#still sticking mostly to pots

[psalacanthea]

I think the front bed just might get thrown full of potato plants, marigolds, and spinach. We have plenty of leaf mulch, but the soil is quite stony. I wanted to do sweet potatoes but it's just not the right bed.

then, once the potatoes are done, I can throw in some squash vines for mid-summer/autumn, and then winter squash and mizuna afterward. Just going to have to figure out the soil tending between each crop.

my biggest issue with this bed is just going to be weeding, as we let it grow for a couple years so the cinnabar moths had a place to hatch and just to refresh the not so great soil. The ragweed was starting to get bad, but a couple years of tending the moths and almost no ragweed last year. Which is good, because as houses around us are bought up and everything is cut down and destroyed, it gets harder and harder to maintain a balance between lawn and wild spaces. So many trees are gone ;_;

I've been looking at the style of growing, where they put cardboard around the plant and then tack down sheeting to cover everything but the plant, but IDK. That would look pretty ugly out front. I think maybe this is an elbow grease problem and not an engineering problem tbh. I'd rather weed just what I have to.

[grunge-mermaid]

making chicken pot pie for supper tonight and the recipe says to "allow dish to rest for 10 minutes before serving" but also to "serve hot"

in this kitchen, I cannot do both.

[shouyuus]

adding onto the vi sleeps shirtless req only now it's college roommatevi! who wakes up to you pounding at her door at fuck-crack of dawn (or midday, if she went out the night before) and who stumbles out of bed, still mostly asleep and wearing only a ratty pair of boxers, to shutyouup answer

(you weren't made for blood pressures this high, and it's only like 8 AM)

xx vi sleeps shirtless truther

18+, no sex, just a nip-mention

JUST. college roommate!vi answering the door, squinty-eyed, her hair an absolute menace, sticking up in every direction, you standing there, wanting to be pissed at her bc its like... the 5th time she's used your stainless steel pot without cleaning it correctly and just leaving it in the sink but -- holy shit -- she's in a pair of old, bright red, calvin klein boxer briefs and nothing else, grumbling at you, the sunrise peaking over her shoulder, casting her in this golden, ethereal glow like --

"what, cupcake?" and her voice is gravely with sleep but you really can't focus on anything else bc... did you even know her nipples were pieced? you might've had an inkling bc she has some strange aversion to ever wearing proper bras so you've kinda maybe noticed the shape of them through all her tanktops and band tee's but -- now they're just right there --

"uh -- uhm --" you stutter, your brain short-circuiting way harder than you'd imagined, the dirty pot still in your hand, though it's held slack at your side bc really -- what the fuck are you supposed to say to this?

vi quirks an eyebrow, clearly confused and more than a little annoyed. she glances down at her chest, rolling her eyes. on any other day, she might've teased you, but she'd had a really late night last night and its one of the few days she doesn't have morning practice so she really doesn't appreciate you cutting into her sleep.

"c'mon princess, it's not like you haven't got a pair yourself," she says, shifting her weight from one leg to another, making her tits bounce slightly. you jerk your eyes away, cheeks going so hot you think you might get 3rd degree burns.

"just --" you cast your eyes up towards... anywhere but vi's tits, "the -- do you --" you sputter, grasping for a coherent sentence. but for some stupid reason, the only thing you can come up with is "i was... gonna make breakfast. d-did you want anything?"

vi stares, half-incredulous, half-confused.

"breakfast?" she glances at the large alarm clock sitting atop her half-opened drawers. it blinks a steady 7:48AM at her in dull red LED lights.

"nevermind -- i -- it was stupid. sorry for waking you --" you turn on your heels, feeling the room closing in around you, your fingers shaking around the pot handle.

"jesus, princess -- unless you're offering up yourself on a silver platter, don't ever wake me up at 7am again for fuckin' breakfast --"

vi's door clicks closed but you're left peering over your shoulder, eyes wide as dinner plates. because did she say what you think she did?

after a few solid seconds on blinking at her closed door, you scurry away to the kitchen to soak the stainless steel with bar keeper's friend, frowning down at the foamy mess in the kitchen sink, doing everything you can not to think about what it might look like if you did offer yourself to vi for breakfast.

you sigh, blowing a strand of hair from your face, frowning down at the stainless steel pot.

maybe next time.

[plethorawrites]

Hey! Your work is amazing! Would you be willing to do a fic with Dick Grayson x reader where the reader owns a cat and they are moving in together or something and they introduce Haley and the cat. If not that's okay! Hope you have a great day/night!

Awww, this is an adorable idea! I love it sm. (TW: Slight mentions of blood.)

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

"This is a bad idea," was the first thing you said as you settled into a crisscrossed position on your boyfriend's carpet.

"Such a cynical outlook," Dick muttered in response, with a sarcastic tone as his grip on Haley's collar tightened just a little bit, keeping her firmly on his lap to make sure she didn't get too excited.

She was the sweetest dog alive, in his opinion (and yours too, for that matter) but she tended to be a little rambunctious, jumping all over you the second you came over or chasing her tail in circles until she knocked over a plant and broke the pot.

That was usually more than tolerable for a few dog lovers like you and Dick, but your cat on the other, might have a different opinion.

"Just make sure she doesn't scare him, please," you urged cautiously, still holding your cat's nice carrier on your lap as you sat across from him on the floor of his living room.

He nodded. "Just make sure he keeps his claws to himself, too," he replied, mostly teasing but with just enough sincerity to make you verbally agree.

Your fingers tugged at the zipper, gently pulling it open until Haley could see your cat, curled up in the back of his cozy carrier. She immediately got excited, going from sitting in Dick's lap to nearly choking herself as she tried to scramble towards the cat.

Dick pulled her back into his lap firmly, ignoring the scratching of her claws as she whined, her singular front paw tapping his leg over and over as she tried to jump up and down.

Your cat, understandably, hissed at her. That just seemed to confuse her more.

You shushed him softly, carefully reaching into the carrier to pet him. "You're okay," you muttered, stroking his fur, which was sticking up from stress. "She's just a puppy, she gets eager."

"Yeah, she doesn't know how to tolerate an old man," Dick added.

Your cat was a senior by now, going on ten or eleven years old, with a few joint problems and an attitude to match. But you loved him and he had to admit there were a few times when he was over at your apartment and fell asleep, only to wake up with your cat lying on him.

You glanced at him, still petting your cat gently. "That makes two of us."

His mouth dropped open. "I'm barely three years older than you," he reminded you. "I'm not a dinosaur."

Before you could respond, Haley suddenly got excited again and with a bit of frustration at her inability to see your cat up close, she barked.

"Ow!" You pulled your hand back as your cat scratched you in response to the abrupt sound.

Dick's eyes widened. "Are you okay?" He asked quickly, unsure if he should move to help you or keep Haley further away than she already was to avoid making it worse.

With a grimace, you nodded. "Yeah, fine, he just got scared," you told him, examining your arm which was cut with two sharp, long lines, already bleeding.

"I think that's enough bonding for the day," he said. "We should clean that before it gets infected."

"Alright," you conceded with ease, zipping up the front of your cat's carrier and lifting him off the ground to put him on the kitchen island, as far away from Haley as possible.

Dick let go of his puppy and she immediately ran to the kitchen, making little hops and barks as she stared up at your cat. "Haley, no," he chastised, instantly making her sit down, tilting her head in confusion. "Lay down," he said sternly waiting for her to listen.

Thankfully, she'd been going to behavioral classes lately and had at least learned something. She laid down quickly and he sighed, standing up and helping you off the floor, before resting his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to the bathroom to take care of your cut.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he lifted you onto the counter of the sink with ease before grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with warm water.

"So..." You drawled, rolling your sleeve up a bit more for him as he dragged the cloth over your skin. "That didn't go very well."

He clicked his tongue, focusing on your arm, trying not to hurt you as he wiped the blood off. "Definitely not," he agreed quietly, clearly equally as disappointed.

You were both hoping they'd get along or at least keep a fair distance from each other until they could start bonding. But apparently a young puppy and an old cat don't mix very well.

"What do we do?" You asked as he set the cloth down, searching for Neosporin. "I can't move in without my cat. And I'm not going to make him live in his carrier."

He nodded. "I know," he remarked. "I'm not gonna force Haley into a cage all day either. I don't get to spend enough time with her as it is." She got bored and lonely when he was away for a long time, working or out of town for some long family thing. He'd miss her too.

You winced when he spread the ointment across your arm, resting your head against the wall, watching him. "I really wanna live with you," you mumbled quietly.

He looked up from where he was unraveling a large spool of gauze, the kind he'd use on his vigilante injuries. "I really want to live with you, too," he responded, tearing the bandage and gently wrapping it around your arm.

Dick pulled your sleeve back down for you, his hand wrapping around your forearm, swiping his thumb back and forth across it as he started at you.

"They'll like each other eventually, right?" You asked. "They have to."

He shrugged, pulling you down from the counter, flush against him. "I hope so," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Come on, I'll give your cat some catnip or something to make him mellow out."

A subtle scoff left your lips. Your cat would never be the problem, in your opinion. But you refrained from saying that because you knew how defensive he was about Haley. As he should be. She was the sweetest. When she wasn't extremely riled up.

Walking back into the kitchen, you sat at the counter, turning your cat's carrier towards you to see how he was doing. Probably stressed, you figured.

Your eyes widened a bit, realizing it hadn't been fully zipped. And it was now completely open. Not to mention empty.

"Dick," you called, reaching out, smacking his arm in panic. "Dick. Where the hell is my cat?"

He furrowed his brows in confusion, before turning and realizing what you were talking about. He glanced around quickly for any sign of him. "Okay. Okay, don't panic," he said quickly, putting his hand on your shoulder. "It's a small apartment. He's here somewhere."

"Yeah, but so is Haley," you reminded him.

He could jump pretty high, sure. He had decent agility considering his age. But he was still a lot slower than an energetic puppy.

"She won't hurt him," Dick assured you. He didn't know that. He was just hoping. "I'll check the bedroom, you check the living room."

With a nod, you slid off the seat, rushing into the living room and searching for any sign of your cat. Under the couch seemed like a good option, but he wasn't there. Nor behind the TV. He wasn't in any of the open drawers of the TV standard.

"He's not here!" You shouted to Dick, throwing one of the couch cushions on the floor with a frustrated grunt.

"Relax!" He called back, from the bedroom. "I found him."

You rushed towards the room, eager to see your cat, hoping he wasn't scared under the bed or hiding in the closet. You pushed the door open, eyes going straight to Dick who had his arms crossed and his head tilted, staring at the bed in amusement.

Your gaze followed his and you immediately found your cat, curled up into a ball, right beside Haley on the bed. "Wha-" your mouth opened and shut in confusion as you took a step forward to scoop him up but then decided against it.

"Told you she wouldn't hurt him," Dick muttered sweetly, reaching out to brush the hair off your shoulder.

Haley perked up slightly, seeing them, but then put her head back down, resting it on your cat's fluffy stomach as he laid on the sheets, yawning.

You huffed, scrubbing your face and turning to him. "I got scratched for nothing," you complained with no real malice before wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. "Does this mean it's actually happening?" You murmured against him. "We're really gonna live together?"

He rested his chin on the top of your head, a smile tugging at his lips as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. "Yeah," he confirmed, his eyes watching his dog and cat cuddle. "We're really gonna live together."

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

embry, i'm coming home

pairing; embry call x reader

warnings; kissing i guess idk

just getting back into this, tell me your thoughts and stuff - maybe even request a thing or two

summary; you're Quil's sister, and go over to confront Embry about ditching him, and instead, he imprints on you.

Being Quil's twin sister, you'd known Embry pretty much forever. Growing up beside each other, you'd always thought he was cute, but you never told Quil. You already knew he'd never allow it. It also wasn't something you wanted to do to them, if anything were to happen, it would shift the whole group dynamic, and no one wanted that.

You two had always loved each other, and you both knew it.

But when Embry had started ignoring all his friends... well, it really pissed you off.

Quil and Jake were left sad, upset but mostly confused. What was Embry up to that they couldn't know about? What was Sam Uley doing to these guys that turned them into such a tight lipped, secretive little club.

You were tired of seeing Quil so devastated, and one day, after he got home and locked himself in his room. You'd had enough of it.

Embry didn't have to hang out with them if he didn't want to, but he didn't have to be a dick about it either.

So you got into your mom's car, and drove over to his house. The silence of the broken car stereo just egged your anger on more, making it. And as you thought of what to say, it got more and more irritated.

Parking in the laneway of Embry's house, you saw there were no cars in the drive. And you were thankful for that, no one around to witness you yelling at him for being a shitty friend.

You knocked loudly a couple times, but no one came to the door. You tried peaking in through the window, and didn't see his mom or anyone else in the living room, so she must not have been there. You weren't leaving without answers, so you dug the spare key out of it's hidden spot in the big flower pot out front, wiping the dirt off on your pant leg, you let yourself into his house.

There was music playing softly in his room, he always let it play while he slept. Something you used to find endearing, but right now it somehow also made you mad.

You pushed open the door to his room, and there he was, laying face down, sheets tangled around his legs, back and muscles on full display. If you didn't know any better, you wouldn't even believe this was Embry, he looked so different. His short hair was messy, sticking up in random spots from tossing and turning. He'd always been a restless sleeper.

You picked a random trinket off his dresser, an unsolved rubicks cube, and threw it at him, the sharp corner hitting him on the back, and he sprung up, confused and disoriented at the sudden intrusion.

"Get up," you said, crossing your arms.

"What?" He tried to blink himself awake, holding himself off the bed, flexing his strong arms, subtly cracking your resolve without trying to. In this moment, he was Embry again. Confused, tired, looking at you with sleep in his eyes.

And when he looked at you, a wave of calm ran over you. All the yelling you planned to do washed away, and it all seemed silly now, unimportant. Your heart was beating heavily, and you wanted to run to him. Wanted to kick him, and fight him and kiss him all at once.

Embry was still Embry, you could feel it. But why did he leave you?

"I missed you," you said, voice cracking as you tried to stay calm, unable to yell at him. Unable to find the anger you'd drove over here with.

He scrambled to get up, confusion leaving his face. And he was looking at you like he always did. His body was different, but his eyes, his eyes were his. You felt drawn to him, like gravity had shifted entirely, like you belonged in this room with him. Like you belonged beside him at all times.

"I missed you," he said, acting as if he'd never left. As if he'd never been missing. And everything suddenly felt normal again. Like there weren't any secrets. He came closer, hesitant. Slowly making his way across the small room, stopping just before you. "I've really, really missed you."

There was no reason for it, but tears welled in your eyes, running down your cheeks before you could stop it.

"Then why did you leave?"

"I didn't have a choice," he said, "but that's different now."

"Since when?"

"Since right now."

The tears kept falling, and no one moved. Embry looking down at you sadly, his heart aching at the sight of you crying. He wondered how many times you'd cried over him before today, how many nights you wondered where he is, or why he wouldn't call you back. You had been the hardest to leave behind, even more than his friends. Maybe there was a small part of his subconscious that always knew you two were meant for each other. Like his mind knew to just wait for this moment.

He was the first to make move, bringing his hand up to wipe some of the tears off your cheek.

"It wasn't fair," you sobbed, desperate to wrap yourself around him, but you resisted.

"I know," he said.

"I called."

"I know."

"You weren’t supposed to leave me like that."

"I know," he said again, brushing your hair behind your ears. His warm touch soothing you, making the tears stop. Bringing a sense of comfort you'd been missing for weeks. "Never again."

"Promise?"

