your fingers began combing through Laura’s hair as she continued to hold you tightly.

“I know it was you that got the bullet out,” you quietly said. “Thank you.” 

Laura nodded against you. Logan tucked Charles in and then stopped in the doorway, watching you comfort Laura. Even though Logan was struggling with Laura, he was grateful that you were able to be there for the child.

“Okay, kid,” Logan said, stepping into the room, “time for bed.”

Surprisingly, Laura let you go. She studied you over before slipping out of bed and heading to the adjoining room. Before she closed the door, Laura looked back.

“Goodnight, Laura,” you smiled.

Laura nodded before closing the door fully. Logan toed his shoes off before pulling down his plants and pulling off his shirts. He crawled down the bed and pulled you into him. You cuddled into him and took a deep breath through your nose. Though Logan hadn’t had a cigar in a few days, the smell still lingered on him. It was purely Logan. Your heart cracked at the thought of how much you’d miss that smell. 

“I want to get married,” Logan quietly admitted.

You moved so that you could see his face. “What? But we—“

“I want it real. Tomorrow. We find one of those stupid chapels or a judge and we get married. You are my wife, Y/N, and I am your husband. Let’s make it real… before it’s too late.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “Yes… please.”

Logan kissed your lips so tenderly you thought you were going to melt. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

~~~

Logan was incredibly grateful to find that there was a small wedding chapel around the corner from the motel. Laura and Charles sat in the pews as you and Logan stood in the front, holding hands.

“We are gathered together to witness the marriage of James Logan Howlett and Y/N L/N,” the minister began. “Marriage is a commitment in life, where two people can find and bring out the very best in each other. It offers opportunities for sharing and growth that no other human relationship can equal, a physical and emotional joining that has the promise of a lifetime. James and Y/N, do you present yourselves willingly and of your own accord to be joined in marriage?”

“We do,” you both said, keeping your eyes locked on each other.

“Will you promise to care for each other in the joys and sorrows of life, come what may, and to share the responsibility for growth and enrichment of your life together?”

“We will.”

“James, please repeat after me. I, James, take you Y/N to be my lawful wedded wife.”

Logan swallowed as tears pricked at his eyes. “I, James, take you Y/N to be my lawful wedded wife.”

“I promise to stay by your side, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.”

“I promise to stay by your side, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.”

“I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”

“I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as—“ Logan’s voice cracked at the weight of the words. “For as long as we both shall live.”

“Y/N, please repeat after me. I, Y/N, take you James to be my lawful wedded husband.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks. “I, Y/N, take you James to be my lawful wedded husband.”

“I promise to stay by your side, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.”

“I promise to stay by your side, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.”

“I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”

“I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as,” Logan’s hands gave yours a squeeze, “long as we both shall live.”

“Will we be exchanging rings?”

“No,” Logan shook his head as he responded. 

“Well, by the authority vested in me by the continuation and the laws of this state, it is my honor to now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Logan tugged you into him. His hands let go of yours before one of his arms wrapped around your waist and his hand cradled your head. He dipped you as his lips firmly pressed against yours. Charles laughed as Laura and him clapped. When Logan continued the kiss, Laura cringed, causing Charles to laugh again.

“They’re in love, my dear,” he told her softly. “They have been through enough trauma for multiple lifetimes. They deserve this moment. And we will let them have it, for as long as we can.”

next chapter >

[satsugacafe]

𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐒/𝐎

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: Grimmjow, Starrk, Ulquiorra

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Hello! Can I have a request? How would Starkk, Grimmjow, and Ulquiorra adjust to a human world with human s/o?

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: I had too much fun with this piece lol. Enjoy!

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: How they adjust to living in the human world with you.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Coyote Starrk

↬ Starrk found the human world baffling, mainly because of how noisy everything seemed compared to Hueco Mundo. Car alarms, the hum of electricity, and people chatting endlessly in cafes had him constantly muttering, “Do humans ever shut up? Where is the off switch?”

↬ He had a lazy charm that worked in his favour. He would somehow manage to get free samples from the bakery down the road just by looking mildly interested. “You know, this human world isn’t so bad when they hand out food for no reason.”

↬ Teaching him to use modern appliances was a trial. He once accidentally turned the vacuum cleaner on full blast and almost blasted himself through the wall. “This thing’s alive, isn’t it?”

↬ He was a natural with animals, though. Dogs adored him, and he could walk into a park and have a pack of strays following him within minutes. You joked he was assembling a canine fracciones.

↬ He had an odd fascination with pigeons. He’d sit on park benches for hours, watching them mill about, occasionally throwing them crumbs. “They’re like tiny, less annoying Lilynettes. I like them.”

Cooking became a mild obsession for him once he realised how much variety the human world offered. You caught him watching cooking tutorials on your phone. “Why do they all say, ‘easy recipe’ when this involves twenty steps and an oven I barely understand?”

