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coulson-is-an-avenger · 4 years

Note

50 or 33 with jmart for the smooch prompt list :mimhonk.emoji:

#33 - An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it, and #50 - A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck. POR QUÉ NO LOS DOS!

thank you tem!!! :D I had a lot of fun with this one, and because of that it also got Long As Fuck so bear with me on that. Set in the safehouse also! Hope you enjoy ^_^

It’s been a very, very good day at the safehouse. The Lonely has been quiet, lurking almost entirely out of sight rather than clinging onto the both of them, and Martin’s been relaxed and open, happy in a way Jon hasn’t honestly seen him in months. The Eye has been quiet as well, and even Jon’s pain levels have been down today - no small miracle given the chilly weather - and it feels like a day for new beginnings, a day for truths.

So, “I missed you,” is what tumbles out over dinner, over beans and soup and tea.

Jon hears Martin’s breath catch before he sees it, before he looks up to see the stunned smile that takes over his face. “I missed you too,” he replies softly, and Jon pretends not to hear the crack in his voice where the unused muscle of emotion splits the air.

Jon holds his gaze for an admirable amount of time, but even he wavers. He’s never been a brave man, and he looks down at the table before speaking. “There were spiders, while you were gone,” Jon begins, tracing a finger along the grain of the table. “God, I really should have gotten more in the business of squishing them.”

“Yeah?” Martin offers, encouraging. The anecdote feels clumsy, foolish, but Martin is laying a hand across the table to show his patience, and Jon is grateful.

“I never quite could make myself do it though, I guess I just-” He trails off, starts a new thread of the story. “They always made me think of you, in a way. You always cared so much about all the little things. Always insisted on carrying them out. Dreadful things that still deserved kindness in your eyes.” Like me, he doesn’t add. “I always admired that about you. So I didn’t squish them as much.” He finishes clumsily, glancing up with a flash of his eyes before looking down at the table again to pick at the grain of the wood.

Martin blinks at him. Stares at him in silence for what Jon can only assume is an eternity, until he has to look up and make sure he’s still there. And then Martin stands, tea forgotten, maneuvers himself around the table, and darts in and presses his lips to Jon’s.

It only lasts for a moment - half a heartbeat of a touch - but it’s warm and vulnerable and a bit awkward and it sends Jon’s eyes flying wide open in shock.

Martin pulls back just as quickly as he had dived in, retreating so fast he bumps into the nearby counter, his eyes widening, and the first thing out of his mouth is “Oh, shit.”

Jon can’t blame him, he’s utterly dumbstruck himself. His head feels pleasantly fuzzy, but confusion swims up to trump every other emotion until the only thing he’s able to push out of his lungs is; “I- excuse me?”

Martin blinks, his panic floundering in confusion. “I- sorry, excuse you for what?”

Jon’s brows furrow together as he tries to piece his thoughts together. “You... don’t,” he says like it’s obvious, and then hesitates. “I-I mean, you- you said... you did, but not... so why-” Jon looks hopelessly out of his depth as he gestures, not making sense. “Why did you do that?”

Martin stares, the tips of his ears burning dark red. “I don’t what, Jon?”

Jon curls in on himself, shame bubbling to the surface. What has he gotten wrong? What has he missed? “I-in the Lonely. You said you loved me.”

Martin’s breath hitches at his own words repeated back at him - words he doesn’t even remember saying. The fog had been so intense, so much and yet so pointless all at once, it had been so hard to keep anything straight, to hold down any memory or emotion. He hardly remembers saying those words, but they draw a wobbly smile out of him anyways. He supposes it makes sense that he would say them, though. Not much could cut through the fog, but Jon did. Jon always did. He still does.

“Did I? I didn’t know I had it in me to share.”

Jon shakes his head, now looking frustrated. “But you didn’t.” He insists. “You don’t... that means you don’t anymore.” His expression stalls for a second, before something akin to horror blooms on his face, and he scrambles to his feet to face him. “Martin, if you think- God, if you think you somehow owe me this after all that, let me be abundantly cl-”

“No!! No, no.” Martin cuts in, sensing Jon’s building distress and moving away from the counter to rest a hand on his shoulder. “No,” he repeats, softer. He takes a deep breath and lets himself run his thumb over the fabric of Jon’s sweater. “I don’t think I owe you. Not in that way. Christ, of course not.”

Jon is silent for several long minutes, before his voice begins working again, and he stutters back into a sentence. “O-okay. Okay. Good.” He clears his throat. “Then why-? I-I-I thought-” He gathers up what brain power he has left to sort his thoughts. Something like hope tinges his voice, and Martin marvels at how deeply Jon seems to have resigned himself to this truth, while still being eager to save his life and run away with him all the way to Scotland. Love is a funny thing. When he speaks again, his voice is so, so quiet. “After the Unknowing, I thought I lost my chance. Thought you’d moved on. N-not that I would have blamed you, I just- but you-”

“Jon,” Martin says softly, ducking his head to catch his eyes. “I wasn’t quite myself in the Lonely. I didn’t mean that as an ending.” He breaks his gaze away, looks down at his own hand on Jon’s shoulder. “I was mourning something I thought I’d lost.”

“Oh,” The word escapes Jon’s lungs in a rush; several years worth of longing filling up his chest and squeezing his throat like smoke, making his eyes sting. “Oh, I’m sorry-”

“No, no,” Martin shakes his head. “That’s over now.”

Jon presses a hand to his eyes, breathing, letting everything settle in.

“Well. That certainly makes me feel foolish.”

Martin laughs, a free, wonderful sound that fills the air with electricity and warms Jon down to his bones. He realizes he’s staring at him, watching how his shoulders move with adoration, watching the joy radiate from him with nothing short of beauty. A moment of insane courage passes through Jon, and he moves his hand to cover the one Martin still has resting on his shoulder.

He steps closer. “Do you want this then? The way that I do?” His voice is eager, and he’s afraid to breathe.

Martin’s expression absolutely melts, and he sways closer. He Saw Jon in the Lonely, in all his hopeless lovestruck worry, so he knows what he means. “Yes,” he answers. “More than anything. I don’t-” he makes a pained face, and looks down, prepares himself for the undressing that comes before the acceptance of love. “I don’t know how okay I am. Don’t know how much of me is still me after everything with Lukas and- and well, everything, but...”

“I know what you mean,” Jon assures him, running his thumbs over his knuckles. “I’m not even human anymore.” He exhales, in the tone of a joke fallen flat.

Martin squeezes his shoulder. “Exactly,” he murmurs. “But I still want to try.”

“Martin,” Jon exhales, his voice thick and his eyes wet. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

Martin tugs Jon’s hand from where it’s resting atop his to press a kiss to his knuckles, and Jon laughs, a quiet little sound, and then he’s moving, leaning back into Martin’s space; his face growing blurry as he gets up close and presses their lips together again. He misses the mark just a bit, the kiss landing a little too high on his mouth, but Martin leans up into it, rearranging their positions, and just like that it’s perfect. Not earth-shattering, not magical, just perfect, in the way that only imperfection can be. Martin lets himself sink into it.

It’s gentle, sweet, and it makes Martin’s head buzz with disbelief. He breaks away to breathe, for a moment, just to wrap his head around what’s happening, and then Jon is tugging him back in, more intentionally this time.