"I promise." Embry held his hands against your cheek, his long fingers grazing the edges of your hair, holding you steady and softly, keeping his eyes locked on you. "I will never let you down again." He placed a soft kiss to your forehead. "My life is yours."

"Embry," you sighed softly, confused but leaning into the moment. It all felt right. Like you believed him, you knew he was sincere. You'd barely talked about anything but he wasn't lying to you, you knew that somehow. "Will you tell me why?"

"Yes," he answered. "Anything and everything, I'll explain it all."

"No secrets?"

"Not from you," he said, "I'll never keep anything from you again."

The two of you were still standing in his doorway. And you still wanted answers, today. But... in a minute.

Embry's heart raced as he looked down at you. His imprint, his girl. The one who's always had his heart. The one who he'd already loved. Without thinking, he leaned down to scoop you up. Picking you up like you weighed nothing at all, letting you wrap your legs around his waist, faces inches apart. And he just looked at you, eyes filled with love and devotion. Like you'd been apart for hours, not weeks.

And then you kissed him. You leaned into him and pressed your lips to his, feeling the softness you always dreamed about. It was beautiful, the way your mouths moved together slowly. Him following your lead, spreading his hands over your back and holding you as close to him as possible. Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, pressing your chest into his.

Nothing had ever felt more right than this. No moment ever as perfect.

He brought you to the bed, setting you down gently, barely ever breaking contact with his lips. And one of his hands moved back to your cheek, caressing the soft skin as he climbed on top of you, settling between your legs, pressing your bodies together like he belonged there. You moaned into him, inviting his tongue into mouth. It was slow and sensual, and took the time to learn what you liked, what your body reacted to.

Embry was the first to pull away, even though he didn't want to, but he had to stop. Didn't want to rush anything, take anything too far too soon. He'd never seen anyone so beautiful.

"I'm so sorry," he said kissing your nose, then your cheek, then right by your ear, making you moan and push your chest up into him. "I will be sorry for hurting you for as long as I live."

"I forgive you," you whispered, and it was like he was set free. Everything about today had set him free. Free to be with you, to tell you the full truth.

He'd never really left, watched over you and Quil. Checking in on you before and after his patrols. Making sure you got to work safe, and home again.

"Will you come see Quil again?" and you could tell by the guilty look on his face, that no, he wouldn't be able to. While things between the two of you were different now, the rift between friends have stayed the same.

"It's not like that," he said, "staying away is not something I want to do."

He rolled off of you, staying close to your side and pulling you into him, spooning you from behind and nuzzling his face into your neck. He'd never felt truly at home until this very minute.

Everything about you was home.

"I have a lot of stuff to tell you," he said. "And I'd like to get it out of the way so I can keep kissing you."

[skyscrapergods]

ik this blog is in a bit of a lull rn, so no pressure on answering, but I've perused thru most of the posts on worldbuilding for ssg and I didn't see this question asked: one of the main traits of humans that let us become the dominant sentient species is our opposable thumbs. ponies don't have those! and yes, unicorns can control and move things with magic but thats a difficult process to learn and not readily available to everyone. most worldbuilding I see for MLP tends to leave this question ambiguous behind the veil of cartoon logic. what are your thoughts? how do ponies maintain technological advancements and perform everyday tasks despite only being able to hold things with their mouths or (in some cases) horns? and what of writing and art?

Horses have extremely dexterous lips for ripping up grass. So they use their mouths WAY more than they do in the show. Fine motor skills are all done with the lips and teeth.

For bigger tasks, many earth ponies have horseshoes made of ferrous metal, and have magnets on items they need to interact with. Tea pots with magnetic handles, but the handles look like big disks for the shoe to fit in.

In the show, all these things are human-shaped for familiarity (and because designing for hoofed apex species is a lot of work). But in my world, things like door handles, light switches, buckets, sewing machines, typewriters, and such are all converted to large-surface hoof levers, mouth pull-strings, pressure plates, tooth-grips, etc

Here's a look at an environment that is built for someone with hooves and mouth rather than hands.

See how he doesn't struggle to operate human-centric machinery?

Meanwhile, creatures with hands will struggle in ponyville, when presented with something that is meant only to be bitten to operate.

Likewise, areas with mostly-unicorn populations have doors, buildings, devices, utensils, bookshelves, food, and everything else built for form rather than function, since they don't need to use their hooves and mouths for anything. Think a teapot with no handles at all. Nothing on the back, and nothing on the lid either except embellishments. No post that sticks up for hands or mouths to grab, just fancy markings. Unicorns can just lift that smooth lid out of the way and telekinetically hold the pot under the water. For this reason, isolated unicorns are often shocked and horrified to see ponies and pegasus use their hooves and mouths. A unicorn with a broken horn would be able to function in a pony world just fine, but is severely disabled in unicorn-only society. Though, they would still struggle when faces with devices that require horse-teeth, since unicorns, being deer, lack upper front teeth. Their hard dental pad is useful, but it is more delicate than teeth and can be injured by using pony devices.

Pegasus settlements use their mouths and hooves too, but have additional devices and adaptions mean to be operated with their wings. They have a highly developed alula, which is is the free-moving digit at the wrist of the wings.

A pegasus can grab and move things with it, but it's not as deft as their cloven hooves and prehensile dewclaws.

This is especially helpful since pegasus mouths are made of a lot of hardened cartilage with feathery skin over it. This helps them preen their feathers, but lowers dexterity.

Thankfully, most areas of Equestria have been adapted to all three species. Places of business, housing, devices, and commerce have pullies, hoofpads, soft mouth-grips, and such. Unicorns learn to use their bodies to operate things, or they train themselves to press the right area with magic to get results.

Twilight's school of friendship is the most inclusively-built area os equestria, with desks, writing utensils, and classrooms fit for a variety of hooves, hands, claws, mouths, and more. This breaks down a major barrier than has kept pony and non-pony creatures apart from each other. Hopefully the rest of equestria follows in her hoofsteps.

[koolades-world]

do you think we'd be together in every life?

volume one: everyday life; lucifer

in which you and your lover are brought together over and over again no matter the timeline, no matter the circumstances

"Lucifer, do you think we'd be together in every life?" You asked him.

"That's a silly question, my love. I'm sure of it." He responded.

...

You pulled up into the mostly empty parking lot in front of your work. You were excited for your first official day, despite having already spent a fair amount of time in your workspace, so you'd arrived early. A few others cars were sprinkled throughout the parking lot already. You gathered your bags, and headed into the building.

The first thing you did was drop everything off at your desk, and make sure you had everything you needed. Once that was set, you decided to head to the break room, and start the coffee pot for your coworkers.

The halls were empty, and most room lights were still off. While you were a bit too soon, that only gave yourself more time to prepare for the day. After all, elementary school started early, so you felt you should too. As a teacher, it was your duty.

When you entered the break room, it seemed as if someone had already been in there. The lights were on. A couple chairs were pulled out, and the coffee pot you'd intended to start was already ready. The fridge was also slightly ajar, so before you got yourself your morning coffee, you decided to shut it. What you weren't expecting, however, was to find a short, blond child staring up at you. He looked to be about eight or nine years old.

"Hi." You couldn't think of much else to say.

"Hello." He didn't move, but greeted you back.

"What are you doing in there?" You opened the door further to get a better look at him.

"It was too hot." He stated matter of factly. He glanced at you like you were interrupting something, and like he wanted nothing more than for you to leave him alone. You didn't know children could have a death glare that intense.

"It is warm in here." You nodded along with the child.

"My dad went to make it colder. He should be back soon." He picked up a random stick of butter that rested on a lower shelf of the fridge that had been in there for who knows how long, and looked at it. It seemed like he was doing everything he could to pretend you weren't there. You scrunched up your face, thinking. You believed the kid, but that didn't stop the situation from being odd.

"I'm back." The door to the break room opened, and you turned to meet the gaze of the most gorgeous man you'd ever seen in your life. He had dark hair, and intense red eyes. A pair of rectangular glasses sat on his nose, and wore a matching sweater vest. "Satan. Get out of the fridge." He sounded exasperated, but the young boy obeyed. He set the butter down back where he'd found it and shut the fridge door behind him.

"Hello! Nice to meet you. I assume this is your son?" You greeted the tall man happily.

"Yes. I'm sorry about him. I went to turn the AC on because he kept complaining about the heat." He let out a long sigh.

"I'm Mc, a new third grade teacher. This is my first day." You smiled pleasantly at him.

"Lucifer. Pleasure to be acquainted. I'm a junior high teacher. Seventh grade." He extended a hand to you. His nails were painted a messy, deep red. You took his hand, and shook it. His hands were freezing despite the room still being warm. "Satan. Introduce yourself. They're your teacher this year." Lucifer's words took you by surprise. He must've done his research.

"My name is Satan. My favorite animal is a cat, and my favorite color is green." He didn't move a muscle and stayed firmly planted beside his father.

"Satan..." Lucifer trailed off, tired.

"Well then, I'm Mx. Mc. I can't wait to get to know you this year! I love cats too. I have two at home." Satan's face lit up; a sharp contrast from the closed off kid you'd discovered in the fridge less than five minutes ago.

"Can I see pictures of them?" He stepped closer to you. his eyes sparkling.

"You can, but I left my phone in my classroom." You patted your pockets, realizing in your excitement, you'd left it in your bag.

"Dad. I'm going with them." The young boy less demanded, more stated a fact to his father.

"Are you alright with that? I'd hate to make you look after him for longer than you're supposed to." Lucifer asked.

"I don't mind at all! He can come pick his seat and help me do a little setting up." You were so excited that he'd warmed up to you. "Besides, it looks like you could use a break. You're much braver than me for handling middle school, and I imagine you need to time to prepare for the day, handsome." You patted his arm, and his tired expression morphed into one of surprise. He averted his eyes, seeming to want to look anywhere but your face, his ears tinged red.

"Thank you." He said. He picked up a cute little lunchbox and backpack from the corner of the room, and handed it to his son. "Have a good day. I'll see you this afternoon. I love you." He kissed the top of his head. Your heart melted at the affection he was showing Satan. Despite how exasperated he seemed with the boy, you could tell he loved him.

"Bye Dad." Satan's crooked smile was adorable. It was something you hadn't seen yet. He had a gap between his two front teeth that you would probably never forget.

"Ready?" You extended a hand to Satan.

"I'm ready to see pictures of your cats." Both you and Lucifer burst out laughing at his insistence. You waved to Lucifer, and he waved back. You looked forward to the end of the day, knowing you'd get to see him again.

The rest of the day flew by. Satan was very warm to you, but could've been nicer to his classmates. He almost made one boy cry, but he apologized, and seemed to become friends by the end of the day. Elementary ended before middle school, so you took it upon yourself to look after the boy until his dad was ready for him. You couldn't bring yourself to send him into a gaggle of middle schoolers.

So, when middle school finally let out, you gathered your things and walked Satan to Lucifer's classroom. Satan burst into the room, and hugged his dad. "Hi." Lucifer paused his cleaning up of the room.

"Before you ask, he was lovely to have as a student, and made some friends." You readjusted your bag on your shoulder.

"They have a black cat, and a gray cat." Rather than talk about his day, he told his dad about the conversation you'd had about your cats that morning. "We have to go meet them." Satan pointed at you.

"Satan, you can't just invite yourself over to other peoples home's." Lucifer, while he still seemed tired, sounded happy to be reunited with his child.

"I don't mind. If he does good in class, that is." You could tell he was a bright kid, and if that was the motivation he needed, you were more than happy to be that for him.

"I'll be the best then." Satan yelled. You began laughing again. You could already tell it was going to be a fun year.

"Then, it's a deal." You nodded. "Speaking of my cats, I need to get going home to them. I haven't left them alone for this long in a while."

"Bring new pictures of them tomorrow." His face was very serious, letting you know that he really wanted to see more of your cats.

"I can do that." You opened the door. "See you two then." You stepped out into the hall, but the door took it's time closing.

"We've talked about asking, rather then demanding things, bud." You heard Lucifer say.

"I'm doing you a favor. I'm helping you marry them." Satan stated that like it was common knowledge. Lucifer chocked on his words once he heard you laughing to yourself in the hallway. When the door finally shut itself, you could no longer hear the dynamic duo.

You gave what Satan said a little thought. You certainly wouldn't mind getting to know Lucifer better. While you knew not to get your hopes up, you had an odd feeling that you and that devilishly handsome man would get to know each other very well. You couldn't wait for tomorrow.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

The disparity between your Motley Crue section and GNR terrifies me, so as your seemingly one Nikki Sixx fan, I have come with a request.

Fluff.

I know, how terrible, how foul, how utterly depraved. But I almost never see fluff of this man & Jesus fuck does he deserve all the softness and comfort.

(I would not complain about smut, though seperately cause he is absolutely horrifically hot in the sense he's really pretty and sweet on the outside and then there's something dark swirling behind his eyes)

A/n: The difference is insane I get a little giggle out of it every time ngl

Warnings: Nikki cries but other than that it's fluff, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Nikki was a big name in a big city and craved attention, when you first started dating you didn't care, you still didn't really, but you did worry about him.

You tried getting him to open up more but it was pointless, he switched the topic or laughed it off. Eventually you gave up, when he was on stage he was having fun and when he was with you he was definitely having fun, but you just moved in together and it was new.

Nikki was used to being alone, he was always alone. He had his band, but once Motley got big there was no need sticking together all the time, and he grew up with his grandparents mostly but he was still relatively distant. Now you were around all the time, at shows, the bar, when he came home and when he left. That's not to say he hated it, he just wasn't used to it.

He came home one night after a show and dropped his stuff by the door, having planned to just crawl into bed but he saw you in the kitchen so he went there first. "What're you doing?" He asked, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You giggled when he kissed your cheek and returned it before speaking.

"Making dinner, why?" You asked, stirring the noodles in the pot. "Tired?" Nikki didn't respond, he was just stuck staring in the pot hugging you from behind. "Nikki?" You spoke again. When you didn't get a response you just left him, figuring he had had a long day or something of the sorts.

The radio was on in the background, Deep Purple came on. You weren't big on them but Nikki always liked them and you knew the song so you started humming along to it, swaying your hips as you did. Still no reaction from Nikki but he smile softly, you felt it against your neck as he watched you cook.

He got ingredients when you asked him to and helped with cleaning up as you went but if you didn't tell him to do something he was right behind you, giving you a squeeze here and there.

This felt different. Something was wrong. Very wrong. It's not that Nikki wasn't cuddly, per se, he definitely could be, something was just... wrong.

You sat down and ate, he said nothing. You finished cleaning up, nothing. Watching TV and getting ready for bed, still nothing, you even tempted him with lingerie but he barely batted an eye, only gave a wry chuckle and shook his head at you.

Nikki got into bed and laid down where he always did, head on his pillow, splayed out for you to cuddle up to. He stared at the ceiling while you stared at him, thinking for a moment.

Nikki looked to you, a brow raised in curiosity. "What're you doing?" He asked just as he had earlier.

You let out a heavy sigh and crossed your arms over your chest, resting your weight on one side. "You're acting weird." You stated. Nikki thought for a moment and then laid his head back, giving the spot next to him a small pat.

You did as he silently asked and got in, but you paused as you did. Instead of curling up against him you copied his position, didn't even use his arm as a pillow like you did every other night.

Nikki gave you a sideways look and waited for you to roll up into him, but you didn't. "Are you mad at me?" He asked finally, his voice much too soft for your liking. It was weird, all of it, nothing was normal. He could be sweet, sure, but this wasn't sweet soft, this was 'did I mess up again?' soft and you didn't like the look in his eyes.