↬ He was incredibly protective in the human world, though it didn’t show in dramatic ways. He’d keep you on the safe side of the pavement, steer you away from crowded areas, and shoot deadly glares at anyone who even glanced at you wrong. “Humans don’t know their place sometimes. Annoying, really.”

↬ He once tried going grocery shopping alone and came back with entirely the wrong things. You asked for bread and milk; he brought back jam and six bags of crisps.

↬ You introduced him to Netflix, and he became addicted to crime dramas. He liked to critique the criminals’ plans. You also caught him talking to your cat one afternoon, a very serious conversation about naps. “Listen, furball, if you don’t appreciate a good nap, what’s the point of life?”

↬ He was baffled by your human obsession with coffee. One morning, after trying it for the first time, he leaned back, his eyes narrowing at you. “So you willingly drink this dirt water every day?”

↬ Every time you mentioned going to work, he’d dramatically throw himself across the doorframe. “No. Stay. Your world’s already loud enough—don’t leave me to suffer alone.”

↬ Sleeping in the human world was oddly peaceful for him. He would stretch out on your sofa, claim half the bed without meaning to, and casually drape an arm over you. Just don’t let him sleep on a water bed. Worst sleep of his life.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez

↬ The feral kitty cat was convinced humans were weaklings until you took him to a gym. He ended up challenging some poor bloke to a weightlifting contest, won, and then complained it wasn’t a fair fight. Eventually, exercising was his idea of fun. He got addicted to the gym, showing off during pull-ups or weightlifting. “You watching? Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

↬ Adjusting to technology was a nightmare. He refused to admit he didn’t know how to use a phone and kept swiping at the screen like he was challenging it to a fight. “Why doesn’t it do what I tell it to? Stupid thing.”

↬ He got into trouble almost daily. One time, he scared a street performer by growling when they asked for a tip. You had to stop him from picking fights with random joggers. “What? They were staring too long. Looked like they wanted a challenge.”

↬ You tried teaching him how to cook, but he turned it into a battle. “Fire’s too weak. How do you even boil water in this thing?” He ended up burning toast and proudly declaring it a success.

↬ He was surprisingly good with kids, though he’d never admit it. Once, a group of kids challenged him to a game of football in the park, and he got way too into it. You had to stop him from trash-talking a ten-year-old. “What? They need to toughen up!”

↬ Animals adored him, which annoyed him to no end. Dogs would trot up to him on walks, wagging their tails. “What’s your deal? Go away!” But you caught him sneaking them pats when he thought you weren’t looking.

↬ Grimmjow got jealous easily in the human world. If anyone flirted with you, he’d casually stand behind you with his arms crossed, glaring like an angry kitty ready to pounce. “They can look somewhere else unless they want trouble.”

↬ You introduced him to video games, and he was instantly hooked. He preferred fighting games and made it his mission to beat you every time. “Don’t hold back, or I’ll make you regret it.” When he finally lost, he pouted for hours.

↬ He mocked human horror films relentlessly. “This is supposed to scare you? I’ve seen Hollows scarier than that guy with the knife.”

↬ He hated wearing human clothes at first and complained endlessly about jeans (like those skinny jeans Urahara gave him lol). “These things are like a prison for my legs!” Eventually, he settled for hoodies and track pants, which he grudgingly admitted were “not bad.”

↬ Going out to eat was chaos with him. He’d order the spiciest thing on the menu just to prove he could handle it, then spend the rest of the meal pretending his face wasn’t red. “I’m fine. This? This isn’t hot at all.”

↬ He did love human food but refused to admit it. “What’s this crap? Tastes alright, I guess.” Yet you caught him hoarding spicy crisps and chugging fizzy drinks like they were going out of style.

Ulquiorra Cifer

↬ The fourth Espada treated the human world like a scientific experiment, observing everything with quiet fascination. You once caught him staring at a vending machine for ten minutes before he asked, “How does it decide what to give you?”

↬ He doesn’t understand the need for human social practices, like small talk. When someone greeted him with, “How are you?” he replied, “That is irrelevant,” and walked away, leaving you to apologise.

↬ He had an unexpected knack for blending in. His quiet demeanour and neutral expression made him oddly suited to working in your local library. The librarian adored him for his efficiency, though he refused to smile at patrons. “They do not need my emotions to find a book.”

↬ He doesn’t understand sarcasm at all. When you joked about him being a terrible flatmate, he replied, entirely serious, “Then perhaps I should leave.” And then proceeded to depart.

↬ Was very baffled by human food. You once handed him a chocolate bar, and he stared at it like it was a piece of alien technology before taking a cautious bite. “This…is acceptable.” But no spicy food, please.

↬ He was deeply confused by human emotions. Once, you cried watching a sad film, and he frowned. “Why are you leaking from your eyes over something fictional?”

↬ He adapted to human clothes surprisingly well, favouring monochrome outfits that matched his Espada uniform. You teased him about looking like a model, and he replied, “If that is how humans perceive me, it is irrelevant.”