Jon kisses very thoroughly, Martin soon learns with amusement. He furrows his brow and crowds himself into Martin’s space, curling his hands in his shirt, and he moves his mouth in time with Martin’s like he has a purpose to follow, like he’s devoting himself to studying him; focusing on each touch with crystal clarity. He has a single-minded doggedness about the whole thing, and Martin eventually relaxes and just lets himself be kissed, following along with gentle touches and barely held-back smiles.

He raises a hand experimentally to run through his hair, and Jon kisses him deeper in response; open mouthed and wanting, tasting what he can, allowing himself to bite his lip gently. That takes the breath straight out of Martin’s lungs, and the bitten-off sound he makes apparently encourages Jon even more, as he breaks away and kisses him down across his jaw, under his chin, and down the side of his throat.

It’s frantic at first, a desperate attempt to map out as much of Martin as he can in the time he has, but the sense of urgency starts to bleed out of him, and he ends up kissing gentler and gentler the longer he lingers, until eventually Jon’s just nuzzling his nose into his skin and wrapping his arms around him for a hug. The sigh that escapes him makes Martin’s heart clench.

“I love you,” he mumbles into Martin’s shoulder, and later the weight of this will settle on their shoulders. Later they will have to sit down and figure this out, this mess of personalities and supernatural entanglement, this terrible future of fear laid out before them, and the path forward they will choose to carve out together. But for now they can sink into this embrace and breathe.

Martin doesn’t say the words back, he’s not quite there yet, but he doesn’t need to. It’s enough, it’s more than enough to just be here, for Martin to press his nose into Jon’s hair, and smile until his face aches from it.

#HELLO GAY PEOPLE THIS IS SO LONG #i may be touch starved!#the magnus archives #jonmartin #tma fic #my writing #fic #kisses prompts #god they talk SO MUCH. i do NOT know how to write Tiny Snippets #mossy speaks #ANYWHO ENJOY

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babbushka · 4 years

Note

Those last minute lists are fun! How about “Everyone thinks I should stay away from you because you’re dangerous.” With your choice of kylos please! I’m looking forward to reading everything today!

Fall, your favorite time of year. The city is rainy and gloomy today, as it has been the past little while, and you could not be happier. The leaves on the trees around you are beginning their change from bright greens to rusty reds and oranges, the temperature has dropped, and everything is shrouded in that beginning mist of autumn.

Outside it may be drizzling and chilly, but inside Kylo’s apartment it is warm. You’re in his kitchen, the both of you. A big stock pot is on the stove bubbling away, a small radio tuned in to the oldies is turned down just high enough to hear the music above the pitter patter of rain on the roof.

Kylo’s bumping his hip against yours as he slides some carrots into the stock pot, careful not to splash hot water everywhere. He’s been playfully charming all day, you’ve even managed to get two whole smiles out of him – a record.

“Thank you for coming over, I wasn’t sure if you would.” Kylo says shyly, wrapping his arms around your middle.

You’ve got a couple heads of garlic in front of you that you’re working on chopping up, a big hefty knife in your hand. It’s one of Kylo’s knives, which makes sense for why it’s so oversized. Everything about your boyfriend is oversized, it would seem, including that nose of his as it prods against your cheek softly.

“Why wouldn’t I? I like your apartment.” You grin, turn to catch his lips with yours, can feel the light scratch of his stubble as it rasps against your ear. You wonder for half a minute if he’ll grow his facial hair out for the cooler months, and you find that you don’t mind the idea in the least.

“I’ve just, well. I know that there’s rumors, about me.” He shrugs, his tattoos flexing around you as he sways you gently back and forth to the sweet jazz coming from the radio. You plop the garlic into the stock pot along with everything else, chuckling ever so slightly and letting yourself be moved as he continues, “I wasn’t sure if you’ve heard them. Wasn’t sure if that’d change your mind about me.”

You put the knife down on the cutting board and turn in his embrace to face him. Looping your arms around his strong neck, admiring the way his black tank top hugs his body, you smooch him sweetly.

“Oh I’ve heard them.” You smile against his lips, “Everyone thinks I should stay away from you because you’re dangerous.”

There’s all sorts of rumors, about Kylo. Conspiracies and exaggerated lies and everything in between. Some of them you know are true, you know he’s killed people. Accidental deaths in bar fights don’t bother you, not at all, not when the men deserved to have their shit kicked in by your Kylo’s heavy boots.

“Do you think I’m dangerous?” He asks you seriously, no hint of teasing or playfulness in his voice, and you sigh and shrug with soft eyes.

“Yes.” You reply honestly, quickly continuing before he can get too sour about it, “But I like it. And I know that I’m not in any danger when I’m with you.”

Relief washes over him, and he smiles shyly at you – three in one day! You can’t help but think – before he taps the underside of your chin with his tattooed knuckles and steps aside to stir the soup.

“Good.” He blushes into the stock pot, and you hum along to the music happily.

“Chop for me please? I don’t want my eyes to sting.” You offer some of the yellow onions up to him with a cheeky bite of your lip.

“Oh so my eyes can sting?” Kylo scoffs, taking them from you anyway and bumping you out of his way playfully with his hip so he can take the big knife in his big hands and easily cut through them, skins and all.

“Just intimidate them, I’m sure it won’t be so bad for a big tough guy like you.” You tug on his earlobe and he swats at it as he expertly works through the raw flesh of the onion, dumping them into the stock pot with everything else.

“What if it is? What if it’s worse?” He complains fondly, and you roll your eyes.

“Then I’ll kiss it better.” You whisper, capturing his face in your hands and turning it towards you.

He lets his eyes slip closed, and you kiss the lids there, softly, sweetly. Kylo melts into your embrace, and you’re sure that if men could purr, he’d be revving just as loudly as the engine of his bike under your touch.

You pull away and begin to rummage around in the cabinets for spices and seasonings to add to the soup, which you’ll enjoy together on the couch in a couple hours. Maybe you’ll convince him to put on one of the old black and whites you love so much, and maybe he’ll complain the whole time as he kisses you, and maybe you won’t pay much attention to the movie at all.

But one thing you know for sure, is that you’ll never be afraid of him, of this huge man that you get to call yours.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/you #kylo ren imagine #modern kylo ren #biker gang au #biker!kylo #kylo ren fluff #Anonymous #cowboy answers

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ambivertwriter · 3 years

Text

ChiLi Winter Nights (Childe x Zhongli HC)

Prompt: Childe holds Zhongli’s shaking hand as they stroll through Liyue harbor on a winter night.

Both sides of a relationship being in an occupation posed quite a challenge. Seldom was there a window in both schedules that overlapped enough to spend quality time. That’s why tonight was so important to both Childe and Zhongli. Their schedules had finally, miraculously synced up to the point where they’d had an entire week to spend together.

Besides weekends, the couple rarely got to even see each other, and even on those weekends, there was still work to do from home. Childe wanted to make their week off together as special as he possibly could, but Zhongli insisted that he keep it simple. So, that’s exactly what Childe did.

From the Saturday prior to Monday, the two had travelled from Liyue to Monstadt to check up on the people, stopping by Angel’s Share to give a quick hello to Diluc as well as have a few drinks together. Too tired (or drunk) to travel back to Liyue, they ended up staying at a local inn.

On Tuesday, the two decided to take the scenic route back to Liyue, running into a few slimes and hilichurls here and there, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle. Unbeknownst to Zhongli, as he was talking to Diluc, Childe had overheard that the first winter snow would fall within the next few days. Hence why Childe insisted on taking the longer way back home. It was late at night when they’d made it to a small camp near Dragonspine. The people there were kind enough to offer a tent up to the two.