"No, I'm not, of course I'm not mad at you." You said, reaching over to cup his face in your hand. "It's your turn to cuddle tonight." He raised a brow at you but seemed to understand pretty quick when you pulled him closer. Nikki was big and strong and happy with that so he was always the big spoon, if you were on the couch you were laying on top of him, it didn't matter the setting.

He let his head fall on your chest, your arms wrapping around him and rubbing his back. You tried to remember the tune of the song you were humming along to earlier and started again, letting him listen to it and your heartbeat, putting him to sleep.

Only he didn't sleep, you heard sniffles coming from him and quickly went to check on him. Nikki shook his head and pushed his face further into you, hiding. You wanted to push him on it, get him to tell you what was wrong so you could help but instead just let him cry into you while you held and comforted him until he finally fell asleep.

It's what he did for you, and you could be his pillow every now and then if it made him feel better.

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 2: CHARLES SMITH, THE MAN THAT YOU ARE 

synopsis: charles makes sure you're getting on okay as you continue to try to evade arthur (poorly, might i add).

word count: 3k

ships: Arthur Morgan/Modern!Reader, Van der Linde Gang & Reader

notes: i almost leaked this to my classmate when sending her a link. nearly shat myself but we're all good this is all still under wraps

TOSoA taglist: @one-green-frog (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask <3!!)

THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA MASTERLIST

Charles was right. Even though you want to help, there’s really nothing to do besides hunt – and the good Lord knows you’re useless when it comes to that.

For the last day or so, you’ve just been hanging around the garage-made-kitchen. Even though Javier told you you weren’t intruding (and that “everyone needs shelter”), you feel like you are. It’s not a good feeling. So you stayed outside, in the company of a man who introduced himself as Simon Pearson and the camp cook, Charles, and occasionally Javier when he found the time to swing by. 

A fair few people have introduced themselves as well – Hosea Matthews, Bill Williamson, Lenny Summers, Reverend Orville Swanson, Leopold Strauss (who just oozed sleaze), Miss Karen Jones, Miss Tilly Jackson, Miss Mary-Beth Gaskill, and little Jack alongside his mother, Miss Abigail Roberts. Those who didn’t directly introduce themselves to you were pointed out by Karen and you were given a run-down on them.

So far, these are the people as you know them: Missus Sadie Adler is a grieving, skittish widow. Uncle is a lazy sack of shit. John Marston is better at being wolf food than being a father. Miss Susan Grimshaw is stubborn (but caring – somewhat like how neighborhood mamas care). Miss Molly O’Shea has a stick so far up her ass she spits splinters when she talks. The man tied up in the barn, Kieran Duffy, is an O’Driscoll (or ex-O’Driscoll, if what he insists is true is really true). Oh – and the blond man that punched Bill? That’s Micah Bell: a man with the eye of a viper tasting the air and the nose of a shark waiting for blood in the water. From what you’ve deduced, his general vibe is “I would take sexual relationship advice from Bill Cosby if given the chance.”

All in all, a healthily diverse group of people – even if the traits that make them diverse aren’t all that desirable. (Mostly Micah’s. Especially Micah’s.)

But Charles is nice enough. So you’ve stuck with Charles. Even if you need to hang around Pearson to hang out with him. Pearson isn’t an intrinsically bad guy, just… a little off-putting.

Right now, you’re able to put your hands to use by opening canned vegetables and putting them in the cauldron-looking pot Pearson has for rabbit stew. Across the table, Charles is butchering and deboning a rabbit as best he can with his injured hand. You try your best to keep your eyes on the cans of carrots and celery you’re opening. 

There’s footsteps. You glance up. It’s Arthur. You look back down. 

“I can’t believe it’s come to this,” Pearson gripes to no one in particular. 

You watch Arthur approach the fire and he holds his hands out towards the coals in your peripheral vision. He shakes his head. “Ah, we’re okay.”

“We have a few cans of food and a rabbit. For, what – ten, twelve people?” Pearson gestures over to where you and Charles are working. “Even more with them and that widow.”

Despite yourself, you can feel the tips of your ears start to burn. What do you have to be embarrassed about? Needing to eat? If anything, Pearson should be the one feeling embarrassed for talking about you in front of you. Yeah… that’s it. 

Pearson continues. “When I was in the Navy…”

Arthur immediately interrupts him. “I – I do not wish to hear about what you got up to in the Navy, Mister Pearson.”

And yet, he keeps going despite Arthur’s protest. “We were stranded at sea… for fifty days.”

“And you, unfortunately, survived,” Arthur drawls. 

You glance up at him from underneath your eyelashes and smile. His eye catches yours, and your gaze drops, as does your smile. Instead, you work on getting your finger under the tab of a can of chopped onions – which is hard, considering the thickness of your gloves.

You feel Arthur’s eyes leave you and let out a soft sigh of relief that clouds in front of your face. Charles holds out his knife to you. You tip the top of the can towards him, and he wedges the (bloody – ew) blade of his knife underneath the tab and opens it. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. You clench your jaw when you feel Arthur’s eyes on you again – yes, very briefly, but still. You can count the number of times you’ve made eye contact with him on one hand, and you don’t want to add to that total. 

Thankfully, Pearson seems ignorant to your plight and continues complaining. “When we ran away from Blackwater, I wasn’t able to get supplies in!”

“Well, when government agents are hunting you down, sometimes shopping trips need to be cut short,” Arthur snaps. “We’ll survive. We always have. And if needs be, we can eat you – you’re the fattest.”

You bite your lip to suppress a laugh and clear your throat to mask any noise you might’ve made. You pour the onions in the pot and glance at the rabbit carcass, now carved up and stripped of meat.

“Damn, there’s nothing left on that thing,” you say. “You’re good at that.”

Charles nods in response. “If you’re done, you can put it on the fire.”

You lift the pot with a grunt – it’s heavier than you expected, but nothing you can’t handle. You move over to the coals and hang the pot on a hook over the fire while Pearson and Arthur continue talking. 

“I sent Lenny and Bill hunting, and they found nothing,” Pearson says. 

“Well, Lenny’s more into book learnin’ than huntin’,” Arthur says. You perk up at that. “Bill’s a fool. Unless those mountains are full of game that wanna read, ain’t no wonder they haven’t found –”

“Enough of this,” Charles interrupts. Even though his voice is relatively quiet and deep, it still cuts through whatever Arthur was planning on prattling on about. “We’ll go find something. Come on, Arthur.”

“Well, take them.” Arthur gestures vaguely in your direction. “Since they seem so keen on helpin’ out, and all.”

“I, um…” You shake your head. “No, thanks.”

“They don’t even know how to hold a rifle correctly,” Charles says. (His bluntness stings a little, but it’s true. You know how to hold a handgun, but not these old-timey types.) “If they knew how to hunt, we would’ve gone already.”

Arthur sighs and shrugs. “If you insist.”

“Wait a second, hold on.” Pearson hurries over to the table you and Charles had been working at earlier. He pulls out a can from the small pile you had organized and tosses it to Arthur. “You’re gonna need something to eat out there.”

“Hm… “assorted, salted offal”,” Arthur reads off the label. He levels Pearson with a dead stare. “Starving would be preferable.”

You stifle a laugh and, again, clear your throat.

“Come on, let’s go,” Charles says, adjusting the bandage on his hand. 

“You can’t go huntin’,” Arthur says. “Look at your hand.”

“I can’t stay here listening to you two,” Charles says. He gestures to you without looking at you. “The conversation they make is tolerable, but, again, they can’t hunt. Look, if there’s game in those hills, I’ll find it – and you can kill it.”

“You need to rest, Charles,” Arthur insists.

“You think this is rest?” Charles’ face twists into a scowl, then he turns and walks towards his horse with a “Come along.”

Arthur scoffs under his breath and his eyes flick to you. You do your best to suppress the temptation to duck away from his gaze, as piercing as it is. You win, and he looks away, following Charles to the hitching post. They quickly mount up and ride out.

You draw your shoulders up to your ears and shudder. When Pearson shoots you a questioning glance, you excuse it with “What? It’s cold.”

When a few seconds have passed, you roll your shoulders back. You settle down on the chair that’s inside the kitchen, just watching a few late, fat snowflakes fall outside.

After a good ten minutes of watching Pearson and playing with your hands, you figure he’ll be fine on his own and wander out along the footpaths in the snow. You find who you’re looking for quickly. 

Lenny gives you a polite nod as you stand across from him, the fire on the ground separating you two. He has a rifle – the sight of which doesn’t surprise you as much as it first did – and he settles the butt of the gun in the inner corner of his elbow. 

“You’re Lenny, right?” You try. 

“Yeah. And you’re…” Lenny gives your name. You nod in response.

“I just…” You clear your throat and bat away the embarrassment and anxiety that’s creeping up on you – something that always comes with approaching strangers. “Arthur mentioned that you like books. I, uh… I read, too. Sometimes.”

“Really?” Lenny says. “What kinda books have they got out in the Mojave?”

You look down at the fire and think, trying to come up with some excuse and build your backstory. “We don’t have a lot of books – I live in a pretty isolated part of the desert. But there’s traders, and they bring medical books, and a few storybooks. I like the medicine books they bring. You?”

Lenny seems to hesitate for a moment. “Poetry.”

“Poetry?” You hum. “Huh. Poems are nice.”

There’s a lapse in conversation. You don’t know how to fill it. You say the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Micah’s kinda a prick, right?” You blurt out. 

Your eyes snap up to Lenny’s face. He’s surprised, but his face quickly melts into a smile and he laughs. You feel the coil of anxiety in your stomach loosen. 

“Why, I didn’t expect you to come out and say it,” he says. “But your assessment is correct.”

“Yeah, sorry.” You laugh nervously, your eyes falling to the fire again. “I just get bad vibes from the guy.”

“Bad vibes?” Lenny echoes. 

The coil is tight again. You think for a moment. “Uh, yeah. One of the tribes I live with believes in, um… vibrational energy, that kinda thing. When you look at someone and you get a bad feeling without knowing them that well, they give you bad vibes.”

“Hold on,” Lenny says. “Vibrational energy?”

You nod and continue to pull things out of your ass and curse Lenny for being scholarly. “Yeah. Life… um, well. I don’t remember the explanation too well. But I remember White Bird – the Sorrows’ shaman – saying…”

You tilt your head and look to the side and think for a moment.  “He said, “All life is music – all music is rhythmic – all rhythm is life.” And that somehow relates to vibrations. I don’t know, you seem smart. Maybe you can understand what he was talking about.”

“Well, I don’t know what it means, but it sure sounds pretty,” Lenny says. 

“They’re good people,” you say. “Maybe you���d like to meet them someday – if you’re ever so far west you’re in the desert, I mean.”

Why the fuck did I say that?! You curse yourself in your head. They’re not real! The Dead Horses and the Sorrows and Joshua Graham and Daniel are all made up! They’re fictional characters –

“I don’t know, maybe,” Lenny says. “For now, it doesn’t seem like we’ll be goin’ that far.”

You hum and pretend to act disappointed while you fight the urge to crumple in on yourself in relief. “That’s a shame. I’m sure you’d like them. They’re interesting people, especially the Sorrows. Though, Joshua…”

You trail off as you check over your shoulder. Hoofbeats, you’re pretty sure. And you’re right – Arthur and Charles are riding back into camp, a dead, snow-dappled doe on the back of each horse.

“Brought some food back, boys,” Arthur calls.

They both hitch their horses at the post and hoist the limp does onto their shoulders, carrying them over to the kitchen. 

You look back at Lenny and jab a thumb over your shoulder at them. “Should we…?”

“I don’t think so,” Lenny says. “From what I seen, Arthur’s a butcher – a mean one, at that. I don’t think he’ll like it if his work’s disturbed.”

“That’s fair,” you hum. (Secretly, you want to thank Lenny profusely. You already know that Arthur’s a mean man – you don’t want to see him even meaner.)

You check over your shoulder again. From where you’re standing, you can see an old man has taken your seat in the kitchen, and you can hear Arthur giving him hell for whatever reason. What was his name again… Uncle, maybe?

Unfortunately, your staring caught Uncle’s eye. He beckons you over with a wave of his hand. You give Lenny a quiet, polite “See you later,” and head over, trudging through the thick layer of snow that’s settled on the ground.

“Yeah?” You nod at Uncle as soon as you step into the kitchen. You sidle up to the fire, warming yourself with the smoldering embers. 

“Thought it’d do Arthur some good to see the…” – Uncle waves you up-and-down – “…wonders some modernity will do you.”

“What? Modernity?” You repeat back. You tell yourself to calm down – you haven’t been found out. (Not yet.) “I’m far from modern.”

“Why, you’re perfectly modern!” Uncle says. 

“You don’t even know me.” You scoff and turn away. 

Your eyes catch Arthur wrapping wire around the back ankles of one of the doe corpses. He pulls it taut, then hooks both legs to the deer hoist. He lifts it with a grunt and puts the hoist on the hook sticking out of the wall. You avert your eyes before he turns around. 

“Well, I mean…” You shrug. “I guess I’m… sort of modern? But I don’t see any issue with what Arthur’s doing. He’s just hunting.”

Arthur’s eyes fly to you again when you say his name. You wish that the Spanish Flu had come sooner so you could wear a facemask to hide your pursed lips and clenched jaw. After a moment, he looks away.

“What a surprise,” Arthur drawls, “to find the camp rat loiterin’ around in the kitchen, chargin’ dimes for his thoughts.”

He pulls away from the deer hoist and walks over to the fire. He keeps a healthy distance, but you can still feel some sort of heat coming from him when he stands next to you. You guess a man that tall and broad would be a furnace in cold like this. 

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Uncle asks. “I feel we haven’t spoken for days.”

“I do my utmost to avoid you,” Arthur retorts.

Charles approaches the fire, standing on your other side. He gives you a small look that says “Ignore them. They can, and will, go on for hours like this.”

Uncle looks over at you and laughs. “He loves me, really. It’s his… sad way of showing affection.”

“I doubt that.”

“No, it isn’t.”

You and Arthur turn to look at each other. You hadn’t meant to speak over him, and from the kind of-surprised look he’s sending your way, you think he didn’t mean to speak over you, either. You nod, gesturing for him to continue.

“It isn’t.” He turns back to face Uncle and waves a hand. “Now shoot, get lost.”

“Well…” Uncle shrugs and stands. “See y’all later.”

Pearson swipes a bottle from Uncle as he steps out. He then looks over at one of the deer. “See you got on just fine.”

Arthur nods toward Charles’ direction. “Charles is a wonder.”

“Have a drink, my friends.” Pearson holds out the bottle across the fire. “Ya earned it.”

Arthur takes the bottle after you wave it away. He takes a swig and sputters, coughing. “Jesus!” His voice cracks. “What is that?”

He passes the bottle to Charles, who sniffs the rim and takes a tentative sip. 

“Navy rum, sir. It’s the only thing – the only thing!” Pearson laughs as Charles hands the bottle back. “Keeps you sane, it does.”

“Yes, seems to have done a treat on you.” Arthur glances at Charles and waves a hand in his general direction. “You go rest that hand, Charles.”

“I’ll be fine in a few days,” Charles says. 

He makes eye contact with you and nods towards the cabins, indicating for you to follow. You do so while listening to Arthur and Pearson talk about skinning the deer. (And you hide a smile when Arthur asks Pearson if he gets to skin him, too. He’s mean, but at least he’s funny with it.)

“You settling in okay?” Charles asks when you’re in a somewhat secluded area. It’s not all that isolated, but it’s out of earshot for most people.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Thanks. For… y’know. Not being a massive asshole about everything.”

“You’re lost,” he says. (You notice he leaves out the very obvious “and scared” he could’ve tacked on the end.) “And you need help. It would be cruel not to give it to you.”