↬ Ulquiorra had a habit of silently appearing behind you, scaring you half to death. When you yelled at him, he tilted his head and said, “If your reaction is fear, then perhaps your spiritual awareness is lacking.”

↬ He found rain fascinating. One evening, you found him standing on the balcony, staring at the sky as water drenched him.

↬ Despite his stoic nature, he had a protective streak. Once, a stranger got too close to you, and Ulquiorra stepped in, his gaze cold. “You are intruding. Leave.” The stranger bolted without another word.

↬ He often left you cryptic compliments. When you asked if he liked spending time with you, he’d say, “Your presence is…not unpleasant. That is sufficient, is it not?”

↬ He found the human world illogical but not without value. One night, as you both watched the stars from your balcony, he quietly admitted, “You humans…are fragile, yet endure. It is strange.”

©satsugacafé 2024: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

[five-and-dimes]

🥶🥶 for the ask thing :)

The end of this snippet is definitely something I've shared before, but because of you I finally wrote the part that connects it to the last scene! Progress! 🙌

“I would not want to intrude…” he says slowly. Hob waves him off, “Nonsense, it looks like the end of days out there, what kind of mate would I be if I let you out in that? You’d probably blow away.” Dream huffed, a little offended, but he couldn’t deny Hob had a point, “Well… thank you,” he muttered awkwardly. “No problem!” Hob began stacking their books and putting their notes into orderly piles. Dream assisted, putting his own supplies back into his backpack and handing Hob the highlighters that were just out of his reach. “I can loan you some sweats. And I know the bed is small, but I got one of those mattress toppers so it’s super comfy at least-” “Wait-” Dream interrupted, blinking in confusion, “I will simply sleep on the floor. I do not mind.” Hob shrugged, “I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” For a moment, Dream opened and closed his mouth, no words coming out. Finally, he explains softly, “I do not wish to disturb your rest. I have been told I am. Unpleasant to share a bed with.” Hob looks up from where he was rifling through his dresser, appalled, “Someone said that to you?” “Many have.” Many have said much worse. Few people bother softening their words to Dream. On one memorable occasion a hookup had laughed in his ear and said he felt like he was fucking a corpse. After he finished, he’d practically shoved Dream out the door, cheerfully letting him know “this ain’t a morgue, sweetheart” with a wink before slamming the door in his face. When he got home, he sat in the shower for hours, wondering why no one had a problem with his body when they were fucking him, but they did when he wanted anything else. But. Hob does not need these details. Strangely, he looks upset with the little Dream has revealed. “God, people can be such assholes.” Dream tilted his head, “You often talk about how much you value truthfulness. I would think you’d appreciate their brutal honesty.” “I hate brutal honesty.” The vehemence in his voice catches Dream by surprise. Turning to give Dream his full attention, Hob continues, “The whole ‘brutal honesty’ thing is an excuse people use to get away with being cruel. I value compassionate honesty. Much different.” Not for the first time, Dream thinks that Hob Gadling is the strangest man he’s ever met. “Very well,” he responds slowly, “In that case. Out of compassion, I will tell you that I am a poor bedmate. You are being very kind to let me stay the night, you need not sacrifice your comfort as well.” Hob hums in consideration, crossing his arms as he looks at Dream in consideration, “Would it make you uncomfortable?” The question catches him by surprise, and for a moment Dream just blinks at him. “Pardon?” “Well, you keep going on about my comfort,” Hob points out, “If you’re uncomfortable sharing, and this is like, your roundabout way of getting out of it, that’s totally fine, I’ll drop it,” He raises an eyebrow like a challenge, “But be honest.”

[cece693]

Let Me Draw You (Ken x Male Reader)

Just saw the Barbie movie and tell me why I felt so bad for Ken. Like all he wanted was to feel appreciated and seen by Barbie :( So, I plan to change the movie slightly to include Ken finding happiness for himself.

Summary: While Barbie was off exploring the real world, Ken was left to his own devices. Roaming the streets, he stumbles upon a coffee shop where you decide he is your next muse.

tags: Barbie movie, reader is a man from the real world, Ken is a confused puppy, he finds someone who thinks he's enough

Ken wandered through the streets of the real world, his wide eyes brimming with curiosity. Everything around him seemed larger, louder, and busier than anything in Barbie Land. People hustled past him, some throwing strange glances his way, probably because he was still dressed head to toe in his *new* favorite cowboy outfit. But Ken didn’t mind.

As he continued walking, his blue eyes caught sight of something—or rather, someone—staring directly at him from inside a small café. A man sat by the window, his gaze locked onto Ken with an intensity that made Ken freeze in his tracks. For a second, Ken thought he might’ve done something wrong. Did he accidentally break some unspoken real-world rule? Did he have something on his face?

Before Ken could decide whether to bolt or keep walking, the café door flew open, and the man came rushing toward him. His expression was filled with excitement, and he seemed so eager that he nearly tripped over himself. “Hey! You!” the man called out, breathless, as he came to a halt in front of Ken.