On Wednesday, they continued their journey after thanking those at the camp for their hospitality. They toughed the walk through the terrain, again, stopping every now and again to fend off slimes and other monsters. Surprisingly, they’d made it more than halfway home by that night, taking refuge in Wangshu Inn.

On Thursday, Childe pleaded that he and Zhongli stay at the Inn a day or two longer, now knowing that the first snowfall would be on Saturday, thanks to a conversation going on between two stall owners around the inn. He’d already felt the air getting a lot colder, the breeze picking up ever so slightly. Childe loved the smell of winter air, but he loved the smell of Zhongli even more. To him, both were equally comforting. Speaking of Zhongli, he had strolled up to the table Childe was sat at holding a tray with two cups of tea and two bowls of noodles and soup. As for utensils, Childe noticed that Zhongli had been kind enough to grab a pair or chopsticks for himself and a fork for Childe. The two smiled at each other, the morning sunshine creating a perfect view for each. The rest of the day went on quietly. The two had some well-deserved rest in their room after the days of travelling on foot.

On Friday, the couple set back out on their journey home. That day went by a lot smoother as there was a clear path with little to no climbing. However, towards the end of the day, to two realized that they wouldn’t be able to make it to make it to Liyue as quickly as they’d hoped. Tired from all the walking, they settled for a clearing high up on a mountain that had no way of access other than climbing. Zhongli even scouted the area before they settled for the night.

It was finally Saturday, and he could feel it in the atmosphere that the snow was sure to come by either afternoon or nightfall. He’d hoped it would be nightfall as he’d dreamed of walking through the plaza and along the harbor on a frosty night with his beloved, Zhongli’s arm draped over his shoulders, holding him closely.

It was late afternoon when the two had finally made it home. The sudden burst of adrenaline caused Childe to rush them both back to their house so they could freshen up and dress in proper clothing before night fell, knowing now that the snow would surely come no later than sunset.

After the two had showered and changed into appropriate attire, Childe practically dragged Zhongli back out onto the streets of Liyue, strolling the streets of the city to pass the time as he awaited sunset. He was sat at Su Er’niang’s food stand when Childe had felt it. He looked around to confirm it when he had seen his suspicion was true. The first snowfall of winter had arrived.

Just like a little kid at the seeing the toy cart, Childe had once again dragged Zhongli around, wanting to make the most of the night. It was about 20 minutes into their scenic walk when Childe had noticed Zhongli practically shivering, looking like an autumn leaf in the breeze. Childe had stopped the both of them to turn to Zhongli and smile. Here they were, in the center of the plaza, under the lanterns and various other lights. Childe hesitantly held his hands out for Zhongli to (hopefully) take in for warmth, to which Zhongli gladly accepted, pulling don on his hands to bring Childe in for an unexpected kiss.

When the two pulled away, Childe still held his shocked expression as Zhongli laughed at his adorable boyfriend. After having his laugh, Zhongli snapped Childe out of his dazed state, smiling. Childe finally broke out of his trance and giggled, giving Zhongli one last smooch on the cheek before carrying out the rest of their evening stroll, now hand in hand with the amazing, loving person he was blessed to call his.

------END------ That’s the end to this oneshot! I hope you like it. It’s a bit different from the usual BNHA content, but as I stated in my intro, I’m up for change once in a while. Don’t worry though, as I’ll be dropping some content for both, so keep an eye out! If you’d like a part two, a spinoff, or would like another scenario to be written out, my ask box and the comments are always open and I’m always open for suggestions!

#genshin impact imagines #genshin #genshin childe #genshin zhongli #childe x zhongli

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jungshookz · 6 years

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so in love [valentine’s day 2019]

→ summary: a series of valentine’s day themed drabbles featuring some of your favourite boys.

→ genre: a HEAPING amount of fluff (approach with caution) and a cheeky sprinkling of nsfw

→ wordcount: i don’t fckin know just enjoY the drabbles gosh darn it

→ note: i’m sorry that i couldn’t include all of the boys in the drabbles but my dang fingers probably would’ve fallen off if i did! also i,.., tried making a fic header for a first time but i’m not sure if it looks good or not?? lmao anyways happy valentine’s day!

(gifs aren’t mine!)

(((and the read more function iS there so if it doesn’t work for some reason i am sorry don’t attack me)))

ceo!yoongi

“what are you doing out of bed?? that totally just ruins the whole romantic breakfast in bed thing” you perk up when you notice yoongi step into the bedroom

“hbrushingn my teef” you murmur through a mouthful of toothpaste before bending down and spitting into the sink

you rinse quickly and wipe your mouth with the hand towel before stepping out of the bathroom and taking a look-see as to what your husband’s done for you this fine morning

“happy valentine’s day” you grin as yoongi purses his lips

you lean forward and give him a smooch

“now get bAck in bed so i can do this properly”

you hop back into bed and pull the covers up

you’re practically vibrating with excitement because a) you weren’t expecting breakfast in bed and b) you’re hunGRY

“heart-shaped pancakes. i never thought i’d live to see the day when min yoongi made heart shaped pancakes.” you tease as yoongi places the tray over your legs carefully

yoongi holds a finger up “chocolate chip heart-shaped pancakes, thank u very much”

now thAT gets you more hyped

there’s a single rose in a small vase in the upper corner

your plate in the middle holding a stack of heart-shaped pancakes (it took waY too much effort and he’s never going to do it again) ((just kidding he’s probably going to do it again)) and even the slab of butter’s been shaped into a tiny heart

a glass of chocolate milk in the other corner

all of your favouRITES

“i just realised i forgot to bring the utensils.” yoongi frowns

you grab onto his wrist before he can leave “it’s okay! i can use my hands”

“y/n, you’re not a child- oh, okay, you’re already using your hands”

“come n sit!!” you pat yoongi’s side of the bed and he sits down and crosses his legs as he faces you “thank you for breakfast!! happy valentine’s day i love u” you beam and lean over a bit to give yoongi another kiss

“happy valentine’s day. love you more.” yoongi mutters fondly and reaches over to tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear

you rip a chunk of the pancake off and pop it into your mouth and chew thoughtfully

an exclamation mark appears at the top of your head

“this is so good” you hum happily before instinctively wiping your sticky fingers on your shirt

christ

maybe breakfast in bed wasn’t such a good idea

“you better not get any syrup on the bedsheets” yoongi warns and you raise a brow before holding your sticky fingers out and wiggling them in his face

he scowls playfully and smacks your hands away before scooting closer to you

“here, i’ll feed you” he rips a heart in half and folds it in half so that he’s not touching the syrup and he holds it up for you

you wrap your fingers around his wrist as you take it into your mouth and yoongi whines in complaint “how’d you get your fingers so sticky so quickly??”