Yeah, totally! You think to yourself. You’re literally one of the kindest people alive and I’m… what? A scumbag that’s taking advantage of you? Oh, it’s so sweet that you’re ignoring the blatant lies I’m throwing in your face! Thank you, Charles! Thanks a fucking million.

“Still. Thank you,” you say instead. “You could’ve easily kicked me out in the snow and left me to freeze.” 

“We could’ve.” Charles looks out at the horizon. The way he pauses almost makes you think he’s considering it. “But we didn’t.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. You didn’t.”

Apparently, he doesn’t feel the need to reassure you or continue the conversation at all. After a few moments, you awkwardly hook your thumb over your shoulder.

“I’m gonna, uh…” You nod. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see you later?”

Charles is still looking out at the treeline, looking at the way the snow weighs down the leafless trees and the way even the smallest sound could disrupt everything. 

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

[fictionalmenxyn]

Hiii, i see you mostly do rafe cameron fics but i came across your account under the evan buckley tag and saw you post asking for request. So i tought i would ask if you could do a fic where reader works with buck and during a night out with team he asks the reader to kiss to get a girl of his back.

But yeah that's all thank you in advance if you decide to do it

Of course!!! Still waiting for season eight over in the Uk 😭 also I’m gonna use Taylor as the girl sorry! Personally I don’t think they should’ve got together. They should’ve stayed friends, but that’s my opinion 😭

߷𝐎𝐤 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫߷

Pairing: Buck x firefighter!reader

Warnings: jealousy (not Buck), language and making out

߷߷߷

After a good shift, with an appearance on the news. The 118 decided to celebrate the hard day and once again saving those who needed your help.

So here you all are, you, dressed in a black dress. Revealing the small delicate slime tattoo on your back. With black heels. Sleek and casual for a bar. Not over or under doing it. It was a nicer bar that you all usually go to. So you all dressed a little fancier, not by much.

You sat with the team, a beer bottle in hand. You were in a conversation with Hen when you both hear Buck next to you “arh shit… she’s here…” you turned to look at him “who?” He answered “Taylor… we broke up a month ago, and here she is… waltzing in here… what are the odds?”

Hen joke “for you? Low… very low..” you both chuckled. Buck nudged your shoulder playfully “hey don’t agree with her!” Causing you to laugh more. Which that’s exactly what he intended.

He sipped his drink, then glanced to you. “So? How about a game of pool? I see one of the tables free?” You looked over and smiled. That’s what you’d do in your spare time at the station. Playing pool. You nodded “oh it’s on, Buckaroo!”

You placed your beer bottle on the table before getting up and heading over to the table.

Buck started to set up the balls in the plastic triangle. As you grab the cue sticks. You held one out to him. Feeling eyes on you, not in a good way…

You noticed Taylor’s eyes glued to you. You talked to Buck “she always like this?” Buck raised an eyebrow “like what?” You replied “her eyes haven’t left me since we started to set up pool, Buck..” he chuckled “oh she thinks we both have it for each other. That’s why she’d never let me go over your place for movie night while we were dating…” you gasped “that’s why?!” You were pissed. Controlling what Buck does?? That’s not on. At. All.

You broke the triangle of balls, then stand off the to side to let Buck have his go. The two of you went back and forth, taking turns.

Taylor never shifted her gaze since you started playing. You huffed, Buck joked “not gettin’ bored already? Thought you liked playing this?” You replied “I do, but not when she doesn’t take her eyes off of me. It’s borderline creepy, Buck…”

He hummed in agreement, “I got an idea…”

“Oh yeah?” “Yeah…”

He gestured you to come closer, you and Buck were close. Really close, that’s probably why Taylor was jealous. But everyone on the team knew you two didn’t see each other that way… not yet at least.

He whispered in your ear, “lemme pretend to show you how to hit a shot, then I’ll peck your cheek, yeah?” His voice a little more rasped at the lowering of his voice.

You smirked “oh it’s on…” you walk around the table a few times. Trying to find the right ball to try and pot. Your acting skills, flawless. Buck spoke “hey, lemme show you a trick…” he came up behind you.

You both lean over to pool table. The team subtly watching. Eddie and Chimney lapping this up like two school girls. Hen and Bobby rolling their eyes, knowing this is how you two are.

Buck whispered “lemme count to three, then I’ll kiss your cheek, okay?” You nodded. Then looked to the pool table again.

“Three… two… one…”

He helped you hit the cue to the ball. Then once it potted. He smiled then kissed your cheek “good job, Y/n/n!” You smiled. Then look to Taylor. She looked jealous. But not enough for your liking. She treated Buck wrong. Let’s show her how to treat him right.

You closed the gap between you to. Kissing him softly. Two seconds it took for him to acknowledge what was going on. Then he kissed back. More fiery than the kiss you just gave. But you happily matched his intention.

He held your jaw gently. His big hand holding your jaw like you’d melt away if he didn’t hold it. In the background you can hear Eddie whistle and Chimney clapping. You peak out of your one eye to see Taylor.

It was like someone had shot someone in front of her. The shock and rage sent through her, definitely showing through her facial expressions. You smirked and mumbled into the kiss “it’s working..” Buck smirked too “good, let’s keep going though…”

In the end Taylor downed her drink, storming out of the bar. Once Bobby saw she left. He went to call out to you both.

You both kept kissing, that’s until you hear Bobby “alright you pair. step away or get a room!” You both laugh as you pull away.

Buck joked “think the room is sounding like a good idea right now…” you smirked “me too, Buck… me too…”

Eddie said a little too loud “I win! Hand over the money Chim!”

You both look over “what?!” Chimney casually spoke “oh we were betting on this, see how long it took for you too to finally do something…”

You playfully roll your eyes “thanks, Team..”

߷߷߷

[heavens-crown]

And They Were Neighbors P.t2

{Master List}

prev / next

Warnings:18+ MDNI, eventual smut, angst, lots of flirty behavior

Robby groaned as he woke up uncomfortable as hell on his couch. Sitting up he tried to get the crick out of his neck thanks to the weird angle he was laying at. Checking his watch he saw it was 6pm, so he got up to make himself a pot of coffee. His sleep schedule was already destroyed and besides he was stuck on the night shift for the next month anyway. While the coffee brewed Robby opened up the windows to air the apartment out. When he did that he could hear someone talking.

“Woman, how the hell would I know if he’s single? We talked for a minute max, the most I got out of the conversation was that he works at the local trauma center.” It hit Robby then that it was his new neighbor talking. When he didn’t hear a response and instead heard her start laughing he realized she was most likely on a phone call. It took him a moment to realize what it was she had said and he had to fight the urge to stick his head out of the window to keep listening. Was she talking about him? As he pondered just who she could be talking about the coffee pot dinged indicating it was done. 

He shook himself out of his stupor and set about making himself a cup before he showered and changed out of his scrubs. Something compelled him to sit out on the balcony instead of at the dining table, though he wouldn’t admit that it was mostly him wanting to be nosy. It was rude to eavesdrop on private conversations especially when it was a new neighbor. Yet he found himself opening the balcony door. Stepping out onto the balcony he looked over and saw Delilah saying her goodbyes to the person on the phone. Looking up from the phone she smiled brightly when she saw Robby.

“Hey neighbor, I'm surprised to see you already. You looked dead on your feet earlier.” She comments. Taking a sip of the drink in her hand Robby chuckles and turns his patio chair to face her balcony.  

“Night shift will do that to you, thanks to so many years I've mastered the art of living off power naps and coffee.” Robby jokes. Delilah tips her head back to laugh. 

“Thankfully my job is sort of a ‘whenever you get it done’ type thing. Though that usually leads to me being awake at ungodly hours though.” She glances down at her phone as it dings before rolling her eyes and putting it back down. 

“What do you do for work?” He asks. She lights up at the question and pulls her chair closer to the railing so she doesn't have to shout. It's then Robby notices she’s now wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts that are criminally short. He has to fight the urge to look over the tattoos decorating her skin. 

“So I do a few things. My main gig is a contractor position doing Medical Coding which I've been doing now for five years. My side gig is art commissions.” She explained. Her being in the medical field was not what he was expecting, but he could see the art commission. 

“What kind of art do you typically do?” He asked. He watched as her face flushed a bit and her drink became the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Well it depends,” she starts. “Some people want pet portraits, family photos turned into paintings. Then there's the more original pieces people request.” He couldn’t help but think for a moment she looked adorable when flustered. Quickly he squashed the thought, she was his neighbor and probably a good twenty years younger than him. 

“What kind of original pieces?” He was genuinely curious at this point especially since she seemed so hesitant to elaborate.

“You promise you won’t judge?” At his affirming nod she fidgeted a bit with her drink. “Well like i said it varies from person to person, but the bulk of the original pieces has been monster lover work or authors wanting work for their romance books.” It took his brain a moment to comprehend just what the fuck monster lover art would be.

“Monster lover?” He finally asks because his brain is still not fully online. Still not looking him in the eye she elaborates.

“It's stuff like werewolves, cthulhu, centaurs, stuff like that.” She gives a delicate shrug and meets his eyes clearly trying not to laugh when she sees the bewildered look on his face. “There’s a whole book genre dedicated to it. My personal favorite was the dragon with two dicks.” Her casual comment blindsides him and he chokes on his coffee.

“Two dicks?” He manages to cough out. She laughs so hard he thinks she’s gonna topple over. When she goes to answer she begins laughing harder at the horrified look on his face. 

“Yes mister judgy. It’s a well written novel of a dragon falling in love with a human.” She giggles, wiping at the tears forming her eyes. 

Robby still can’t process why anyone would want that sort of art, or what it would even look like when Delilah breaks the silence. 

“Seeing as it's almost 7pm now would you like to join me for some pizza? Normally I'd be down to sit on a balcony and chill but it’s getting cold and I'd rather not freeze.” Blinking a bit at the sudden invite Robby takes a second to get himself to focus. Seeing his sudden silence she begins backtracking. “If you don’t want to, it's totally cool, i know you probably got better stuff to do and-” Robby cuts her off before she can finish. 

“Let me take a shower real fast and I can come over. I slept in these scrubs and I desperately need out of them.” She looks relieved at his answer and gets up to head inside. 

“What do you want on your pizza?” She asks. Stretching her arms above her head he’s momentarily caught off guard by the jewelry decorating her navel. 

“Anything except pineapple.”

Pizza is ordered and a frantic ‘help the hot neighbor is coming over what do i do’ text is fired off to Cherry. It’s a second later when Cherry begins calling. Picking it up on the first ring all Delilah hears is Cherry talking at full speed. 

“He’s actually coming over? What exactly happened? I need details woman.” Cherry demands. Taking a deep breath Delilah breaks down the conversation for her, not pausing when Cherry begins laughing her head off over the monster lover comment. 

“Cherry what the fuck was i thinking? Why would I invite him over, especially after telling him I draw porn for a living.” Delilah can feel herself spiraling a bit. Men as a rule never made her that nervous or unsure of herself. But talking to Robby? That made her so nervous she almost word vomitted every thought she had bouncing around her skull. 

“First off, calm down, you're making me anxious. Second, it’s not a bad thing to invite a man over, even if you think he’s hot. Especially if you think he’s hot,” Cherry chuckles to herself before continuing. “It’s not like it’s a date or anything. You’re just having dinner with your neighbor.” Cherry’s words release some of the tension gathering in her. She hadn’t hung out with a man solo since she met-

Delilah slammed a mental door on that train of thought. She refused to think about him and taint her mood. Cherry was right there was nothing wrong with having dinner with her neighbor who just so happened to be an attractive older man. 

“You’re right. I think I just panicked and overreacted.” Delilah isn’t sure if she’s talking more to Cherry or herself. 

She chats with Cherry for another five minutes before hanging up the phone. Just as she puts her phone down there's a knock at her door. She gave herself a internal pep talk just before opening the door and oh lord help her. 

Robby stands there in a simple t-shirt and gray sweats which hang off his hips in a way that makes her almost start drooling. Jesus she needs to get it together she just met the man and she’s drooling over him like he’s a piece of meat. 

“Pizza should be here shortly, do you want anything to drink?” She gestures for him to come in and shuts the door behind with a soft click. 

“Water if you don’t mind,” He smiles down at her, making her stomach twist a little. “Thank you for the invite by the way, I hadn’t thought as far as food when I woke up.” He follows her into the kitchen as she fetches him a bottle of water from her fridge. Handing it over she gestures for them to sit on the couch.

“It’s my pleasure, I grew up in a super tight neighborhood so i guess inviting people over at random is a product of that,” She watches as he makes himself comfortable, his thighs spreading a bit in a way that makes him take up a good amount of space to the point where she could easily touch him if she wanted. 

“What brought you to Pittsburgh?” He asks. 

With that time flies by for Delilah. The pizza arrived and is divided between the two of them. Conversation is easy and flowing between them that she doesn’t notice when she props her feet against his thigh while telling him about some of the dumb shit she would get up to with Cherry. She also doesn't notice when his hand loosely collars her ankle, his thumb rubbing circles against her skin. 

“Please tell me you don’t actually watch that shit.” He pleads. Delilah laughs at the look on his face.

“What's wrong with Grey's Anatomy?” She asks, trying hard to maintain an innocent tone. He sees right through her, shooting her a mock glare. 

“You know exactly what’s wrong with it, I'd rather go through medical school again than watch it.” Shaking his head at her, Robby snatches the remote from her hand. 

“Excuse you!” She exclaims with mock outrage. Robby simply laughs at her and starts flicking through movies.

“You can earn your remote privileges back if you apologize for watching that garbage TV show,” He says. Pouting a bit Delilah sits back with a huff crossing her arms over her chest. 

“It’s a good show,” She argues. He takes one look at her and snorts out a laugh. Even she can admit she’s acting like a toddler but in her defense he insulted one of her favorite shows. 

“Whatever you say Delilah,” Robby chuckles. A movie is picked and played, though neither of them pay much attention to busy bantering with one another. They settle into the couch to finish out the movie. When the movie ends and Delilah notices the time she feels a brief moment of panic.

“Oh shit it's like 2am, I'm so sorry to keep you here so long.” She half expects Robby to immediately make his exit but he doesn’t. He shrugs while taking a drink of his water.

“I didn’t even notice, remember I'm on night shift for the next month so late nights are my normal.” He says. She relaxes at that and then an idea strikes her. 

“I got a batch of cinnamon rolls proofing that’ll be ready to bake in the morning, would you like to come by and continue our little hang out?” Delilah holds her breath for a moment, thinking she overstepped. But then Robby smiles and squeezes her ankle reassuringly. 

“I would love that. I’m not gonna lie, sitting here with you has been the highlight of my week.” He admits, and Delilah tries so hard to ignore the fact that her heart skipped a beat. 

“It’s a date then,” She says.

[choerrysjubiles]

Nature's Delights

Pairing: Sungchan x fem!reader

Warning: smut! semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, near orgasm nonsense talk smh, um more cum eating bc I like writing that? Oh also consented picture taking :D

Wc: 2k

A/n: I think sungchan’s a dirty guy who’d fuck u in the dirt, so this is a slight upgrade from that <3

but as an actual warning my only camping credentials are watching camping vloggers so </3

Late spring-early summer, your favorite season. Feeling the winter warm up and the rainstorms move out, you loved the warm days and cool nights. You remember your parent’s taking you camping around this time of year, spending quick weekends setting up and enjoying nature, whether it was your backyard or in a forest clearing.

Feeling the weather warm up was always nostalgic to you, remembering the times you’d find squirrels and badgers, hiking around the area finding deer run past you. The smell of the earth sticking everywhere, thick green smells permeating the tent and clothing you brought.