Ken blinked, pointing to himself in confusion. “Me?”

"Yeah, you!" The man was practically bouncing on his feet, his eyes scanning Ken up and down as though he couldn’t believe his luck. “I’m sorry to stop you, but I just have to draw you.”

Ken tilted his head, his confusion deepening. “Draw me?” he repeated slowly, trying to make sense of what the man was asking. “Why?”

The man smiled, clearly amused by Ken’s innocent bewilderment. “Because you’re perfect, just stunning. Your features, they’re unreal. You look like a sculpture or like a doll.” His eyes twinkled as he took in Ken’s sharp cheekbones and the way his hair perfectly framed his face.

Ken’s mind was spinning. He’d been called many things in his life—cool, fashionable, maybe even handsome once or twice—but no one had ever stopped him on the street just to draw him. He stood there, helpless and unsure, like a puppy who didn’t quite know what it was supposed to do. His big blue eyes darted from the man to the café, then back to the man again. No Barbie in sight to guide him.

“I…I guess?” Ken finally stammered, still sounding more confused than anything. Before he could say anything else, the man gently grabbed his arm, his touch soft but insistent, and began guiding him toward the café.

Ken allowed himself to be pulled along, stumbling slightly as he tried to keep up with the man’s eager pace. His mind was still trying to catch up to the situation, his heart fluttering in his chest with a strange mix of nerves and excitement. The man’s enthusiasm was contagious, and though Ken didn’t fully understand why he was being dragged into this café, he found himself smiling a little.

Once inside, the man ushered Ken to a small table by the window. “Here, sit down,” he said, his voice warm and inviting. Ken sat down awkwardly, fidgeting with the hem of his vest as he looked around.

“So, um…what do I do?” Ken asked, his voice soft and unsure, as he shifted in his seat. His feet fidgeted under the table, and his hands hovered in the air like he didn’t know what to do with them.

The man smiled, already pulling out a sketchpad and pencil from his bag. “Just be yourself,” he said simply, glancing up at Ken with a soft chuckle. “You don’t have to do anything. Just sit.”

“O-okay,” Ken mumbled, still unsure but trying his best to relax. He watched the man as he began sketching, his pencil moving quickly over the paper. Ken was used to being looked at, but this felt different. The way the man’s eyes flickered back and forth between him and the page made Ken feel…special, like he was worth paying attention to, not just because he was with Barbie, but because he was him.

As the man sketched, Ken found himself staring at him with quiet admiration. There was something calming about the way he worked, how his whole focus seemed to be on capturing Ken on the page. It made Ken’s heart flutter in a way that was new, unfamiliar, and a little overwhelming. Time seemed to slow down, and for once, Ken didn’t feel lost or unsure of himself. He didn’t feel like he needed to be anything other than who he was, and that was kind of nice.

When the man finally finished, he turned the sketchpad around, revealing the drawing to Ken with a proud smile. Ken’s eyes went wide as he stared at it. The drawing wasn’t just accurate—it captured something more. There was a softness in his expression, a vulnerability that Ken hadn’t even realized was there.

“Wow…” Ken whispered, his voice barely audible. He didn’t know what else to say. The sketch was beautiful, and it was him, but somehow, it made him feel more real than he ever had before.

The man smiled at Ken’s reaction, seeming pleased with his work. Then, almost as an afterthought, he tore the page from his sketchpad and handed it to Ken. “Here. You should keep this.”

Ken blinked, staring down at the sketch in his hands as if it were the most precious thing in the world. “Really? I can keep it?”

“Of course,” the man said with a soft chuckle. “I made it for you.”

Ken’s heart swelled with a warm, unfamiliar feeling, something that made his chest feel light and tingly. “Thank you…” he mumbled, still staring at the drawing in awe.

The man stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I’ve got to run, but…maybe I’ll see you around?” He gave Ken one last smile before turning and walking out of the café.

Ken watched the man go, his gaze lingering on his retreating figure with a quiet sense of longing. There was something about him that made Ken feel safe, like he didn’t have to be anything other than himself. He stared after him, feeling that same flutter in his chest, something warm and hopeful.

As Ken sat there, clutching the sketch, he noticed something scribbled on the back of the paper. He flipped it over, and his eyes widened. There, written in small, messy handwriting, was a phone number. Ken’s heart skipped a beat, his cheeks flushing as he stared at the numbers. He glanced up again, watching the man disappear into the busy street. A soft, shy smile crept onto his face as the realization slowly sank in.

Maybe the real world wasn’t so bad after all.

[livingdeadblondequeen]

Off Script Feelings

Pairing:  Norman Reedus x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4453

Warnings: RPF, This is a work of fiction.

Summary: Something happens between you and your friend Norman that changes things.

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated.

Dedicated to: @minervadashwood & @littlegodzilla

‘If he was Rick, ya’d done the same thang.’