“it’s a natural talent” you swallow the bite and yoongi reaches over to wipe a droplet of syrup away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb

he swallows thickly when you take his thumb into your mouth and proceed to suck the syrup off with a happy hum

that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did

and it also shouldn’t have turned yoU on as much as it did

…

within a couple of seconds the pancakes have been abandoned and yoongi’s on top of you with his lips pressing hot kisses on your neck

your fingers curl around the cotton material of his shirt as he slides his hand under your thigh and pulls it up to rest against his side

“god, yoongi…” you breathe out and yoongi groans when you roll your hips riGht into his crotch

you’re so soft and warm and yoongi wants all of you right now

he has a finger hooked in the waistband of your panties and your hands are starting to push his briefs down and-

the two of you freeze when the baby monitor sitting on the bedside counter crackles to life and hwayoung’s cries start filling up the space of the bedroom

you both turn to look at it

yoongi lets out a quiet groan before tucking his face into the crook of your neck “so close…”

you can’t help but laugh before patting his back gently “c’mon, you. duty calls!!”

mermaid!jimin

jimin loves you with his whole ass heart already

so when he discovers that there’s a whole dAY dedicated to smothering the person you love with moRE love???

bitch??? he is HERE for that

“iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouoUoUOUoUoUOU!!!!!!!!!!” jimin murmurs into the crook of your neck as his fingers tickle your sides

this morning the bedroom is fiLLEd with the sound of you laughing (with the occasional snort thrown in there) and jimin continuously confessing his undying love for you

“jimi- oh goD you have to stop-!” you’re howling with laughter and there are tears prickling at your eyes

it tickles so much to the point that your entire body is starting to huRt

“alright, alriGht” he decides to cut it out to give you a chance to breathE and flops down on his back next to you

he’s out of breath too “can’t have you dying on me on valentine’s day”

“touché” you prop yourself up on your elbow before shifting closer and snuggling up to him

jimin pulls the covers up and wraps an arm around your waist

his fingers are tracing patterns on your bare thigh absentmindedly “so what else do people do to celebrate valentine’s day?”

“well, we can do plenty of things. we can laze around in bed all day-“

“i like that option”

“we can do… other things in bed”

jimin stops tracing patterns on your thigh and you can hear the smirk in his voice

“that option doesn’t sound half bad either” he murmurs and his finger trails up your thigh slowly

you scowl and smack his hand gently before propping yourself up on your elbow again

“but we can always start off with breakfast in bed first! how do strawberry waffles sound?”

jimin perks up and you two move on quickly from the obvious fact that later tonight y’all are probably going to break the damn bed

“ah- i like the sound of that too!!”

barista!jungkook

you’ve never been a fan of romcoms

all those cheesy cliché heart fluttering moments just don’T get to you

if someone stood on your front lawn blasting music from a boombox confessing their love for you you’d tell them to get the hell off your lawn and then you’d turn the sprinklers on

if someone chaSed after you in the airport to stop you from getting on that flight to new york city because i love you you’d scoff and purposely maintain eye contact with them as you scanned your ticket and walked through the gates

and kissing in the rain?? sounds like a monTH of eating nothing but chicken noodle soup and chugging down bottles of cough medicine

AND you hate that the prices of flowers just inflate dramatically when valentine’s day rolls around

why would you waste good money on some weeds that are just going to die in a couple of days??

anyways

you get the point

it’s a well known faCT that you have a heart of pure steel and jungkook takes pride in knowing that he’s the only one who’s able to melt all that cold steel away

hehe :~)

“a caramel macchiato for y/n?” jungkook doesn’t have to call for you as if you were just any old customer but he likes doing that because- “don’t forget about my tip, jagi”

“you are the absolute bane of my existence.” you tease but lean in anyway to give him a smooch

he hands you your coffee and that’s when you notice the sprinkling of cinnamon that’s been shaped into a heart

you look back up at jungkook and he’s grinning at you and rocking back and forth on his feet “happy valentine’s day!!!”

“happy valentine’s day, you cheeseball.”

“do i get an extra special tip for the extra special decoration?”

“u know-“ jimin squeezes in next to jungkook “i was actually the one who helped shape the heart, so i think i deserve an extra special tip too-“ jimin leans forward and purses his lips exaggeratedly and jungkook is [this] close to tackling the older boy to the ground

“don’T MOOCH OFF MY tiP u biTCH”

librarian!namjoon

“happy valentine’s day, bookworm” namjoon jumps in surprise when your arms slink around his waist and he lets out a small breath of relief before his lips tug up in a fond smile

“happy valentine’s day!” he presses a kiss to your forehead before grabbing a book from his cart and sliding it into the bookshelf

“i have a surprise for you”

“it better not be like last time when you told me you had a surprise and the surprise was that you accidentally spilled coffee all over the monitor” namjoon snorts and slides another book into place

“hey, now. that was an accident!” you’re about to pull away from him but before you get the chance to do so he quickly reaches down and grips onto your wrist to keep you in place

you scoff and prop your chin up onto his shoulder “you haven’t given me a proper kiss yet, by the way. frankly, i’m offended!”

“hold on, you whiney baby. lemme just finish doing my job first.” namjoon glances over at his almost empty book cart “you could always help me out a bit” he teases and reaches over his shoulder to pinch your nose playfully

“i can’t reach the top shelves without my trusty stepladder, so you’re going to have to take care of this on your own”

you’re reaLLy excited to give namjoon your valentine’s day gift

you ordered it back in december and it finaLLY got here last week

it’s a first edition copy of immanuel kant’s (you vaguely remember joon blabbing to you excitedly about this philosopher guy and you only remembered his name because it sounded funny to u lol) ‘critik der urtheilskraft’

“wait, before you show me the surprise-“ you’re leading namjoon back to the front desk but he stops in his tracks and yanks you backwards so that you twirl riGht into his arms “c’mere, you” he leans down and plants his lips on yours and you hum happily and wrap your arms loosely around his neck

he nudges his nose against yours after pulling away

both your guys’ cheeks are warm and rosy and you giggle before giving him another quick peck “we have plenTy of time to kiss later let me show you what i got for you!” you drag him back behind the counter before bending down and rummaging through your backpack “close your eyes and hold your hands out!!”

“i have a bad feeling about this” namjoon murmurs but does as you say

you place the book on his open palms and namjoon grimaces

“ohgodohgod what is it what is that” he whines and squeezes his eyes shut even moRe

the smile drops from your face momentarily and you scoff playfully

“it’s a bOOk you moron” you jab a finger into his chest and namjoon peels an eye open slowly before opening them both and blinking down at-

“ohHHHHHHHHH MY GODDDDDDDDDD” namjoon literally shRIEKS and you’re pretty sure your ears are bleeding “no way- how did you even- what the hel- oh my go-“

oh god

you think you broke namjoon

“,..,so i’m guessing you like the- woAH” the next thing you know namjoon’s tackling you to the ground and smothering you in kisses like an overactive puppy

if you guys were in a cartoon there would be hearts floating up and around your lovE pile

you laugh as namjoon squishes your cheeks together and gives you one big fAT kiss

how the heCK did he get so lucky to land someone like u!!!!!!!!!

demon!yoongi

yoongi really doesn’t understand you humans

first of all there was that whole mistletoe thing during christmas (which he definitely didn’t mind and deFINItely took advantage of but was still confused by the concept) ((kissing someone?? because they’re standing underneath a sprig of grass????? he appreciates it but still doesn’t get it))

and now there’s this

valentine’s day

febRuarY foUrtEenth

he can’t help but scoff to himself as he thinks about it

valentine’s day

a day where candy, flowers and gifts are exchanged between loved ones, all in the name of saint valentine

you know what valentine’s day is

it’s the negative side of capitalism

it’s become so commercialised and no one’s reaLLY celebrating it because they love their partner they’re only celebrating it because they love the idea of love

anyways

the point is

yoongi doesn’t want to celebrate valentine’s day

and he’s not going to celebrate valentine’s day

“good morning~” yoongi glances over his shoulder before rolling over onto his other side to see you coming out of the washroom

“mm.” he grumps in response and tugs the blanket up a little higher “by the way, don’t expect me to be all lovey-dovey because it’s valentine’s day. we’re still getting takeout for dinner.” yoongi flops his head back against the pillow and shuts his eyes

“alright.” you chirp in response and yoongi opens his eyes immediately

you

you didn’t even put up a fight

no protest?

yoongi props himself up on his elbow

“did you hear me?”