You remember talking about this to Sungchan, feeling the smile stretch across your face as you talked about how much you loved camping and being surrounded by nature. He was so fascinated by your experiences camping, noticing how you still kept some smaller tents folded up in your place’s front closet. When he found some time off, the first thing he wanted to do was go camping with you.

Finding the right time, you and him packed a weekend’s worth of food and clothing before packing your car with the tools before finding a place to set up camp.

The area you lived in wasn’t much for the natural forest kind of camping, but you did find some camping grounds that were far more engulfed in nature compared to other dirt lots that passed as camping grounds.

The drive there wasn’t terrible, you remember spending almost all morning driving to a forest to camp during a summer in middle school.

Finding the lot you were given, you parked your car as you and Sungchan both got out. Walking to your trunk, you pulled out and began setting up the tent. It was a decent sized one, enough space for you two to sleep as well as some space for heater or table to set inside.

You connected the rods and joints before sliding them into the sleeves of your tent. Setting up the general shape, you began hammering the picks into the rocky ground. It took a good minute, but it was a far easier tent compared to the monstrosities your dad enjoyed buying.

Sungchan brought out the mini burners and sleeping bags, you grabbed at the small heater you brought, not wanting to freeze during the night.

As you set everything out, you and Sungchan sat on the sleeping bags, relaxing from the work. You forgot how much strength and endurance you need to set everything up.

“You did this your whole childhood?” He asked.

“Mostly my dad set things up, my mom and I usually did the decor type things. Heaters, pots and pans, sleeping bags, getting the clothing in an area. That stuff.”

“What else did you do?”

“We would walk around, not hike but enjoy the forests around, or we would check out the rivers.” You smiled at him, remembering the dear memories.

After a much needed break, you and Sungchan walked out of the tent to look around. The camping grounds were nice, while being smaller lots for a tent and car there was still plenty of greenery and distance from the city buildings to feel like you’re in nature. You went during a time not many were camping, making the immersion a little better.

You looked over at Sungchan to see him take a picture of you. Smiling you grabbed your phone, taking a quick picture of him.

“Hey you get pictures of me everyday!”

“Not in nature!” You laughed.

You and him walk around to find a small river by the convenience store on the lot. It wasn’t very large, a quick hop and you were on the other side. Taking your phone out, you were quick to snap some photos of Sungchan.

He caught you, grabbing onto your shoulders to pull you into a hug, grabbing his phone to take a photo of the two of you.

After a few pictures, you both made your way back to your camp. Sitting down as you looked around at the scenery, feeling that relief in your body of a much needed nature retreat. You walked over to the ice chest, grabbing a cold drink for you and Sungchan. You both sat, feeling relaxed as you both watched the small squirrels and birds move around in the trees and bushes.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

As the sun set and you felt full. Relaxing into the air mattress, you were indescribably happy. Finally feeling the nature you’ve missed for so long.

You laid beside Sungchan, moving close to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you.”

Thank you, I didn’t know camping was this fun.”

You smiled as he turned to wrap his arms around you. Kissing your forehead and cheeks before your lips. Slow, soft kissing as you relaxed. His lips still had a faint taste of the sweet marshmallows you ate earlier. Sungchan pulled you on top of him, kissing his cheek before relaxing your head down by the crook of his neck.

His hands were incredibly warm, almost feverish as he massaged along your back. You kissed along Sungchan’s neck and shoulder, able to smell the strong earthy scent on him.

His arms wrapped tighter around you, moving to kiss your cheek as he breathed a little heavier. Capturing your lips, he slowed down, incredibly so. A long, drawn out kiss before detaching.

“You’re driving me crazy right now.”

“What am I doing?” You ask.

“Everything.”

He leaned back in, deeply yet softly kissing your lips. You could feel his hips grind into yours. His hands moving to your hips as yours moved to his shoulders, feeling down his chest and up his neck.

He turned the two of you, almost caging you under him, as he deepened your kiss further. Licking his tongue along your mouth and across your tongue.

Pulling away, you asked, “You didn’t bring condoms, did you?”

“No.” He was gasping for air.

“I’m still on the pill, if that’s-”

He leaned back in, dragging his tongue along your mouth. Feeling as much as he could while grinding into your core.

“Are the- are the windows closed?” You ask.

Sungchan looked around, “The tent’s all closed up.”

He grasped onto your shoulders, thumbs massaging along your collarbones and neck while he continues kissing you. Your hands move up and down his torso, feeling the muscles hidden beneath his oversized shirt.

He moved his hand down to start riding up your shirt, you began doing the same. Sitting up, you both pull them up before tossing them onto the foot of the bed. His mouth latches onto your neck, licking and biting onto the sensitive skin.

Moving down, he licked down your torso. Biting and sucking onto the flesh above your bra and you unclasped it. Lightly sucking onto your nipple before moving down to the waistband of your bottoms. Taking them off, he cupped your pussy, feeling the wet spot that was still growing.

You were half laying, staring down at Sungchan as he leaned down and bite onto the fabric of your panties. Dragging it down with his teeth before pulling them down your legs. Pulling your legs open, he looked up at you, drinking in the look of arousal you had.

Leaning in, Sungchan slurped up your cum before moving up to your clit. Tongue flat, drooping out of his mouth and he pushed it against the muscle. Feeling your hips buck and stutter as he held you still. He flicked at it quickly before moving down to lap his tongue across your entrance, nose bumping against your clit lightly.

“Sungchan.” You moaned.

He looked up at you, feeling so hard and restricted in his pants. Pulling them off, he moved his penis to your core, tapping his head against your clit.

“Fuck me.” You whine.

“You want me to fuck you?” He leaned closer, hovering over your breasts.

“Please fuck me.”

He rubbed his length across your folds, wetting his dick with your arousal.

“Of course.” He leaned up and kisses your lips.

He fluidly pushed into you, all the way to his hilt. You gasp, feeling him slide in so quickly. He stayed still, wanting you to become comfortable but also to tease you. After some time you give him the okay, but he stayed still a little longer.

Seeing your mouth still hung open, his hand cupped your cheek, his eyes staring at your lips as his thumb dragged against your bottom lip.

“Please, Channie.” You gasp.

His eyes flicked up at you, “Please? You need to time to adjust.”

“I need to feel you.” Your hands feel against his stomach, wrapping around his hip bones.

“Feel me do what?”

“Feel you fuck me, please.” You whine.

“Like this?”

He begins thrusting into you, not pulling out far but hitting the deeper parts of your pussy.

“Yes!”

“Just like that? Or like this?”

He pulls half way out before thrusting back into you. His pace is too quick to form any sentence, feeling his dick stretch you out and pound into you was too good.

“Keep going.”

Your eyes fell shut, head falling to your side as you were overcome with pleasure. Sungchan leaned down, hips melodically crashing into yours. He held onto your head, loving how fucked out you were already. He leaned his weight onto one elbow as his left hand moved down to rub your clit.

“Channie.” You whined, wide eyes staring into his.

“Feel good?”

“So fucking good.” Your eyes continued falling shut, too overwhelmed by his movements to keep them open.

Sungchan continued pumping into you, feeling your bare walls was becoming addicting. He never got this often, usually only on special dates like his birthday or valentine’s day. But right now was so good. Feeling your walls squeeze and drip out both of your cum.

Looking down, he was obsessed with how far his dick was hitting into you. Staring down at your pussy swallowing every inch he had, stretching around his thick girth. The sight so overwhelming within seconds he was pounding harder than ever, soft moans escaping him as he was desperate to cum.

He looked back at your face, eyebrows furrowed as you were sighing and panting at the pressure building in your core. He leaned down, kissing your lips as he went even faster. His hand held onto your thigh to stretch you farther, a louder wet sound now audible in your tent.

Sungchan’s head fell into your neck as he rubbed your clit harder, feeling his orgasm get close.

“I’m gonna cum.” He groaned.

“Cum in me.” You say, eyes half open.

“In you?” He looks down, feeling his dick begin spilling cum.

“Fuck, fill me, Channie.”

His right hand held onto your hip, feeling you clench tightly around him as he pumped his cum into your pussy. His drawn out moan and fingers still rubbing into your clit made you climb over the edge. Feeling weightless as your sweaty body burned before going cold. Your pussy clamped around Sungchan’s dick as he held himself deep into your core.

The air was stuffy, feeling cold as you were both fighting for breath. The back of your knees felt sweaty as you slowly moved your limbs. Sungchan pulled out, seeing the thick, white cum drip out of your pussy. He was staring at your pussy, obsessed with the sight of your stuffed cunt.

“Did you wanna take a picture.” You joke.

“Can I?”

You barely gave it a thought, “Sure.”

Sungchan searched for his phone while you continued catching your breath. You saw him take a photo of your dripping pussy before he leaned in and took a lick at the cum.

“We taste great.”

You laugh, feeling him drink more of the cum dripping out of you.

Moving away, he grabbed at one of the sleeping bags, pulling you both into it.

“I’m sure you’re tired.” He wrapped his arms around you, caging you into his chest.

“I’m pretty sleepy.” You say.

“So if we sleep naked could we possibly wake up and-”

“Worry about that in the morning.”

You shift a little before relaxing against the mattress, feeling yourself fall asleep.

[mixelation]

have some reborn au. tori's second chunin exams arc

i think i've posted some of this before, and some of it i..... don't think i have? the beginning i'm like 90% sure i posted, so don't just skip the whole post if it seems familiar.

there's a [...] where there's missing scenes. also i think the reason i never posted sections of this are i didn't like certain details or wanted a few scenes to be better. however i'm in a Posting Mood

xXx

Tori was having a problem. Several problems, actually. 

“I’m not even allowed to submit a proposal without some idiot chunin co-signing,” she complained, pacing back and forth in front of Deidara. He was seated on his bed, rubbing ointment into the pink patches of his feet and legs that his medic hadn’t quite healed all the way. 

Deidara had… set a field on fire, or something, on his mission. Whatever. Kushina-sensei had gently hinted at Tori that she should go over and make sure he didn’t need help cooking or cleaning, as while Konoha hospital could fix up most things, Deidara had still landed himself three weeks leave with foot injuries. 

Obviously, Deidara had yelled at her and set a clay flea off in her face for even hinting he might need help. Convincing him to let her ladle the big pot of her mediocre curry soup she’d lugged over into his own tupperware had been a whole ordeal filled with yelling and a couple minor explosions. But once she had that out of the way and a bunch of tupperwares in his fridge, she was taking his presence in town as an excuse to rant about her own problems in her new lab assignment.

“My new supervisor wants me on dish duty,” she went on, gesturing furiously with both hands. “I know every piece of research fuinjutsu better than anyone there, and I get dish duty? I wouldn’t mind cleaning my own dishes, or if everyone was cleaning dishes, but my ideas for projects just get ignored. Who cares that I’m a genin? I have more experience than any of the chunin in that lab.”

She’d complained to higher management and attempted to get reassigned, but it seemed she was being ignored. She was afraid she’d have to go through Kushina to get facetime with the Hokage. She didn’t want to play nepotism; she wanted to earn this herself. 

Deidara looked at her like she was stupid. 

“If it’s a rank problem,” he said, “then just go get promoted to chunin, yeah.”

Tori stared back at him, flummoxed. This idea hadn’t occurred to her. She was quite confident she could handle any task any chunin might encounter in a lab. She was reasonably certain she could perform better than some of the jounin in a lab, even, especially if she got to head her own projects in her own specialties. But… chunin were meant to lead missions. They had to be able to fight things, had to know some set number of jutsu, had to have all the rules and ordinances memorized. 

“Do you think I’m qualified?” Tori wondered out loud. 

She really only had a grab bag of jutsu under her belt, the product of only bothering to learn things that interested her. Her combat skills mostly revolved around hitting things with a stick, or irreversibly destroying flesh in an extremely slipshod way. It seemed like a vast overestimation that she might be qualified for a promotion. 

Deidara managed to look even more unimpressed with her. 

“What the hell do you think chunin are?” he asked. 

“Squadron leaders?” Tori tried. 

“Not the baby ones,” Deidara told her. “Anyone with two brain cells to rub together can make chunin. The only reason you’re not already promoted is that Iwa is filled with assholes, yeah.”

This seemed… wrong, somehow. She’d mostly just gotten as far as she did in the Iwa exam by relying on others. But, maybe, she could swing an internal promotion? 

Tori went and looked up the official minimum qualifications for chunin promotion. She did qualify, it seemed. Apparently you only needed the Academy three ninjutsu to make chunin, although more were recommended. And maybe she should review all these rules and internal structures she was supposed to know… 

The minimum mission requirement was also only one C-rank, which seemed too low. It also seemed like her various higher ranking missions maybe shouldn’t count. The Iwa fiasco had mostly just been her playing side-kick, up until she basically just lied through her teeth for a very stressful few hours. The Sasori fiasco wasn’t exactly a shining moment for her either. It all really depended on her being on a team with a bunch of monsters rather than her own talents, honestly. 

Oh well. It wouldn’t hurt to try, she supposed. It wasn’t like the Hokage’s office didn’t know exactly who she was and the details of her on-paper accomplishments. 

She filled out a form for promotion-by-mission and turned it in. Two days later she was called into the Hokage’s office. Minato was literally eating a sandwich while he talked to her, apparently on his lunch break. 

“Right,” Minato said, swallowing. He picked her application off a pile of papers and slid it across his desk to her. “I’m not approving this.”

“Okay,” Tori said, having expected as much. 

“Because I want you to go to the next exam,” he continued. “It’s in Kiri.”

“Oh,” Tori replied, surprised. So she’d have to prove her qualifications? Annoying. 

“I think you should aim to win the tournament,” Minato said through another mouthful of sandwich. “Make it flashy. It’ll be a good showing for Konoha.”

“Wait—” Tori started. “I’m not—”

“I’m going to okay you to reduce lab hours if you feel like you need training,” Minato continued, unperturbed by the madness he was spitting. He passed another, stamped form across the desk for her, brushing sandwich crumbs off of it. “You have six weeks. Kushina said she’d register you. Let me know if you need anything.”

He dismissed her. Tori wandered out of his office gripping her exemption paperwork in both hands. Less lab time was the opposite of what she wanted!

Deidara laughed at her when she reported what happened. There was, she noted, empty curry-stained tupperware in his sink. 

“I can’t win the tournament,” Tori bemoaned as he snickered. She was really more of a “promoted due to clever thinking” type of kunoichi. “Make it flashy? What is he thinking?”

“Probably that most genin actually just suck, yeah,” Deidara told her. “Do you think Kushina-sensei could convince him to let me go to the tournament?”

Apparently the idea of watching her fight was deeply funny to Deidara. He talked for a very long time about wanting to see her panic and melt a small child into goo in front of all their friends and family. Tori buried her face in her hands. 

“Oh, then you’d get a pay raise,” Deidara said, eyes suddenly brightening. “We could move somewhere better, yeah.”

“Deidaraaa,” she whined. 

xXx

The lab sink was already filled with dirty test tubes in the morning. The new chunin had mislabeled several samples the day before, and now the experiment was ruined, and Tori was in charge of clean-up. Tori listened to the chunin explain this, glaring at the sink. 

“So I’ll be setting it up again while you clean,” the chunin said. 

It wasn’t that Tori thought she’d never mislabel something. It was that she had enough experience to know to double-check, and if she managed to screw it up anyway, she’d clean up her own fuck-ups. 

Plus, everyone had ignored that she’d pointed out their control for this experiment made no sense. There was a huge risk that whatever results they got, if this chunin could get it to work at all, would be totally uninterpretable. 