Erin shook her head, ‘No, because Rick wouldn’t treat me like Merle treats you.’

‘Ya don’t know nothan’’ Daryl snapped. 

‘I know Merle was the one that took me, Glen, and Maggie, back to that psycho as some kind of peace offering knowing what he was like. How could you go with him after that?’

‘Merle is my family, my blood. He’s all I got.” 

‘No, you got us. After everything, we’re family too.’ Erin pleaded. 

‘Nah, that’s Rick, and, Carl, and the baby. I’m just a tagalong ya’ll keep round to hunt n’ stuff.’

‘Then why’d you come back?’

‘I dun know!’ Daryl raged. 

“And Cut! That’s a wrap!”

You watched as all the anger and frustration vanished from your costar’s face, replaced with his concerned eyes and a small smile before he stepped forward to envelop you in his arms. You buried your face in his broad chest and took the comfort he offered you. “Sorry, sorry. Was it too much?”

“No, it was good, it just felt a little too real is all,” You explained as you pulled back and looked up at him. “Sometimes you’re just too good of an actor Norman.”

“Nah, just good at being an asshole,” Norman replied with a laugh as he kept his arm around your shoulder.

You laughed along with him, thinking of one particular instance where he had indeed been a bit of an asshole or at least you thought he was. It just happened to be the first time they met. 

You had been hired as one of the original cast members of The Walking Dead TV series, to play the younger sister to Andy’s character Rick, Erin Grimes. You had bonded quickly with your onscreen ‘family’ including Jon but also the other cast members so you had been excited to meet another one going into the next episode. 

You had been grabbing something to eat between takes at the crafts table when you heard someone come up behind you. You turned to discover it was Norman Reedus (You’d googled him like you had almost everyone) but before you could introduce yourself, he gave you one look and laughed in your face. You were so thrown off guard and embarrassed that you had stomped away. You couldn’t believe they had hired someone like that and you mentally hoped they killed off his character quickly. 

It wasn’t until a short while later when Sarah pointed out that you had food on your face that you knew that was why Norman had laughed at you. Your anger dissipated, replaced with embarrassment. The next time you saw Norman, the two of you talked about what happened and your friendship had begun. Now a few years later, the two of you were thick as thieves. 

“Let’s go out tonight, and grab some food and drinks,” Norman suggested as he guided the two of you off the set and towards your waiting trailers. “Nothing shakes off the day like shots.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his suggestion. They usually used shots as the cure for anything, though sometimes that led them to more trouble. “While I like the idea, I am not up for going out. Today took a lot out of me.”

“We’ll stay in then.” He said with a shrug. 

“No, you don’t have to do that.” You said as you shook your head. You didn’t want to ruin his night. “Go out with the others and enjoy yourself.”

“I don’t know of anyone going out tonight,” Norman replied simply while rubbing a finger along his bottom lip and you knew he was coming up with something. “How about we go to my place? I’ll even cook if there is nothing we want to order and I have plenty of liquor. You can crash overnight if you need to.”

You were close to declining his offer when you thought better of it. While being out with a bunch of people didn’t sound appealing, neither did being home alone. “How can I say no to that offer?”

Norman smiled that beautiful smile that made the fan girls melt at you and you felt your heart beat a little faster, your stomach do a little flip, and another part of your anatomy grow in warmth. You couldn’t help it. Norman may be a close friend, but what you felt for him wasn’t just friendship. You knew it was more yet you did your best to not show it. You didn’t want to ruin things between you so you did not admit how you felt.

The two of you talked over the details before you decided that showering at his house would be better than your trailers. So you changed out of your costume, grabbed your bag, said goodbye to the rest of the cast and crew before you followed Norman’s bike to his house in your car. 

Showering at Norman’s or one of the cast’s places wasn’t new. It happened more than most people would think. It came in handy given that the cast hung out a lot together after their days were done so you needed no direction to the guests’ bathroom at Norman’s house. This was good considering his cat distracted him when they walked in the door. The powerful pressure and hot water felt wonderful on your skin as it washed away the dirt and makeup from the day. You became so relaxed that you stayed under the water longer than you meant to, so you quickly shut off the shower. 

Dressed in yoga pants and a T-shirt, you headed towards the music playing in the living room to look for Norman. It only took a moment to find him in his kitchen, phone to his ear, talking to someone while cooking. From what you could see by the ingredients, he was making one of your favorite dishes. 

You took a moment to look him over. His hair was still slightly damp so you knew he must have showered before he dressed in a dark pair of lounge pants and a plain white T-shirt with no socks, perfect for a night in. When he caught sight of you, he motioned to the beer he was drinking from then the fridge where you knew cold beer was waiting for you.

Not wanting to eavesdrop on his call, you took your drink to the couch to relax. You were so focused on the game on your phone that you didn’t hear Norman approach you until a plate of food suddenly appeared. It smelled delicious and you could barely contain a moan. “You’re a Saint.”