“loud and clear” you pull your hair up into a ponytail

“…i said we’re not celebrating valentine’s day.”

you dab some lip balm on your lips and press them together before humming “i know. i don’t care.”

listen

you can’t lie

you care a little bit

you know how weird yoongi is when it comes to humAn traditions

but then again this’ll be your first ever valentine’s day noT being single so you kinda wanted to celebrate it?? but also you’re super busy today (you have a midterm to study for so it’ll be anoTher late night at the library) and you’ll probably be too tired to do anything suPer extravagant so

it’s fine

you don’t need the chocolates or the flowers or the fancy dinner

you love yoongi and you’re pretty sure yoongi loves u (u guys haven’t actually said it to each other yet) and that’s all that matters !

meanwhile he’s still in a daze

you don’t care

you don’t.., “”””””care”””””” ???

what does that mEAN

you can’t not care

you usually care about these kinds of things!!!!!

“i’ll see you after my classes.” you prop a knee up on the bed before leaning down and giving yoongi a quick kiss “you know, it’s a good thing we’re not celebrating valentine’s day. otherwise i’d have to go out and buy all those overpriced red lacy lingerie sets and pink fuzzy handcuffs just to impress you for a night! this is great! my wallet loves this!”

yoongi isn’t even paying attention to what you’re saying because what the hell is going on

“right. yeah. valentine’s day is… we’re not doing that. like 500% not doing it.” yoongi clears his throat and waits for a second to give you one more chance to start protesting

but again

absolutely nothing from you

it’s after you leave and yoongi is left by himself that the realisation hits him

oh god

you’re going to break up with him aren’t you

that’s why you don’t want to celebrate valentine’s day is because you’re going to bREAK UP WITH HIM

what’s he going to do

where’s he going to go he can’t go back to hell and he certainly doesn’t want to live out on the streets

you guys are bound together you can’t break up with him!!!!!! are you allowed to do that??? he literally gAVE you a piece of his AURA

,.,.,.,.you’re going to break up with him and then you’re going to get together with jimin

oh HELL fuckiGN NO

yoongi immediately sprinGs out of bed

there’s no way in hELL he’s going to let that happen

“what’s the matter with you?” you snap out of your little trance when jungkook waves his hand in front of your face

“hm?”

“i’ve eaten like 98% of your fries and you haven’t made a move to stop me yet” he scowls when you smack his hand when he reaches for another fry “never mind”

“ah, it’s nothing.” you wave it off

“that’s a lie and you know it” kook points out before taking a swig of water

“it’s just… it’s valentine’s day today, y’know?” you murmur and pick at your cuticles

you didn’t think you’d care about valentine’s day and stuff but now that you’re in a relationship you.,., you wanna celebrate valentine’s day tOO :( you just wish yoongi would open up more easily to human traditions

like yeaH he’s a demon and naturally he’s the most pessimistic i-hate-the-world kinda guy but,.., u just want him to put in some effort sometimes

jungkook slowly lowers his water bottle and narrows his eyes a little “was i… was i supposed to get something for you?”

you scoff and raise an eyebrow and let your expression answer the question

jungkook lets out a small breath of relief because he deFINitely didn’t have anything prepared

he can make a rose out of your ketchup-stained napkin if you want him to

“okay, yeah, it’s valentine’s day… so… why are you so bummed out again? you’re in a relationship. i’m the single one here!”

“yoongi doesn’t do valentine’s day.” you roll your eyes at how woRKed up you’re getting over this

this morning you literally told him you didn’t care but here you are a couple hours later whining about how you’re not getting a valentine’s day celebration

you look over and see a couple snuggling up to each other

at another table a boyfriend is feeding his gal a damn chocolate covered strawberries and he even got her a bouquet of flowers!!!!

god

all these couples just ruBBing it in your face!!! DISrespectFUL

it’s odd

you’re not single but you certainly feel very single right now

you push your lunch towards kook before slumping down on the table

you’re not so hungry anymore

you feel a small tap on the top of your head and you look up

“…happy valentine’s day?” jungkook offers weakly as he holds up his makeshift rose to you

a small smile twitches at the corner of your lips and you take it from him before taking a whiff

smells like ketchup and french fry grease

“ever the romantic, aren’t you?” you sit up straight and pinch at one of the petals

“tell me something i don’t know”

meanwhile

yoongi is going crazy

he can’t recall a time in his long, long life where he’s worked as hard as he’s working now

this is what he’s been up to since his little realisation

he made the bed

he did the laundry

he took the trash out

he vacuumed the entire apartment

and now he’s starting on dinner because it’s nearly 5 o’clock and woW time goes by so quickly when you’re STRESSING THE FCUK OUT

he’s in the middle of chopping up the onions (his eyes are stinging so badly but he needs to power thru for u) when he notices something

a presence

an.,,. angelic presence.,.,,

“what do you want??” yoongi groans immediately and turns around just in time to see jimin appearing in a golden glow

“hello to you too.” jimin snorts and picks a loose thread off his silky white shirt

there’s a little heart embroidered on his chest pocket

it’s valentine’s day after all!!

“y/n’s not here - but she will be in like an houR so you need to get outta here”

“i never pegged you for the devoted, stay-at-home-and-make-dinner partner, you know” jimin teases and pushes himself up onto the kitchen island

“oh, shut the hell up” yoongi growls and jimin raises his hands in defence

“goodness. what’s the matter with you today?”

“i’m just-“ yoongi stops himself and he lets out a small breath before putting down the knife and turning around “look, it’s nothing, alright? get outta here”

“you know i’m not going to leave til you tell me what’s wrong…” jimin whistles and plops back down onto his feet before nudging yoongi to the side and taking over the role of onion dicer

yoongi steps aside and slumps against the kitchen island and stares at the back of jimin’s blonde head

“i… i’m not good at… human things, you know?”

“makes sense considering the fact you’re far from human”

“no- you know what i mean, man. and i’m especially not good at… romantic…” yoongi cringes “romantic human things.” he clears his throat “i’m not good at them like you are.” he adds quietly

jimin pauses and glances over his shoulder “huh.”

he’s never seen yoongi so insecure before

interesting

jimin picks the chopping board up and slides the diced onions into the bubbling tomato sauce before putting the board into the sink “i don’t know what you’re talking about. the whole cleaning the apartment up and making a valentine’s day dinner seems romantic enough. don’t be so hard on yourself!”

“i dunno…, i just feel like i’m screwing everything up and i really- i really, really like y/n and i don’t want her to feel like she’s.. stuck with someone like me for the rest of her life and stuff… am i making sense? like, i don’t want her to-“ jimin already stopped listening to yoongi like a good thirty seconds ago

he think it’s endearing how obviously whiPPEd yoongi is for you even though he’ll never admit it

jimin holds a finger out and yoongi trails off slowly before raising a brow in confusion

“-i’m willing to offer my services from the goodness of my heart.”

yoongi narrows his eyes and immediately feels jealousy prickling at his skin

“..,what kinda services.,.,.,. there’s no way i’m sharing y/n with you just because it’s valentine’s day i’m not going to give y/n the giFT of a threESOME you perv-“

“i was talking about sprucing up the romantic factor in the apartment, you idiot.” jimin snorts “sure, you vacuumed, you dusted, but you didn’t even put any decorations up! how’s y/n supposed to know about your romantic intentions?? and also, look at what you’re wearing!! that’s not appropriate valentine’s day attire” yoongi looks down at his t-shirt and grey sweats

right

“what am i supposed to wear?” yoongi furrows his brows and looks at jimin’s outfit “i’m not wearing anything like what you’re wearing”

“you can’t pull off silk anyway.” jimin purses his lips “i’ll figure it out for you, don’t worry about it!”

yoongi clears his throat “you’re doing this for free?”