“Actually, I have an exemption,” Tori told the chunin. “I just came in to say I’ll be out for a while.”

She fled the lab. Kushina’s office door was always open. 

“Oh!” Kushina said when Tori knocked. “You’re getting started on training earlier than I thought. Donut?”

She had a small box of donut holes she pushed at Tori. Kushina always had snacks on hand, because she liked bribing people into see her in person. 

“I talked it over with Minato,” Kushina said, twirling a pen in her fingers as she spoke. “Basically, we think it’d be a good PR move if you sort of showed off that Konoha is basically the best at fuuinjutsu.” 

“Okay,” Tori said. She could do that, at least… probably. 

“You weren’t really flashy with it in the Iwa tournament,” Kushina continued. “So we’ll have to come up with something. Maybe you can work on giving some speeches about how your jutsu works like some weirdos do. Oh, but don’t show off you can use nonhuman chakra; we don’t want that getting out until it has to.” Kushina frowned slightly. “And I guess you shouldn’t melt any other genin. That’d be bad for international relations.”

“Okay,” Tori repeated. That just severely limited her combat capabilities. “Um, Hokage-sama told me to… win the tournament?”

She waited for Kushina to say Minato was being ridiculous. Instead she beamed and said, “Well, of course! I want my team to be three-for-three, you know!”

Kushina then made her take the rest of the box of donuts and shooed her out of the office, with a promise they’d make a training schedule. 

“It’ll only be like twice a week,” Kushina said as Tori gathered up her bag. “Don’t want to distract you from the lab!”

“But,” Tori started. She needed… more than that, if she was even going to pass, let alone win a tournament. 

“Bye!” Kushina replied. 

Tori walked out of Hokage Tower feeling completely unsure of what to do. She could go… think about combat fuuinjutsu? Except, she’d moved most of her materials to her desk in R&D in a bid for separate work and personal time, and she did not want to go back there right now. 

Well, she knew Deidara was in town and not doing anything. She went and asked him if he wanted to train. 

Deidara took at her in deep distrust. “Who are you and what did you do with Tori?”

“Come on,” Tori whined. “I brought you donuts.”

Deidara was walking with a slight limp, but he did accept the rest of the donut holes and then shuffled out the door.

“We can use my grounds, yeah,” he said, still sounding suspicious that she wanted to train at all. 

Deidara had his own assigned training ground, out in a field away from anything else. It was filled with half-made sculptures covered in tarp that Tori had decorated in fuuinjutsu herself, to reduce the chance of random explosions. 

The field was also completely riddled with potholes, blown into the ground by Deidara’s various experiments. Deidara wasn’t exactly quick on his feet right now, but he did spend the rest of the morning attempting to shove Tori into various holes and then close them over her, making fun of her the entire time. 

So probably she was improving at… something. Getting out of death traps, maybe. 

Kushina, at least, did get back to her with a schedule fairly quickly. Kushina had blocked off some time in the afternoons on Mondays and Thursdays, and gone ahead and made training ground reservations. 

“Do you have anything you want to do?” Kushina asked while she tied her hair up in preparation for what Tori assumed was two hours of kicking Tori’s ass. 

“I mean, I can come up with something,” Tori said. Then she added slowly, “But I’m not sure it would be… flashy.”

“Nah, flashy isn’t really your style,” Kushina agreed. “I figured I’d just give you something from the ol’ vault.”

“‘The vault’?” Tori repeated. 

“An Uzushio technique,” Kushina clarified. 

“But isn’t that…” Tori started, and then was unsure how to finish her sentence. 

The Konoha school of fuuinjutsu— which was ultimately closest to what Tori had ended up teaching herself, since her main instructor at the very beginning of her convoluted journey was Orochimaru— was the most similar amongst shinobi villages to traditional Uzushio practices, due to generations of intellectual trade between Uzushio and various Fire Country shinobi clans, especially the Senju. 

Konoha fuuinjutsu and Uzushio fuuinjutsu weren’t synonymous though. A lot of Uzushio practices had been completely lost. Kushina had immigrated to Konoha with an entire trunk of scrolls, and one of her long term projects as Konoha’s head of fuuinjutsu was hunting down and recovering Uzushio techniques for preservation. These techniques were highly prized and rarely taught even to Konoha ninja, and Tori was barely even Konoha. 

“Isn’t that like… for your family?” Tori asked. 

Kushina frowned down at her. 

“What are you talking about?” she said. “You’re my student. Of course I’m teaching you my techniques.”

Kushina did proceed to kick Tori’s ass for the next two hours, except instead of just hitting things at her, Kushina threw in some “what do you think of THIS technique?” moves. The training ground ended up completely ripped to shreds. Afterwards, Kushina lined up a bunch of scrolls containing the techniques which had nearly just murdered Tori and went over the pros and cons. 

“I want something more subtle,” Tori said, clutching her bruised ribs, because what the fuck?

“No,” Kushina chided, “it has to be big and flashy, you know! We went over this!”

Tori was assigned a scroll and sent off to study it. 

xXx

Tori attempted to demonstrate it for Deidara. She dropped the sealing paper into a bucket of water. The water inside twisted into gentle swirls. 

“Uh huh,” Deidara said, unimpressed. He held out a hand and a clay water strider hopped onto the water’s surface. It zipped around, not the least bit disturbed by the slowly moving water. 

Tori frowned and made a hand sign, attempting to add more chakra to the seal. The water picked up slightly. The clay bug was still unperturbed. 

“A whirlpool, you said?” Deidara said, a mean smile pulling at the corners of his lips. 

“Shut up,” Tori replied. 

xXx

[...]

xXx

The problem with doing anything with Kushina was that there was a small but very real chance the Hokage would just be there. 

Tori had expected to speak to him. He was their ride to and from the beach. She assumed the necessity of his presence was why she was meeting Kushina at her house and not some more central location. Tori had also assumed that Minato’s presence would be temporary. 

Instead, Minato was in swim trunks and holding a large straw bag. Naruto was behind him, also in swim trunks, swinging a shovel around like some sort of weapon and making whooshing noises with his mouth. 

“Uh,” Tori said. 

“Don’t mind them,” Kushina replied. She was also dressed for the beach, in a mesh dress over a one piece. A pair of sunglasses sat on top of her head. She held a second straw bag in her hands. “They’ll just be hanging out.”

“But…” the protest died on Tori’s lips. It was an extreme act of favoritism for her to get to go to a beach for training for a day. It would be rude to complain that Minato and Naruto also wanted to hang out with Kushina. “Okay.”

The beach Minato teleported them to was on an island, out in the middle of nowhere off the southern coast of Fire Country. Unlike a lot of his Hiraishin markers, this one was not here as the result of a war mission, because this place had seen no fighting. 

The marker he took them to was in an old outpost building on the eastern most point of the island, left over from generations ago during the warring clans ers, when there was fear of an attack from the sea in this area. But since Konoha had unified all the ninja in Fire Country, all the in-fighting had halted. The only true risk of attack came from Water Country, and there were more and better placed outposts to monitor their waters. This building was abandoned and basically falling apart, and only good for providing shade. 

“Remember when your dad abandoned us here,” Kushina was saying to Naruto, tone humorous, “and it stormed, and we had to hide inside for hours?”

“Oooh yeah,” Naruto nodded knowingly, “because he had an ‘emergency meeting’ about something dumb, and he said he’d come right back, but then he didn’t.”

“The fruit vendors’ union was in a state of extreme duress,” Kushina said solemnly. 

“They’re never going to let me live that one down,” Minato said to Tori with a good humored smile. 

Kushina led them down the beach and around to the side of the island that faced the mainland. There were barely any waves on this side of the island, and the tide was far in enough that there was only a thin strip of white sand between the water and the tree line. Naruto kicked joyfully in the shallow water, running ahead and then running back. 

They hung their stuff in the trees, with Kushina pulling out a belt of scrolls and strapping it around her waist. 

“Is Mom going to do something cool?” Naruto said, vibrating in place. 

“We can watch,” Minato said, squatting next to him. “Here.”

Naruto climbed onto his back, giggling as he went. 

Oh god, I’m their entertainment, Tori thought. She did not, actually, want the Hokage to watch her embarrass herself. She didn’t even want a ten year old kid to watch her. 

(Maybe she especially didn’t want the ten year old kid watching her? Little kids could be mean and judgemental, and Minato had taught Obito. He’d definitely seen more embarrassing stuff than whatever Tori was about to fail at.)

They walked out over the water. It was shallow for a long while, and the water was clear enough that Tori could see all sorts of big rocks waiting to appear when the tide went out. When they reached deeper water, the water beneath them suddenly went dark. 

“Don’t like that,” Naruto said, squinting down at it. It was kind of spooky, Tori privately agreed. 

Kushina motioned for them to stop, then walked out further by herself. Then she turned to them and pulled a scroll from her belt. 

“Okay!” she called. “Get ready!”

She then bounded backwards, putting even more distance between them, and tossed the scroll out from herself. It unrolled at her feet and across the surface of the water, and then ink rapidly crawled out from it. Tori squinted at it. It looked like the lines of characters crawled out from the scroll and then sank into the water. 

There was maybe a thirty second delay between Kushina unrolling the scroll and then the water in front of them suddenly moving. It swept sideways, and then grew in velocity such that both Tori and Minato had to leap back to avoid being swept away. The giant whirlpool’s center dipped down into the water. If they’d started off closer to Kushina, Tori wasn’t sure she would have been able to escape being sucked in. If Tori hadn’t known exactly what was going to happen and not been warned, she probably wouldn’t have expected the attack to have this sort of range and not backed off quick enough. 

“Whoa!” Naruto cried. “Mom’s so cool!”

“Right?” Minato replied. 

Kushina skirted the edge of the whirlpool back to them.  

“Ta-da!” she said, throwing her hands in the air. She had to pitch her voice loud over the sound of the water. “These used to be all around Uzushio, to keep people out. And we used to use little ones to fish. But I don’t see why you couldn’t use it for that very flashy attack you want, Tori, right?”

Tori hadn’t actually wanted a flashy attack, but she didn’t point that out with the guy who ordered her to be flashy standing right there. 

“You’re going to use that in a fight?” Naruto asked, peering down at Tori from his perch on his father’s back. “I thought you were the lame one on your team.”

“Naruto,” Kushina scolded immediately. 

“That’s the plan,” Tori told Naruto, unperturbed. “I’m supposed to convince everyone I’m cool.”

“I thought you were just going to win the tournament,” Naruto said. “Everyone would think you’re cool if you won.”

Oh god, what has Kushina-sensei been saying about me? Tori wondered. Outloud, she said, “Sometimes the goal of a fight isn’t to win.”

“Really?” Naruto asked, wrinkling his nose like this was perplexing. He aimed his question at the back of Minato’s head rather than Tori. 

“She’s right,” Minato said. “You and I can talk about it more when we go make a sand castle.”

“She is going to win though, you know,” Kushina said, hands on hips. 

“Just keep in mind the goal is to show off fuuinjutsu,” Minato said, turning to Tori. “You want the audience to see what you’re doing. Don’t be sneaky.”

“What?” Tori said. She pointed at the whirlpool. “That took like half a minute to activate. How am I supposed to use it without being sneaky?”

“Thirty seconds is pretty fast for a genin,” Minato said. 

Tori chewed her lip, unsure how to answer. So he thought she’d be even slower? How did pointing that out help her?

“It would also be good for PR if you seemed…” Minato arranged Naruto on his back awkwardly. “I don’t know, peppy?”

“Peppy?” Kushina repeated with a barking laugh. 

“I don’t know, what makes people want to hire a teenaged girl?” Minato asked. 

“Coolness,” Naruto said immediately. 

“Oh, you think she should be cute?” Kushina said, frowning slightly. She tapped her chin. “Tori, you can be charming for a couple hours, right?”

“No?” Tori tried, voice cracking. Well, probably if she was playing off a specific person. But she had no idea how to charm a whole audience and then also do all this crazy combat stuff at the same time. 

“I’m sure you can manage,” Minato said, smiling at her with more confidence than his opinion deserved. “C’mon, Naruto, let’s go play.”

He left. Tori watched them, and when they were back at the beach, she asked:

“Did you give Deidara this many caveats?”

“Hm?” Kushina said. “No, of course not. You think Deidara could be anything but a screaming maniac in a fight? We just told him not to kill anyone and figured the explosions would make anyone want to hire him.”

Wow, Tori thought as Kushina turned to deactivate her whirlpool. I can’t believe marketability is this important to being a ninja. 

Tori spent the rest of the morning squatting on the water with scrolls in her lap, making seals for whirlpools while Kushina stood over her with arms crossed. The seal required a certain amount of chakra manipulation from the user, which wasn’t the way Tori liked to design her own seals, and her misunderstanding of this was what had been causing her problems. It took several tries to get an actual whirlpool. 

It was… very small, only the size of her palm. It was almost cute. 

“Well, it worked,” Tori deadpanned. “Could I catch fish in it?”

“Absolutely not,” Kushina said, but her tone was good-humored. “You definitely got the jutsu down though; good job. You just need to put in more chakra to make it bigger.”

“More chakra?” Tori asked, peering up at Kushina. She did a few calculations in her head. If the amount of chakra was proportional to the size of the whirlpool… “I’m not sure I even have enough chakra to make a whirlpool as big as yours.”

“Eh, you probably won’t even have that much water,” Kushina said dismissively. “Do it again, and we’ll see how big you can make it.”

Tori went back to the shore for lunch feeling deeply dissatisfied and weak-limbed from chakra loss. Naruto ran over to them the second Kushina’s foot hit the shore, Minato following him.

“It’s not a big deal,” Kushina said as she unpacked their food. “Lots of jutsu have high chakra costs, and shinobi deal with that everyday. Minato, how many times can you use rasengan in one fight?”

Presumably because the limitations of a Hokage’s signature jutsu were state secrets, Minato took a long chug of water instead of answering. 

“I don’t like it,” Tori muttered, accepting a bento box. “It doesn’t feel… safe. I’d rather use algae chakra or something.” 

“Okay, this isn’t going to be life or death, you know,” Kushina said. “This is a perfectly safe opportunity to get comfortable with risk assessment for when you can or should use a chakra-heavy technique or not.” 

“She’s right,” Minato agreed. “Our relations with Kiri are good. This isn’t going to be like your other exam. No one’s going to try and kill you.” 

I don’t think that’s true, Tori thought. People were always trying to kill her. It was part of her charm. 

“Are you worried about pushing through a fight low on chakra?” Kushina asked, settling down on a beach towel with her own lunch. Naruto plopped down next to her, immediately getting sand all over the towel. 

“No, I’m confident I can handle that,” Tori said. She didn’t favor chakra-heavy techniques, but she’d definitely fucked up a lot of jutsu experiments and spent way more chakra than she meant, and being in Oto ment sometimes you just had to do a task post losing all your chakra to an experiment. 

“Good,” Kushina said, nodding to herself. “Because I know you’ve been sparring with Deidara, and… well, I don’t think he or I are good for advice on that.”

Tori snorted. No, she didn’t think they would be. 

“Do ninja have to fight a lot with no chakra?” Naruto asked, sounding concerned. 

Minato, seated on his own towel rolled out next to them, poked Naruto’s leg with one foot. 

“You probably won’t have that problem,” Minato said. “Because you’re your mother’s son. But yes, it’s normal to have to do a mission low on chakra, or tired, or hungry.”

“That sounds like it sucks,” Naruto said, frowning. “Why would you assign a mission that sucks?”

Minato grinned back at him. “Well, I try really hard to make missions as easy as possible, but sometimes things go wrong.”