“Aye lass,” Norman replied in his Murphy accent as he winked while you laughed. Along with the food, he had brought another round of beers that he sat down before taking a spot next to you, close enough that the lengths of your legs were touching. 

As you ate, you listened to Norman as he told a story about something that had recently happened during his last trip to New York, as always surprised that he didn’t end up wearing half of his food as he did so. Norman always talked so animatedly that people teased that you watched him talk versus listening. It was like having dinner and a show. You had just finished the second beer when the topic of your conversation turned towards work and the scenes you had been filming. 

“After what we shot today, it looks like the writers are planning on something happening with Daryl and Erin,” Norman commented as he looked at you as if he needed confirmation. 

“Yeah.” You nodded in agreement. During season one, there was a scene between their two characters when the gang was at the CDC that got the fans speculating that there could be something more between the archer and the sheriff’s sister. The idea grew after season two aired and they shared more scenes on the farm and the search for Sophia. People ‘shipped’ them, they said they enjoyed watching Daryl’s interactions with Erin as well as his friendship with Carol. It had been talked about quite a bit at the conventions they had been to, though not all of Daryl’s fans were on board. “Or at least the seeds of it, see if the fans really want it. Drag it out as a slow burn.”

“What?” Norman asked confused. 

“Slow burn, it’s a well-known romance trope, where the writers take a long time to get a couple together.” You explained.

“Ah, I defer to the expert.” He said with a smile. It was well-known on set that you read a lot on set between takes, most of them being some type of romance novels. Norman and Andy loved to tease you about the more racy ones you read. 

“Hey!” You replied before smacking his arm. “Not all of us can be the brooding photographer, I need something to keep occupied during the downtime.” 

“Well all you’d have to do is ask and I’d be happy to keep you occupied.” 

Trying not to let Norman’s joke affect you too much, you focused back on the talk of your characters. “IF they get them together, they will actually be doing several troupes; enemies to lovers, best friend’s sister, maybe idiots in love.” 

“Whatever they do, I’m still all for playing Daryl completely lost at what to do,” Norman professed. You had heard him talk about playing Daryl as a stranger to physical relationships, or as he explained it ‘having no game’. “Not like a virgin but damn close. Erin would have to make the first move. I’m sure any time he’s been laid in the past was drunk in an alley or something quick like that.” 

“So Erin would be a seductress?” You asked as your eyebrow raised. 

“Ha, nothing like that. Just like in the moment, she would have to be the one to do anything because Daryl wouldn’t think to do it.” Norman explained. “Say the two of them are really close, physically I mean, and anyone watching would think it is the moment, but Daryl just wouldn’t do it.”

“Hmmm. I can see it.” You agreed. You didn’t know if it was the buzz you were feeling from the beers that gave you the courage to do it or if you had just lost your mind but you shifted around so you were on your knees and brought your face closer to Norman’s. You saw a brief flicker of surprise in his beautiful blue eyes before they turned curious as to what you were doing. 

“What if Daryl did something for her, and as a thank you she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek? Then when she pulls back, their faces are really close. So then she would take the chance and press her lips to his.” You explained. 

“I think I see what you are saying, but you should show me,” Norman said, his eyes dropping to your lips at the same time as his eyes darkened.  

You licked your lips before you began to lean forward. You had kissed Norman on the cheek numerous times, but this felt different. Not letting your nerves stop you, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his stubbled cheek, just a hairsbreadth away from the corner of his lips. You pulled back slightly, keeping your eyes locked on Norman’s. “Like that, then when she pulled back, he would be looking at her and they have a moment. Then she would kiss him.”

“Hmmm,” Norman murmured in acknowledgment and kept his eyes locked on yours. “Show me.”

You leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. They were soft and tender, not at all like you expected them to be. He was tentative, and exploratory, the velvety smooth touch of his lips ignited desire within your body. Norman's lips moved against yours for a moment before he withdrew slightly away from her, opening his eyes to look to you for a reaction. Instead of saying anything, you ran your hand along the side of his neck and pulled him towards you to place a firm kiss on his lips. 

This kiss was full of desire and passion. All the sexual tension between the two of them that had built up over the time you had met each other fueled the moment. Norman’s mouth molded over yours, hard and persuasive, parting your lips with the thrust of his tongue. He ravished your mouth as he brought his hands to your hips and tugged you to straddle him, bringing you closer to him deepening the kiss as he did. 

Your bodies rubbed against each other trying to touch as much as possible. You could lose yourself in his touch the way your body instinctively molded into his. Norman moved away from your mouth, his soft lips left soft kisses against your temple, the outline of your ear, your jaw. He found a spot behind your right ear and lingered there until your breath grew ragged. 

He continued his journey down the column of your throat, his breath warming where your neck met shoulder. You couldn’t help but bite down on your lower lip to stifle a soft gasp as his stubble brushed against the delicate skin along your collarbone, his lips sought out and found the most sensitive spots on your neck, causing the nerve endings in your skin to tingle in anticipation. You released the hold you had on his neck, letting your hands slide down so you could run your hands over the muscles of his chest. You could feel his muscles contract a little at your touch and your hips moved, brushing your core against his hard arousal. 