“only because i like y/n and i think she deserves a nice valentine’s day. now - you stay here and work on dinner, and let me work my magic.”

yoongi lets out a breath after jimin leaves the kitchen

he sure hopes jimin knows what he’s doing

“you sure you don’t wanna come over to my place and binge-watch bad romcoms??” jungkook swings his backpack over his shoulder and you laugh lightly before shaking your head

“as tempting as that sounds, yoongi’s probably waiting for me at home. we’re getting takeout for dinner and his favourite chinese restaurant closes in like an hour so i better get my ass home otherwise he’s going to be gruMpy for not getting his orange chicken, you know him”

“alright, well… happy valentine’s day!!” jungkook’s been trying to cheer you up all day and you keep insisting that you’re over it but he’s you best friend and he can tell you’re still a tiNy bit upset about it

as you sit on the bus back home you can’t help but let your mind wander

what if you and yoongi had celebrated valentine’s day tonight

where would he take you? what would he wear?

the thought of yoongi wearing a crisp tux makes your heart flutter

and then you remember his obscenely mint-green hair and that paired with the suit makes you giggle for some reason

also.,.,,. not to be that person..,., but you can’t help but feel like valentine’s day sex would be a loT more intense than normal sex

you feel your cheeks redden and you quickly shake the thought off

look

no use getting hyped up over something that’s not going to happen

at the end of the day yoongi still makes you happy and that’s all that matters

you settle back against the chair and check the time on your watch

ooF

looks like you won’t be getting chinese takeout tonight

“i know i’m late but hopefully you’re willing to forgive me if i order us an extra large pepperoni-“ the moment you open the door to your apartment you immediately notice that something is wrong

well

not necessarily wrong

something’s different

you take a couple cautious steps forward and narrow your eyes “…yoongi?”

you don’t hear anything in response but you take this moment alone to take in the atmosphere

what the hell

is this your apartment “yoongi…”

..,.,did u walk into the wrong apaRtment

there are lit candles everywhere (they’re the ones you used to summon yoongi with lol)

the lights are dimmed

there’s.,,. classical music playing from your bluetooth speakers

what the hell is going on

you’re about to call out for yoongi again but then you hear someone clear their throat and you whip around quickly

your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets

heLLO

woW yoongi looks good

he’s wearing a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up

his shirt’s tucked into a pair of blue jeans

and did he

this bitch is wearing cologne

for the first time in forever

yoongi looks

nervous

min yoongi?? nervous??

“what are you-“

“this is for you” yoongi stammers and thrusts a bouquet of roses into your hands

“i-“

“i-i made dinner too” yoongi points over your shoulder and you turn around to see the dining room table all spruCed up

there are two plates of spaghetti sitting across from each other

a candle burning away in the middle of the table

he even brought your nice wine glasses out

you turn back around to face yoongi and he has his lips pressed together looking like he’s waiting for you to say something

you set the bouquet down on the coffee table “i thought you were too good for the whole valentine’s day thing.” you tease gently in hopes that he’ll loosen up a bit because he’s literally sO nervous it’s kind of scary

yoongi lets out a breath and runs his hand through his hair “i mean… at first i didn’t think we needed to celebrate valentine’s day because i didn’t think i needed to prove that i love you through fancy dinners and flowers n stuff-“ yoongi looks down and picks at the dry skin around his fingernails nervously and he looks up to see you with a megAwatt smile on your face “…..what”

you shrug casually and take a couple steps closer to him with a pleased smile on your face

yoongi lets out a small groan “what?? you know i hate guessing games.” yoongi doesn’t budge as you wrap your arms around his neck

of course his arms snake around your waist instinctively

“seriously, what?” he pouts and you give his bottom lip a lil kiss

“you love me” you whisper

yoongi furrows his brows “…yeah no dUH i thought that was pretty obvious considering the fact i slaved away all day tryna give you the beSt valentine’s day ever-“

“say it again” you grin adoRAbly and yoongi is reminded of how TRULY w h i p p e d he is for you

yoongi clears his throat and rolls his eyes when you reach up and tap your ear as if you can’t hear him

“i love you… you needy, whiney, attention-seeking little human.”

“love u too you literal spawn of satan”

yoongi didn’t know why he was so worried you were going to break up with him

he knows he has you wrapped around his pinky finger

but he’s probably wrapped tiGhter around youR pinky finger if we’re being real

after dinner and dessert (yoongi made chocolate covered strawberries) you head upstairs to wash up real quick and you’re surprised to see a white box sitting on your bed tied up with a pretty red bow

huh

what is this

you approach it cautiously before peeling the little sticky note off the top

‘you can thank me later. happy valentine’s day!’ you raise your brow at the sticky note and yelp in surprise when it suddenly disappears and fades into sparkles- oHhHHHHhh now all of this makes sense

you knEW yoongi couldn’t fold the napkins into little swans without jimin’s help

it’s the thought that counts tho so you still appreciate it

you tug at the bow gently and pull the top off to reveal a lingerie set

you gasp at how pretty it is as you pull it out

jimin has good taste

it’s a practically see-through baby doll dress and it’s a smoky grey colour (kinda matches yoongi’s hair)

triangle lace cups

an empire waist with a shiny satin bow around it

and of course you can’t forget about the matching thong

you let out a quiet squeal of excitement and clutch it to your chest

“yoongi?”

“gimme a second, jagi. i’m almost done with the dishes…” yoongi pokes his tongue out in concentration as he scrubs at a particular stubborn stain in the metal pot

he can’t help but wonder if jimin would be willing to help out with the dishes too

“yoongi…”

“one second, yeah?” he glances over his shoulder to acknowledge you and-

o fuk

yoongi immediately freezes and his mouth goes dry

he was certainly not expecting that

he clears his throat and turns back around

he reaches over and turns the tap off and sets the pot down in the sink gently

jimin really is an angel

you have your bottom lip tucked in between your teeth to keep yourself from bursting into giggles

yoongi dries his hands on a cloth before turning around and leaning against the sink and giving you a quick nod “c’mere, baby.”

you make your way over to him and his grip tightens on the edge of the counter

you look so good and he’s literally -1 seconds away from ripping that off of u

“happy valentine’s day.” you murmur with a small smirk and reach up to pop one of the buttons on his shirt

…,,..,yoongi wants everyday to be valentine’s day

694 notes · View notes

buttsonthebeach · 5 years

Text

The Turning of the Year

@scharoux did me the honor once again of asking me to write about Rhaella, and this time I got to write about my favorite seasons EVER at the same time! Hurray for fall and fluff! Thank you as always dear friend <3

My Ko-Fi || My Commissions (Slots currently open as of 10/16/19)

Other pieces about Rhaella I have written include:

1. All Things Green and Growing

2. The Long Road Back (**this new piece takes place the closest in time to this one)

3. The Same Kind of Scar

4. World Without End

5. The Last Game Pt. 1, the Last Game Pt. 2, and the Last Game Pt. 3 (contains explicit content)

Pairing: Solas x Rhaella Lavellan

Rating: Teen for some smooches and vague sexual references

**********************

Fall had come to Skyhold. Rhaella could see it from her balcony. They'd struggled to the castle through the last, vicious winter snows, and then they had melted away into a delicate spring, and at some point it had become summer, hotter than she had expected, muggier. It seemed like every time she left for a mission she returned to a different season, like Skyhold was a person who wore many faces, like she would never really know it. Then she managed to stay long enough - bogged down in preparations for their march to the Arbor Wilds - that she saw fall creep over the peaks and valleys surrounding it, one pinprick of color against grey slate at a time. First a flash of orange, and then red, and then the whole mountain was that riot of color she associated with her favorite season. The heat of summer was melting away and while some members of the Inquisition grumbled about it, Rhaella sought out the chill, relishing the gooseflesh it raised all over her skin.