“Like a storm during the fruit vendor union’s meeting,” Kushina said brightly. 

“Er. Yes, like that…” 

Tori sat on her own towel across from them, eating in silence as she watched the family tease each other. It seemed wild they were all being this nonchalant while she was freaking out. Then again, why would they care about her, when they had their own little happy family to concern themselves with? 

The problem with practicing high-chakra techniques was that Tori had already spent so much chakra that not even resting and eating had recouped enough to make anything besides a tiny whirlpool. She was done with that training for the day, whether she wanted to be or not. 

“I guess Minato can take you home, if you want,” Kushina said. “Or you can stay. Have you ever been on a beach before, Tori?”

Tori hadn’t seen a beach in years. Tori did actually quite like the beach; she probably would have been overjoyed if she hadn’t come here already stressed and upset. She agreed to stay. 

The tide had gone out, leaving a wide stretch of wet sand that glinted in the sunlight, algae-covered boulders, and shallow tide pools. Tori watched the Namikaze-Uzumaki family walk out over it, led by Naruto’s screams of delight. 

Tori stripped off her kunoichi dress, down to her bathing suit, and kicked off her sandals. She’d been swimming in plenty of rivers and lakes, but she’d missed the sensation of sand between her toes. 

“Whoa!” Naruto cried. “Look at this guy!”

He held up a horseshoe crab. Tori jogged over to them, eager to look at it herself. 

“They have blue blood,” she told Naruto excitedly. He looked up at her curiously. “Because their blood cells use copper as an oxygen carrier instead of iron. Isn’t that cool?”

Naruto’s face of wonder at the idea of blue blood shifted to confusion. Tori wasn’t sure this kid had understood a single thing she’d told him, possibly ever. Kushina laughed at them. 

They spent the afternoon combing the tide pools for cool little creatures. Kushina knew the names for almost all of them, from the two different types of mudskippers they unearthed, to a bunch of different types of crabs, to a handful of sea cucumbers, to a rainbow of anemones and seaweeds. 

“Tide pool hopping was my favorite game, back in Uzushio, you know,” Kushina told Tori with a hint of sadness in her voice. She held up the tiny hermit crab in her palm. “I used to keep a bunch of these. I was always hoping they’d move into the prettier shells I’d find for them. They never did, though.”

She laughed, but the sound was quieter than Kushina’s laughs usually were. 

Tori opened her mouth to say she’d always begged her parents for a hermit crab when she was a kid, because she liked the painted shells seaside shops sold with them. The story died on her lips before she could make a single syllable. That part of her life was way over. She only ever let herself think about it in the darkest part of the night now. 

Instead she said, “Yeah, tide pools are super cool. I like reading about them. I’m glad I could see them in person.”

Kushina grinned at her. 

“I’m lucky I can still share stuff like this with my family,” Kushina said, voice brighter now. She gently replaced the hermit crab on the edge of its tide pool. “If you ever want to join us again, sometimes we also go to a mainland beach in…”

Kushina babbled. At some point, Minato disappeared and reappeared with a bunch of popsicles. Tori found a spiral of shark eggs and attempted to convince a giggling Naruto he should eat them. They went back to their things only to discover biting ants had invaded all of their bags. 

“We could put out food and draw them away!” Naruto said, a handful of chips from their lunch suddenly in his hands. 

“Do not do that,” Minato yelped, grabbing for Naruto’s wrist. 

They went home all covered in ant bites. Apparently not even a Kage could win against mother nature. 

Tori walked home with a smile on her face, happy with her afternoon. It wasn’t until she was home and heating up water for instant noodles that she realized she hadn’t actually solved any of her problems. She could make a medium whirlpool now, but she’d only get one shot at it, and she had no idea how to approach that. 

Oh god, she thought, heartbeat suddenly increasing. And I only have two weeks left!

xXx

Kushina and Deidara just spammed high-chakra techniques as much as they wanted. They wouldn’t be good for advice. But Tori did have another teammate. 

Itachi was annoyingly hard to track down nowadays. He took a lot of away missions in ANBU, which Minato was tightlipped about with even Kushina, so that route of tracking his movements was limited. If Tori wanted to find him, she had to talk to his family, which she always felt super awkward about. 

“He didn’t give us a return date, dear,” Mikoto told her when she answered the door, smile serene. Tori wondered if she seemed dumb in Mikoto’s eyes. Yes, she knew ANBU agents often couldn’t say when they’d be back. She just thought she’d ask on the off chance that he had!

Mikoto offered to let her stay for tea. Tori fled as quickly and politely as she could. 

Tori started doing increasingly unhinged things, like watching the Academy when it let out because she knew Itachi liked picking up Sasuke and would prioritize getting home in time to do it if he could. She spent a lot of time haunting the outside of ANBU HQ and Itachi’s favorite bakery. None of these things, her anxiety-riddled brain pointed out, helped her train at all. 

She didn’t even find Itachi doing this. Instead, Kakashi tapped her on the shoulder while she was sneaking into the ANBU breakroom after hours. 

“Fantastically illegal activities you’re up to, my sweet ninja sibling,” he drawled. 

Tori had basically jumped out of her skin, but she’d managed not to scream. God, Kakashi could hide his presence completely. 

“I’m trying to find Itachi,” she said, voice strangled. Then she cocked her head to the side as she considered Kakashi. “Actually, maybe you can help instead. Got a few minutes for some mentoring?”

Kakashi was in full ANBU uniform, so she couldn’t see his face. He did lean back slightly, regarding her. She knew that, despite his posturing about calling Team 4 his “siblings,” Kakashi was pretty hit-or-miss about actually wanting to hang out with anyone at all. He liked privacy and was allergic to intimacy, and she had no idea if helping a genin out of the goodness of his heart was pushing it or not. 

After a long, awkward silence, Kakashi finally said. “Alright. Give me twenty minutes to shower and change.”

He sent her to a nearby teahouse to meet and then didn’t show up for another forty-five minutes. The tea Tori ordered for them was lukewarm by the time he walked in. 

“I became lost in thought in the shower,” he said dreamily. 

“Gross,” Tori told him. 

Kakashi blinked lethargically at her. “I did not imply that at all, my dirty-minded sibling.” 

Tori cut to the chase, explaining her current mess of a situation to him. She was supposed to win a bunch of fights, act charming and cool while she did it, and on top of all that, she had to use a high-chakra fuuinjutsu technique she was unlikely to get comfortable with in the current timeframe. 

“What… exactly… are you asking for advice on?” Kakashi asked when she was finished. 

“You end up with chakra exhaustion a lot,” Tori said pointblank. “I guess I was wondering… I don’t know, how do you deal with not having enough chakra for your own techniques?”

“Hmm,” Kakashi said, drumming his fingers on the table between them. “You know, you’re right. Maybe being charming and ‘peppy’ is impossible for you. That was pretty mean.”

Tori kicked him under the table. 

“I still don’t understand what you’re torn up about,” Kakashi said, his eye crinkling up in a teasing grin at her. “When I met you, you had no accessible chakra, and that didn’t slow you down at all. Why does the idea of spending it all on one technique upset you so much?”

“I guess…” Tori fidgeted with the cup in her hands. “If I just had to win a fight, that would be one thing. But I’m supposed to do a very specific thing, and I’ll only really get one shot at it.”

“Ah,” Kakashi said. There was a long pause. Then he said, “I am trying to think of a joke appropriate for a fourteen year old.”

“Gross!” Tori laughed. 

“Maa,” Kakashi said. “Unfortunately I don’t think there’s a very good answer to your conundrum. If you screw up, you screw up. Any big technique is like that. If it helps, you’re at a normal part of any ninja’s journey.” 

Tori wasn’t… she wasn’t a proper ninja, though. She felt like a pretender, a fake, a kid playing make believe. She had no idea how to communicate this to Kakashi without sounding completely insane. 

“I think maybe,” Kakashi continued, leaning back in his seat, “you’re more anxious because it’s not your original technique, so you’re not as confident with it. You’re used to having done all the development and troubleshooting yourself, and the lack of control on that end is freaking you out.”

“...Huh,” Tori said. That… that definitely could be part of it. 

“I’m not the person to ask about original techniques,” Kakashi drawled. “But I will say that the key to mastering someone else’s technique is to make it your own. You don’t have to use it exactly the way Kushina does. You have to figure out how to make it work with your style.”

“That’s actually really helpful,” Tori said with a weak smile. “Thanks, Kakashi.”

“Anytime,” Kakashi replied, and then disappeared into a puff of smoke, leaving her with the bill. 

xXx

Tori felt slightly at peace for a few more days, spending time analyzing the jutsu scroll and cross-referencing pieces of it with her research materials. This seemed closer to who she actually was. It soothed her. 

Then Deidara spiked her anxiety all over again by showing her a lease he’d signed. There was another line with an X next to it, for her to sign as well. 

“I haven’t even seen the apartment,” Tori said, feeling hysterical. Why was everyone making all these insane decisions for her?!

“It’s cool, I promise,” Deidara said. “But we have to sign quick. The landlord only gave me a couple days to decide, yeah.”

Tori leafed through the lease furiously. The address was in a really nice neighborhood, the square footage was impressive, and the lease listed patio furniture among assets they’d be liable for, implying the existence of that outdoor space she wanted. Half the total rent would be a huge stretch even on a chunin salary, and she might not even get that. 

“I’m willing to divide up rent proportional to our salaries, but I get the bigger bedroom,” Deidara said. 

“Even if I stay a genin?” Tori snapped. She shoved the paper and the pen at him. 

“You’re not going to stay a genin, yeah,” he replied, annoyed, and shoved it back at her.  

“The average age of promotion is fifteen,” Tori said, her voice cracking embarrassingly. “Thirty percent of shinobi never even make chunin.”

Tori had less than a week to prepare before heading out. She felt like she needed months to practice as much as she wanted, and she didn’t have the time or energy to deal with this. And yet, she found herself skipping her training ground booking to take a tour of an apartment.

“Be quick,” the landlord said. “The current tenants only agreed to thirty minutes.”

The apartment was really nice. Nicer than she’d even ever considered an apartment could be, really. All three of the bedrooms and their own narrow balconies, not quite enough for furniture but enough for a potted plant and to step out onto in the morning, and there was a rooftop terrace. 

“We could make this one an office,” Deidara said, gesturing at the smallest bedroom, which was the size of a very determined closet and currently done up as a baby room. The current tenants wanted an actual house for their growing family, apparently. 

Deidara could easily afford a pretty nice apartment on a Jounin salary, even if he had zero savings to fall back on. Tori assumed his insistence on her rooming with him was the little income bump to get him something even better than “pretty nice.” He probably felt like he deserved it, after all those years as a feral forest child. 

She certainly couldn’t afford anything approaching this good on her own. If she wanted anything bigger than her dorm room on her own, she’d have to either get incredibly lucky or look in one of the shittier outer neighborhoods, which was why she hadn’t done it. 

When they were done with the tour, the landlord stared expectantly at them. Deidara cleared his throat and looked meaningfully at her. 

Oh, so he’d gotten this last minute tour because he’d promised the landlord she’d sign. 

Tori low-key felt like flipping them both off and stomping off. Her hand balled into a fist. 

“The café on the corner is supposed to have the best coffee in Konoha, yeah,” Deidara said, eyes glinting. 

“Fine,” Tori seethed. “I’ll sign.”

If she didn’t make chunin, her life really was going to turn into a shit show. 

So long, take-out lunches, she thought as she signed her life away. 

As they walked back to the dorms, Tori actually thought a little harder about what they’d just done. She’d never rented an apartment herself before, but Deidara had been working on moving out since he made chunin. She’d listened to a lot of rants about biases landlords had against younger ninja, even if they had high salaries. Usually ninja got charged high, multi-month deposits, to cover the landlord in case the renter should randomly die. It prevented younger ninja, who didn’t have savings, from renting higher-end places even if they could afford the monthly rent. 

“There wasn’t anything in the lease about a deposit,” Tori said, confused. Was that a separate thing she’d also suddenly have shoved in front of her? “Or… key money?”

Deidara beamed at her. “I found a way around that! I just got a cosigner to cover us, yeah.”

“Cosigner…?” Tori repeated. “That wasn’t on the lease…”

“Yeah, usually that’d be in there and it wouldn’t get you out of a deposit,” Deidara agreed. “But turns out you can get away with anything with a letter from Hokage-sama, yeah!”

Tori stopped dead in her tracks. Oh good, now if she didn’t make chunin, the Hokage would know she couldn’t make rent. 

“What?” Deidara said, putting his hand on his hip. “You wanted to read his note too? Tori, you're such a nerd–”

Tori resisted the urge to scream. 

xXx

Itachi finally found her two days before she was set to leave. He found her setting up at the training ground she had booked for the morning.

“Both my mother and Kakashi-sempai said you were looking for me,” he said, eyeing the line of bamboo poles she set out in the packed dirt. 

“Yeah,” Tori said, pointing accusingly at him. “You are impossible to find, asshole.”

“I apologize,” Itachi said, not sounding the least sorry. “I’ve been… increasingly uncomfortable at home, and have been taking longer missions.”

Tori squinted at him. She’d thought Danzo being gone would make his family situation better, not worse. 

“Is something wrong?” she asked carefully. 

Itachi, being an uncommunicative asshole, just shook his head. He didn’t look any more stressed than he usually did: he had killer bags under his eyes, but that was his normal state of being. His hair was recently washed and shiny, not gross from too much time on missions and not enough time with shower access. His body language was calm and lacked the weird twitchy movements he’d get when he was trying not to lose his shit on someone. 

He was at least physically taking care of himself, then. She had no idea what went on in his messed up little brain, but Sasuke had seemed perfectly happy and sociable those days she’d clandestinely stalked him, which was a good predictor of Itachi’s anxiety levels. 

“Did you want something from me?” Itachi prompted. 

“Oh,” Tori said. “Kakashi ended up helping me out, actually.”

She briefly explained her current conundrum. 

“Kiri?” Itachi asked, and Tori noted he brightened ever so much. This was basically the Itachi version of perking up like a dog hearing the treat bag rustle. It was almost cute. 

“Yeah,” Tori said. “The other thing I wanted to ask was if you want me to tell you-know-who anything.”

“Hmm, no,” Itachi said, without the slightest hint of malice in his voice.

“Really?” 

“If I had something to say,” Itachi said blandly, “I would simply send a crow.”

Tori’s lips thinned. Itachi was… not a very good friend, in her opinion. But it also wasn’t in her place to micromanage his friendship with Kisame. 

“Perhaps you can ask how he’s doing,” Itachi said mildly. “I would like to know.”

That was… that was cute, actually. 

“Sure,” Tori agreed. 

Itachi next turned back to her bamboo poles. 

“Is this for your mission?” he asked. 

“Mm,” Tori said. “I’m making an overly complicated jutsu to look cool. Wanna help? I need someone to swing a sword at me.”

Itachi was happy to comply. He was, Tori abruptly remembered, a terrifying person to have swing a sword at you. 

But she did get her jutsu working.

[slippinmickeys]

I got a Funfetti prompt (I think on Twitter? I don't know, I can't find it.) And this is in answer to that prompt. If this was you, please give me a shout and I'll make sure to acknowledge you on AO3!

William at the kitchen table doing homework, Krypto at his feet. 

Mulder was making dinner, using far too many pots and pans, greasy oil popping onto the stovetop, onto the backsplash, onto the floor. He would try to clean it up later, but it would mostly smear. She would end up cleaning it herself even after asking him to do it, which he would gamely try. Fifteen years living with the man and she still couldn’t tell if it was weaponized incompetence or if he really couldn’t see the mess. 