At your movement, Norman’s hands slid down from your waist to over your ass. He squeezed it roughly before he moved them down farther to the back of your thighs. His grip tightened on your thighs before he rose from the couch. When you felt yourself leave the couch, you wrapped your legs around Norman's waist. You yelped a little in surprise, but you knew that his strong arms had you secure against him. Without pulling away from you, Norman made his way down the hall towards his bedroom. 

*****

The first thing you noticed as you came out of sleep was a heavyweight you weren’t used to draped across your midsection. You cracked your eyes open to see what it was and found yourself face to face with a sleeping Norman. He lay on his stomach while you were on your back, and his arm wrapped loosely at your side. Your eyes wandered lower and saw naked flesh down to the slope of his ass where a sheet lay half-hazard. Confusion flooded you for a moment before the memories of the night before flooded your thoughts and you know exactly how you got into the state you were in; naked in Norman’s bed with him. You had had sex with him, and not just once if your memories and ache in your body were correct. 

Very carefully you slid out from under Norman’s large arm, thankfully not waking him, and began hunting for your clothes. You couldn’t believe you had been so stupid to let yourself give in to your feelings for Norman. What were you thinking? This was going to screw up everything. If it had just been sex between friends, you could deal with it and you knew that was what Norman had probably been thinking it was. However, your feelings for him made things much harder to deal with. 

Once you found your clothes, plus your keys and phone you crept towards the door but stopped when a flicker of movement caught your eyes. You glanced over thinking it was Norman but instead finding yourself caught in the stare of Eyes in the Dark. And if you weren’t wrong, he had a look of judgment on his face. “Great, I’m caught doing the walk of shame by a cat.”

After you escaped the house and headed back to your place without breaking too many speeding laws, you took a quick shower. A part of you didn’t want to wash off Norman’s scent but you had to go to the set and you couldn’t go smelling like sex. You found several marks on your body but thankfully he had kept them in areas that could be covered easily by clothes. You didn’t want to have to explain to the makeup people why they had to cover up hickeys on your neck. 

Thankfully the scenes you had to do for the day were with Andy and Chandler and not with Norman. You couldn’t even remember if he was filming that day, the lack of sleep and your mind going over what happened had done a number on you. Luckily you remembered your lines and had no issues that might give yourself away. Or so you thought. 

“You seem off today is all,” Andy said as he came up and sat next to you out of the way as the two of you waited for the crew to line up the next scene. You looked up from your phone, you noticed you had a few missed phone calls and even more missed texts from Norman. 

“Just tired.” You replied with a small smile but Andy seemed to study you even closer at your answer as he took a drag off his cigarette. 

He nudges your shoulder with a teasing smirk, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. "I don't think that's it," he comments, the words hanging heavy in the air between you, thick with unspoken implications. You know with a certainty that borders on dread that Andy won't cease his gentle pestering. His persistence is unmatched, a relentless tide of playful prodding that washes over you, leaving you feeling increasingly exposed. It reminds you painfully of Norman, his own brand of determined teasing, a constant, low-grade annoyance that somehow, inexplicably, you found yourself strangely drawn to.

A wave of self-deprecation washes over you. Internally, you roll your eyes at your own predictable weakness. You know, with a frustrating certainty, that you'll soon cave.

"Fine," you relent, the word escaping your lips before you can fully consider the consequences. "But you cannot say anything to anyone. Except Gail, of course. But no one else."

Andy, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint that belies his easy going demeanor, assures you, "You have my word."

Casting a quick glance around, you check for any lurking ears, your gaze sweeping the room for potential eavesdroppers. The air feels thick with a sudden, unwarranted paranoia. Finally, you commit, the words tumbling out in a rush, "I might have… kind of… had sex with Norman last night."

Andy raises an eyebrow, feigning an exaggerated seriousness that does little to conceal the amusement bubbling beneath the surface. "You're not sure?" he asks, his voice dripping with playful disbelief. A gentle jest, you know, aimed more at easing your tension than anything else.

Your glare is half-hearted, a feeble attempt to scold him for his teasing. "I'm sure we did. That's the problem."

"Why? Was it that bad?" he quips, unable to fully suppress the grin that threatens to split his face.

Unable to suppress your own laughter, a sound that bubbles up from somewhere deep within you, you find yourself admitting, "Stop! It's not that."

"What?" He laughs with you, his eyes gleaming with genuine curiosity. "Just asking why it's a problem?"

Exasperated yet oddly amused, you exclaim, "WHY? Why do you think? If it was just sex, between friends, it'd be okay, but this is sex with Norman."

Andy's confusion is evident, his brow furrowing slightly as he tries to decipher your words. "How is that different? You and Norman are friends, close friends."