That was how she found herself standing on the balcony, with a blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders, admiring the waves of color proceeding down the mountain into Ferelden like the folds of a woman's gown, realizing that this would be the first fall that she did not celebrate Soulsday.

It was her favorite holiday - the one she had the most cherished girlhood memories of, the time many of her best memories of her parents hailed from. There'd be the same chill in the air, the same dazzling colors, the smell of woodsmoke and the snap of dried twigs underfoot. Her mother always made the best dolls out of those dried twigs, and the clan elders would do the same, except they would use them to tell stories of the Creators by firelight, and all of them knew they would culminate in the ultimate story on Soulsday itself: the tale of Fen'Harel. The hunters would go out for long hunts on those chilly days, catching enough food for the feast to come. It was around Soulsday that Rhaella's father first let her try her own small bow, began teaching her how to anchor the arrow to the corner of her lip and to keep her elbow down.

The rest of the clan would busy themselves with gathering the gourds and squash growing in patches - skin thick and colored bright orange, pale yellow, and green, covered in strange knobs that all the children would touch and squeal over, that teenagers teased each other about because they so resembled the blemishes covering their faces, or the faces of the old. They hollowed them out, roasted and ate the meat and seeds alike, and then the most skilled among them began to carve them into scenes from their history, or the faces of gods and demons. Maybe that was the thing that had recalled those nights to her most clearly - the taste of the squash, sweet and smoky and soft. They’d had it in a soup in the great hall the night before. Maybe that was why she stood on the balcony reimagining all of these scenes, replaying them.

They would never play again in real life. Rhaella’s clan was dead now. The words still hurt to think, but that was a good thing. It was a pain she deserved. It was hero own fault, after all. She only hoped she would do better by the Inquisition.

Rhaella watched two birds wheeling in the sky - hawks perhaps - and thought of her flight from Skyhold. How she’d sought to protect the Inquisition from her failures, how she’d been so certain it was the right thing to do. How Solas had gone and brought her back. They’d shared a night alone in the Emerald Graves then, bodies pressed close, breaths coming harsh, but no barriers has been crossed. Whatever his reservations were about crossing it, she respected them. But standing there, alone on the balcony, she wished suddenly that he was there. Sidling up behind her, perhaps, having just woken up from the bed they both shared. Sliding underneath the blanket she had around her shoulders, his chest still bare, the two of them sharing each other’s warmth while they looked out over the gold-lined mountains and the brilliant trees.

Rhaella shook herself from her reverie. It wasn’t an impossible dream. They were both here in Skyhold, both in the same holding pattern of waiting for troops and trebuchets and letters from the Orlesians pledging aid. She was Inquisitor. If she declared she was taking a day to train outside the fortress with her most experienced mage, no one would question it. Or, if they did question it, they would not do so to her face. She went back into her room, the matter decided. It was her favorite time of year. She would spend it with the person she loved the most, away from all of this. She deserved that much. He would tell her so himself, silencing the little voice that tried to say otherwise, snaking like a thin trail of smoke through her mind.

“Soulsday?” Solas asked, an eyebrow quirked, when she came and found him.

“Surely you’ve heard of it.”

“Only a little. It shall be an opportunity for you to educate me further.”

“Well, I suppose the first thing I should mention is that it’s actually later in fall. After the equinox and the harvest, just as the days start to grow short. But we will likely be on the road to the Arbor Wilds by then, and all that really matters to me is that it feels like fall now. Well, and I’ve seen patches of squash and gourds further down the mountain, and they look ripe enough for our purposes. That’s important, too.”

Solas raised his eyebrows further.

“Has Dorian had it wrong all this time? Will we be dancing naked in a patch of gourds rather than surrounded by flowers?”

Rhaella laughed. “Only if you want to. I have to say that isn’t part of the Soulsday tradition.”

Solas smiled. He shifted so their bodies were closer as they both leaned against his desk. Not quite touching, but close enough to thrill.

“I look forward to learning the rest, vhenan. May I have an hour or so to wrap up what I am doing here?”

“Of course. I need to gather a few things anyway.”

Her gathering consisted of going to the kitchen and requesting two canteens filled with apple cider they’d just imported from Ferelden, plus a few actual apples besides; a bundle of cinnamon sticks; two small, sharp paring knives as well as two sturdy metal spoons; four small beeswax candles; and some of their usual trail mix to tide them over, along with cheese and peppered salami. Her last addition was two hand pies that the cook insisted she take, which she said were filled with spiced apples and currants and dried cranberries. They were an Orlesian delicacy, not something that would remind her of home at all, but they smelled divine, and Rhaella could not say no.

That done, she went to the great hall to wait for Solas. He emerged from the rotunda dressed warmly, wrapped in dark green and brown woolen clothes that she was sure would give Vivienne, Dorian, and Leliana a fright if they saw them. True, they were simple, and ragged at the edges, but there was something about those very qualities that soothed and endeared Rhaella to him. He was formidable in his armor, especially the newest set Harritt and Dagna had made for the journey to the Temple of Mythal, but this made him look more at ease. She wanted to hug him at once, breathe in the smell of wool and him.

“Inquisitor,” he said, smooth and professional, when he reached her. They were in public, after all.

“Let’s go,” she said, and they set off together down the great staircase and across the courtyard, to where their harts were saddled and ready for them.

They rode down the gray stone path that led away from Skyhold and Rhaella breathed in deep, drawing as much of the crisp air into her lungs as she could. This high up in the mountains, you could already taste the frost on your tongue. Fall would be shorter here than it was back in the Free Marches. She would need to enjoy it while she could.

There was always the chance that this would be her last fall, after all. Who knew what Corypheus had in store. There was no guarantee that she would succeed. She had already failed Clan Lavellan after all.

Rhaella clenched her left hand, though the Anchor was quiet in her palm, though Solas had told her over and over again that she should not give in to the snarling voice in her head that wanted to lay those deaths at her feet. Today would not be about those thoughts. Today would only be about the season that she had always loved, and the man she had grown to love.

“Where are we headed?” Solas asked. The difference in his voice when they were alone was subtle but it was there - the softening of it, the warmth. They weren’t Inquisitor and Fade expert here. They just were, the same way the mushrooms crowding in the underbrush on either side of the road were.

“There’s a grove I noticed on our last trip back from the Storm Coast,” Rhaella said. “There was a patch of vines that I think might have grown some fall squash now. Pumpkins, maybe.”

“Ah. I think I know the one, and I agree. It did look like that sort of vine.”

A smile tugged on the edges of Rhaella’s lips. It was one of the first things they’d bonded over, after all - their shared love of the natural world. Of course he’d noticed the same thing she had.