“Mom, what’s the medical term for a nose bleed?”

Scully looked up from her laptop, her late-40’s brain taking a full ten seconds to switch gears. God, she was tired. 

“Epistaxis,” she finally answered, watching as William wrote this down. 

She was just shifting her attention back to her work when William asked another question. “Is there a medical term for spontaneous human combustion?”

Mulder looked up, a dripping spoon halfway between the steaming pot on the stove and his mouth.

“I know this one—“ he started, but Scully interrupted.

“There is not ,” she said, with enough authority that William merely glanced at his father once quickly before nodding at his mother and once again putting pen to paper. 

Another minute later and he piped up again and Scully leaned back, giving up on actually getting any real work done. 

“Is there a scientific name for a sneeze?”

Scully had to actually give that one some thought.

“Sternutation,” she said. 

William looked back to his homework. 

“But also,” Scully said, feeling her oats just a little bit, “autosomal dominant compelling helio-ophthalmic outburst.”

William sat back a moment, looked a bit like he was doing math in his head. “Wait—“ he said. 

Scully couldn’t help but smile. “Yes,” she said. “The acronym is ACHOO.”

Both William and Mulder turned to look at her. Even Krypto raised his head. 

“Though,” she went on, not really noticing their gaze. “That generally refers to the incognizant, uncontrollable sneezing in response to the sudden exposure to bright light, typically intense sunlight. Also known as photic sneezing.”

When she looked up, all three males were staring at her. 

“What?” she asked innocently. Then, “What class is this for, exactly?”

William refrained from answering, turning his attention completely—and pretty obviously artificially—back to his work. 

Mulder appeared suddenly at her elbow. “Taste,” he said, holding out a spoon, his hand cupped beneath it.

He was making some kind of sweet baked bean dish, which contained entirely too much sugar and highly processed meat. It smelled wonderful. 

She took a taste. “It’s good,” she said. 

“Doesn’t need salt?” he asked. 

She shook her head, looked up at him. “No.” 

Mulder held her eye for a moment, popped the spoon she had just tasted off of back into his mouth, giving her an interested look. 

William, across the room, watched them, a look she couldn’t name on his face. 

***

Morning, half a bagel stuck in her mouth, her purse shoved into the passenger side footwell.

William swung into the seat next to her, pushed his bookbag in between his two legs. They were running late. 

She took a bite of the bagel and pulled it out of her mouth with her right hand, looked at William. “Will you put it in reverse?” she asked around the bite, cream cheese sticking to the roof of her mouth. 

He nodded and put the car in gear and she backed out, one hand on the steering wheel, the other around the back of the passenger seat, trying not to smear cream cheese into the upholstery. 

When she’d pulled out onto the road, she took another bite. “Can you put it in gear?” 

Her son sighed and complied. 

“Is this some kind of test to make sure I’m ready for driver’s ed?” he asked. 

She peered over at him a moment before returning her eyes to the road. “Would you rather hold my bagel?”

“No,” he answered honestly. 

Five more bites and it was no longer a problem. 

As they swung east on the state road that led out to Will’s school, she caught the boy peering at her, that same look on his face from the night before. 

She glanced in his direction. “Everything okay?” she asked, casual. 

He hummed, noncommittal, and turned to look out the window. 

***

Evening. The bedside lamp casting a warm pool of light across the blankets, softening the corners of the room. 

Scully sat cross-legged, wearing an old Quantico shirt, a paperback face-up in her lap. She’d been quiet for the last few pages, starting at the wall more than the book. Mulder, half-reclined against the headboard, looked over from the file in his lap. 

“What’s up?” he asked, nudging her with his knee. “You’ve been on the same paragraph since 9:15.”

Scully sighed, pressing her fingers to her temple. She felt off. Like everything in her life was tilted by one single degree. 

“Scully?” 

“I think I might be starting menopause,” she said, the words tumbling out before she had chance to process them. 

Mulder blinked. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” she repeated. 

“Yeah. I mean–okay. Is that why you cried over the laundry detergent commercial this morning? Because I gotta be honest, that felt a bit extreme. Especially for you.”

She snorted, despite herself. “Yes. And my last couple of periods have been wonky. And I can’t sleep, despite being utterly exhausted. And I wanted to throw my computer out the window when I couldn’t find the PowerPoint file I literally named ‘FinalFinal2.’”

“Ah. The elusive ‘FinalFinal2.’ A classic.” he reached out and took her hand. “I guess congratulations are in order.”

She narrowed her eyes. “On what exactly?”

“Entering the next epic saga in the great tale of Scully. We’ve had Special Agent Scully, Scully the New Mom, Scully the Woman Who Yelled at a Telelmarketer for Calling During Dinner. Doctor Scully. Now we get Scully the Menopausal Mage. Hot flashes and mysterious wisdom.”

Scully laughed, covering her face with one hand. “You’re an idiot.” 

“I prefer ‘devoted life partner.’” He leaned over and kissed her temple. “Do we need to buy, like, a fan for the bed? Or ice packs? Do they make menopause merch?”

“I don’t think there’s merch.” 

“Missed opportunity.”

She sighed again, softer this time. “It just feels weird. If that’s what this is. Like, part me is relieved. But part of me…I don’t know. It’s the end of something.”

Mulder was quiet for a beat, then squeezed her hand. “Yeah, but it’s also the beginning of no more cramps, no more emergency tampon hunts, and you finally get to fully embrace your inner witch.”

Scully grinned. “I am a little witchy.”

“And I love that about you,” he said, nudging her shoulder. “Seriously. We’ll figure this out. One night sweat at a time.”

She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I haven’t actually had that many night sweats.”

“Are you sure?” he murmured. “Because it feels like you’re radiating heat like a furnace.”

“It’s called inner fire,” she said. 

“Well your inner fire is making my arm sweat.” 

Scully pulled away from him, closing her book and setting it on the nightstand. Reaching up, she turned off her light and settled into her pillow. 

“Thanks, Mulder,” she said. 

He leaned down and kissed her cheek. 

***

William in the kitchen holding a dog treat, Krypto sitting at attention. 

Mulder was at the table with his tie undone, his sidearm still in a holster at his hip. There was a file in front of him and his brow was creased. 

Scully came down the stairs with a laundry basket pressed to her hip. 

Will looked up at her, his eyes going slightly squinty, that same puzzled, curious expression he’d had for the last several days settling onto his face. In front of him, Krypto gave a quick, sharp bark. 

“Don’t tease him, Will,” she said and that seemed to snap her son out of his daze. 

“What?” he said. “Oh.” He gave the dog its treat, who crunched it happily, if quickly. 

Scully headed through the kitchen and into the laundry room. When she emerged, Mulder was rubbing tiredly at his eyes and Will was trying to get Krypto to do a trick. Will’s gaze, when she walked back through with the empty basket, followed her. 

“Okay,” she said, pulling up short in front of her son. “What?”

Mulder glanced up to watch. 

“What what?” Will asked, puzzled. 

Scully put her hands on her hips. “You’ve been looking at me funny for days. Why?”

Will shrugged, looked at the floor, the dog, his father. Anywhere but at her. 

Scully huffed, a little irritated, and made her way back over to the stairs. 

When her foot was on the first step, Will finally spoke.

“There’s someone else here,” he said, his voice odd and low. 

A chill went up Scully’s spine and she paused and turned slowly to her son. 

Mulder was already on his feet, his hand on the grip of his gun. 

William looked briefly at his father. “Not like that,” he said quietly, and Mulder pulled his hand slowly away from his sidearm. 

Scully removed her foot from the step and slowly turned toward her son. 

“Then like what, Will?”

William looked down at her and then flitted his eyes back to hers. “Mom…” 

Realization hit like a freight train, and Scully brought a hand to her stomach, and then--feeling suddenly lightheaded, lowered herself to sit on the step, her hand gripping the bannister hard. 

“Scully!” Mulder said, moving quickly to her side. He kneeled down next to her and looked back up at their son. “Will?”

“I wasn’t sure at first,” William said. He looked at the floor, his voice like a whisper. “It was quiet. Small. But it’s growing.” 

Scully saw it the moment it occurred to her husband as well. 

“Wait, you mean–” Mulder started.

William looked up at them, gave a small, almost embarrassed smile. 

“Jesus,” Mulder said, twisting back to look at Scully. “Jesus…”

[parasolladyansy]

PKMN & spring rain

Why, hello again, Rain. Hehe. 🩵

It’s almost the first day of spring, my favorite time of year (even as I start to get allergies lol). It’s a cool, damp, overcast day, & thought I’d have a little fun with the plush team. ^u^

Welcome to my tiny, little rainy garden. 🌧️🪺🌱

She’s a little messy, & some flowers are still in the middle (or beginning) of growing. That’s okay though - so am I lol. ;u;

The little umbrella decoration Zephyr is Roosting on is supposed to be a bird feeder, but it’s a bit small - I mostly use it for the vibes. I did put a little birdseed though, just in case (thinking of just getting a tiny plant to grow in there lol).

I’m slowly getting more feathered friends visiting me, thanks to the bigger dish of birdseed I left out - a pair of mourning doves are my most regular visitors, but I saw a pair of cardinals this morning, along with a little finch. Now I just gotta find a way to stop the birdseed from falling down on my downstairs neighbor’s balcony…I’m so sorry neighbors, I swear I don’t mean it! >u>;;

I always get white geraniums & violas / pansies. The geraniums stick around for most of the year - I like how their flower bunches look like puffy cumulus clouds (especially in the sky blue pot it’s in). ☁️

Here’s a bit of rain lore 🌧️ It was believed that if you pick a pansy in the morning, it’ll rain later in the day. I think it might be from the fact that pansies / violas are one of the first & last flowers you plant in the year, which also is the time we see some more rainfall as the air & temperatures shift. Either way, that’s why they’d use pansies for rain spells.✨

I also have my paperwhites out here now, & planted some bird-eye speedwell seeds - we’ll see if they bloom / sprout. Meanwhile, I always dreamt of growing a pretty blue hydrangea (they were in my wedding bouquet 🩵). This was the spring I said, “heck - let’s try it!” We’ll see how she grows, & if she flowers this summer. 8u8

Oh, & where’s Cirrus? My little garden is a bit too messy for him lol, so he stayed in & helped me make harusame soup. “Harusame” means “spring rain”, I think because of the clear glass noodles. =u=

Thanks for spending this time with me. These days, I’ve been trying to just concentrate on what I can do, what hope, happiness, & / or peace I can find (& share). Luckily, spring is the perfect time to do just that. 🌱

[rivalswrites]

Horribly made better

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

This totally isn't based on my own experience with cooking…

Summary: Clint wants to make you something nice, but screws it up. (Lots of only Clint content, my bad)

Warning: they make out (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ (self indulgent)

Masterlist

It was one of those days for you, he could tell. The look of your face said it all, and your sagging shoulders. Clint could somewhat pay attention, at least to his favorite person.

When you came into the bedroom and just fell into the bed, shoes still on and basically suffocating yourself in the pillow, he knew it was his duty to cheer you up- at least a little. And so, with determination running through his veins, he got to work- after wrapping you up in his own jacket (that was absolutely drowned in his shitty cologne) and beloved scarf so you wouldn't truly be alone.

He sets himself up in the kitchen, a pan already on the stove with oil in it. Making something from scratch he knew he couldn't do, so he rummaged through the freezer before he found what he wanted. Definitely freezer-burnt pot stickers, they'd been in there forever but neither of you wanted to throw them away just in case. They'll be okay, freezer-burn hasn't killed anyone, right?

Eh it's fine, he shrugged to himself, ripping the bag open. The bag had instructions on the back, he can't fuck this up. Reading them was simple, crowding a punch onto the oiled pot and adding water into it.

Oh shit, that looks like too much water? Okay, it's alright, he'll just pour some of the water out. Now it looks worse, are they meant to look like soggy towels? No, it's fine, he's overthinking it, definitely overthinking it. With confidence he turns on the heat and watches for a moment, it doesn't look good, but it's still frozen, it'll be alright. The cupboards open as he kneels down to look for a lid so it can simmer- or boil? They're like the same thing anyways. It was all the way in the back, and he thought he was going to pull a muscle or drop other stuff that sat on top of the lid trying to grab it.

With the lid successfully on, he checks the time and makes a mental timer and then puts the bag back in the freezer for them to collect more icicles. It doesn't take long for him to hear the water inside boiling, that's how it works when you've got a lid on, he took science class in highschool, he's smart.

It also didn't take long for him to start panicking, rushing to grab a paper towel. The water slowly started to bubble under the lid and some of it trickled out, sliding down the sides and making sizzling sounds. He dabs the paper towel on the sides and lifts the lid to check, the water level was the same so why was it doing that? Whatever, one time thing right? Wrong, but he toughened it out.

When the timer in his mind went off he took the kid off and looked at them, they seemed okay. Mission successful? He tries to grab one off of the pan and onto the plate but it doesn't work, it's sticking to the pan. Maybe it needs to cook longer, he thinks, so he puts the lid back on and lets it sit for a couple more minutes. Lifting the kid and again attempting to pull them out, but again, they were sticking to the pan. Oh well, he followed the instructions, they were cooked fully, he'll just pull them off with his strength. It took awhile, but it works, he gets them all on the plate: they don't look good at all, but that's fine.

He picks one up and eats it whole, huffing like he didn't know it just came off the stove. It tastes fine, looks didn't matter anyways. He opens the fridge and grabs the soy sauce, rummaging around in a drawer and finding a small container to pour in. Setting the small container on the plate he grabs a fork and his plan is complete. Mostly, he still has to give it to you and make you feel better- like the amazing boyfriend he is.

Shoving the door open with his shoulder it doesn't take long for him to announce his presence. You're huddled up underneath the covers, face being the only thing not covered.

“Sweetheart, I made you some food, get up and eat some, yeah?” He says, sitting next to you and resting a hand on what he thinks is your shoulder.

With a gentle ‘hm’ you get up and reach your arms out. He hands you the plate, but keeps the fork so he can feed you- he's so romantic, he thinks to himself. It's a long while before either of you talk again, him feeding you shitty cooked pot stickers and you just letting him. They weren't bad by any means, just torn up. It's the thought that counts, you know he's trying his best, he can't help that he's a loser (affectionately).

After all of it's gone, he sets the plate down on the bedside table and focuses his attention on you, arms coming to wrap around you. “Feeling any better, sweetheart?” He murmurs, leaning you back onto the bedframe and wrapping himself around you- he's practically straddling you. All you can give back is a smile and a hum, still feeling iffy but not as much as when you got home. He hates seeing you like this, it's like his duty to make you better.

“C'mon sweetheart, I know you're down. How can I help?” He rests a hand on your cheek and rubs his thumb over it, relishing in the contact when you lean into it. “I got you, baby” he whispers, leaning in and leaving a kiss on your lips. It's gentle, something you both needed.

He keeps leaving soft kisses, before eventually he stopped pulling away- locking his lips with yours with soft passion. There's moments where he pulls away for a deep breath before he goes back to you, almost as if he was entranced by your slightly chapped lips. Which he most definitely was. The way he straddled you, leaning down to keep his face with yours and holding your face, his other hand coming up to hold the other side of your face.

The soft make out session lasted for a while, longer than either of you thought, but it ended when he pulled away for good. His face stayed close to yours though, his breath mixing with yours and warming each other's faces. “Any better?” He mumbles, eyes barely open as he looks into yours.

“I think I need a few more kisses” you mutter back, closing your eyes as you lean in to grasp his lips with yours. He gladly accepted, leaning forward into you. Anything to make his darling partner feel better.