"We are," you confess, the weight of your admission settling heavily on your chest. "It's just… I might care about Norman as a little more than a friend." Saying it aloud is strange, a truth you've only ever confided in Lauren, a secret that has festered within you, unspoken and unacknowledged. Now that you've started confessing, it's like a dam has burst, the flood of your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "So sleeping with him was beyond stupid of me. It's like I wanted to torture myself because I know something more with him is something I can't have."

Andy, with the ease of someone who has long since accepted the absurdity of your situation, asks, "What makes you say that?"

"Because Norman just sees me as a friend," you say, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

Andy's sudden, boisterous laughter catches you completely off guard, the last reaction you were expecting. "I'm glad the mess of my life is funny," you retort, a mixture of playful indignation and genuine hurt coloring your voice.

"Oh sweetheart, that is not what I'm laughing at," he explains, his laughter subsiding as he pulls you into a comforting embrace. "It's hilarious how blind the two of you are."

"What do you mean?" you ask, your curiosity piqued despite your earlier annoyance.

"It is obvious to everyone but you two how much you care about each other," Andy says, his voice soft and sincere. "Maybe even in love with each other. You might have just told me, but I've known for a while now. Jon even left me with orders to text him as soon as the two of you got it together. We might all be actors, but the two of you can't hide it to save your life."

You opened your mouth to argue more, but before you could the call back to our marks was called out. Everything Andy said was on a loop in your head an hour later when you headed back to your trailer for a break. You were so distracted that you didn’t even notice the other person inside until you shut the door behind you. Then you found yourself trapped by a pair of piercing blue eyes. “Norman.”

He sat on the sofa in his regular clothes, hat, and sunglasses sitting next to him. His phone was in his hand but he paid no attention, instead focused on you. “Imagine my surprise when I woke up and found myself alone this morning.” 

“I had to get to set.” You stated but even to your ears, it sounded like a weak excuse. You could see Norman thought the same thing by the look on his face. 

“I’ve been texting, and calling. Decided you couldn’t ignore me if I showed up,” Norman said as stood up and walked towards you. You could tell he was watching you to make sure he didn’t make you uncomfortable or that you’d run from him. When you didn’t, he leaned his forehead against yours and his hands on your hips before he whispered. “Did we mess things up last night? Did I?”

You closed your eyes as you leaned into him. “No. It wasn’t you. I shouldn’t have kissed you in the first place.” 

“You might not have noticed, but I didn’t mind.” He joked. “I enjoyed it a lot and I thought you did too.”

“I did. A lot.” You admitted. It was the truth. The night spent with Norman had been incredible, and not just because of the many orgasms he had pulled out of you. It had been passionate and intense mixed with tenderness. A level of intimacy you had rarely felt before. And you were feeling it right now in his arms as well.

“I wanted everything just as much as you did. I wanted you.” Norman stated before adding. “I still want you.”

“It is not that simple Norman. I wish it was something as simple as sex between friends, blowing off steam after a tense day. I can’t separate sex from how I feel about you.” You admitted. You hadn’t planned to tell Norman how you felt, but what had gone as you thought it would since last night. “I could put those feelings aside to just be your friend but having a physical relationship would be too much.”

“Then don’t.” 

“Don’t?” You repeated.

“Don’t put your feelings aside,” Norman explained. “For me what happened last night wasn’t just sex. I took you to my bed because I wanted you, not because you are beautiful and sexy as hell but because you’re you. And when you kissed me, I hoped that meant something, that there was something more between us.”

“Really?” You asked and Norman nodded. You couldn’t believe it, Andy had been right. 

“Yes.” He answered. “I enjoy the time we spend together, and I value you as a friend, but friendship is not the only way I want you in my life. I know I’m not easy to deal with, even working together there are times I’m gone, and there are a bunch of other reasons why you wouldn’t want to be with me but I hope.”

“I don’t care.” You said to interrupt him. “I know what I’m getting into and none of that stuff matters.”

This time the smile Norman gave you was a shy one, but still got your heart rate up. “So we’re doing this?”

“Yes. I want to see where this goes.” 

“Hmm, I think we should seal this with a kiss.” 

“Oh you do, do you?” You said with a laugh. 

Instead of answering with words, Norman moved to do what he suggested. His lips had just brushed yours when there was a knock at the door, one of the crew calling you back to set. You both groaned at the horrible timing. 

Norman kissed the tip of your nose, then your forehead before saying. “Go finish your scenes. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

“You’re staying here?” You knew Norman had no reason to be on set today besides coming to see you.

“Yeah. I’ll keep myself occupied and when you’re done, I’ll take you out to dinner. Unless you want to stay in again?”

“Tempting, but I think dinner out would be nice.” You stated. You liked the idea of the two of you alone but also thought it would be nice go to out. It would keep the two of you in check if others were around. 

Norman planted a quick kiss on your lips before pushing you towards the door. “Go, before I decide to say fuck the shooting schedule and not let you out of here.”

You laughed at his ‘threat’. “Okay, I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”