The grove was not far - only an ambling twenty minute ride away - but it was around a bend in the road, nestled in-between two high cliffs, so that you could not see Skyhold at all, and that made it feel a world away. It was as grand as the castle Rhaella’s forces called home, for all that it was only a grove; tall pines marked the entrance to it, defiantly green in the face of the mountain chill and the change of seasons. Interspersed between them were scarlet maple trees. She dismounted, and, not even bothering to tether Thistle breathed in the smell of damp, loamy earth, the sharp herby notes of the elfroot that had sprung up between all of it. Solas dismounted near her, and came to stand close, not quite touching.

“It is lovely here,” she said. “I was just thinking how this is as grand as Skyhold, in its own way.”

Solas smiled, though it did not quite reach his eyes.

“Our people would have agreed, in ancient times. They lived intertwined with nature in a way that I think even the Dalish do not understand. If they had built a house here, it would have been part of these very trees, this very earth, instead of simply resting within it.”

“I see,” Rhaella said, arching an eyebrow. “Shall I show you how we Dalish live within nature, then?”

Solas’s cheeks were already pinked by the cold, but she suspected some of it was shame, as he turned from her and began to tether his own mount.

“Yes, you shall.”

Their harts tethered, they went further into the grove. Solas took her hand as they walked. It was almost cold enough that she regretted not wearing gloves, but the feeling of his palm against hers, warm and calloused, was well worth it. Soon the trees parted and the patch of vines was visible, and Rhaella’s hopes were rewarded: it had yielded three perfect pumpkins, untouched by any frost, still vibrantly orange and plump.

“Oh, these are perfect,” she said as they drew close to them, running their hands over the leathery skin.

“Should I start building a cooking fire?” Solas asked.

“No. We won’t be cooking them. I brought other food for us. But a small fire for warmth would be perfect.”

Solas looked curious, but he did as he was told. Rhaella harvested the three pumpkins while he worked, cutting them free of their thick, prickly vines and setting them up neatly in a row. One was taller than the rest - exactly the sort the hahrens would choose to carve a more dramatic scene. Perhaps Mythal rising up into the form of a dragon, or Elgar’nan raining his wrath down from the skies, or Fen’Harel howling with glee, the Creators trapped in a prison above him. The other two were fatter and wider, the sort they would give to the younger craftsmen of the clan to do a simpler image - perhaps a halla with its curving horns, or the pattern of vallaslin, or the leering face of a demon.

Behind Rhaella, the fire crackled to life, filling the grove with the scent of woodsmoke. It already clung to Solas’s clothes and she breathed deep when he sat beside her, drinking it in.

“What are we to do with these, then?” Solas asked.

“We’re going to carve them and put a candle inside when we are finished. My clan used to have dozens of these carved and ready by Soulsday. They’d light up the whole camp with images from myth and legend and history, and demons and spirits besides. The idea is that Soulsday is when the Veil grows thinnest, when our ancestors can peer through and see us, and these lanterns guide them here. Even the Creators are able to look down from their prison on that day, and we want them to know that we have not forgotten their names or their stories.”

Rhaella found herself leaning in to Solas as she talked, looking up at the pale blue sky above them. His arm was around her waist, his thumb tracing idle circles there. The rest of his body was oddly tense, as though he had not fully relaxed into the embrace.

“Of course, if they can see us, and so can our ancestors, Fen’Harel can as well. So we also carve the faces of terrifying demons and put them around the perimeter of the camp, trying to ward him off. I was thinking this shorter pumpkins on the left and right would be good for one of those faces. The taller one is good for a more intricate scene, although I don’t know if I have the skill to do one justice. What do you think?”

Solas was quiet a moment, his body remaining still and tense. Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, the kind that made her whole body shiver.

“Whatever you would like to do, my heart.”

“Let’s do one of each,” Rhaella said after a moment’s thought. “Something to scare away the bad things, something to attract an ancestor, and something to honor the past.”

“Very well.”

They had to break apart to have enough room to work. Rhaella spread out a blanket and they sat on opposite ends of it, their feet brushing one another’s, the pumpkins they’d selected in the space between them.

“I will work on one to frighten away your Fen’Harel,” Solas had said, taking one of the smaller pumpkins and one of the exquisitely sharp knives Rhaella had borrowed from the kitchen.

“I’ll do one to guide my parents,” Rhaella said.

It was what she did every year - what she and her father had done together in the years after her mother died. She felt bad sometimes that she usually only had the time to do one. Other families within the clan - larger ones, with siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles - could do whole groups of pumpkins so that the area surrounding their aravels blazed with light. If there was an afterlife, their ancestors would surely have no trouble finding their way home. She hoped the one small candle she lit every year was enough to guide her parents back.

She and Solas worked quietly together for a while. Rhaella got up at one point and went to her pack to retrieve their trail mix, cheese, and salami, and lay it out for both of them to enjoy. She watched Solas work out of the corner of her eye as she did so. She always loved to observe him when he was at his least guarded. She knew those moments were precious, meant only for her, that the way he dropped his guard when they were alone was one of the deepest signs of his love for her. She did not need to know why he carried his guard so high in the first place to know that.

He looked very serious as he carved, the way he did when he was painting. His eyebrows were knit close together and he chewed on his bottom lip from time to time as he regarded his canvas, treating it with no less care than he treated the walls of his rotunda, where he painted the story of her time as Inquisitor. There was a similar heaviness in his shoulders, the set of his jaw. As if he considered this as important and as permanent.

“What are you thinking?” She asked at last, passing him a canteen of cider.

He took a drink before answering.

“That the Dalish belief of what would frighten Fen’Harel is an odd one. He is the Bringer of Nightmares, and yet the face of a demon is meant to ward him off?”

“Not just one demon. The whole clan helps carve all of these. There would a ring surrounding the entire camp on Soulsday. If a clan can command the loyalty of that many demons, Fen’Harel probably should be afraid. But it’s all superstition anyway.”

Solas nodded, his lips still pursed. Rhaella tried to lean over and see what he was carving, but he pulled the pumpkin protectively closer.

“Ah - not yet. Wait until I am finished.”

“Fine,” Rhaella sighed, adding a dramatic weariness to the word. It made Solas smile, and that warmed her from head to toe.

For her part, she worked on a variation of a design she had done many times since her parents died. A wreath of prophet’s laurel, and a bow and arrow in the middle. The natural world, the plants and medicine she’d learned from her mother, and the hunting she’d learned from her father. They were gifts she still used to that day. If they could see this offering - and she hoped they did - she hoped that they knew that.

Our time together was short, she thought as she worked. But you taught me well. Maybe it’s better that you didn’t live to see these times. If you had been among the dead of Clan Lavellan -

She would not have been able to stand that. Nothing Solas could have said when he pursued her would have worked.

The day wore on as they carved, each enjoying the silence, each stealing glances at one another. They paused now and again to enjoy the food Rhaella had brought, though she saved the hand pies as a secret treat. It turned out that Solas had brought the small cooking pot he took with him on the road, so they were able to heat up the cider she’d gotten from the kitchen and enjoy it warm from the small tin cups he always carried. Rhaella put a cinnamon stick in each one, and the air was rich with the scent of that warm spice, along with the anise and clove that the chefs had used to prepare it. Solas let out a quiet exhale of enjoyment after his first sip that made Rhaella curl her toes. They so rarely got these moments. She wanted to commit every bit of it to memory.

Rhaella finished her carving first. Solas, ever the artist, insisted on going over every detail a second time before he allowed her to see his work. When at last he turned his pumpkin around so she could see, her breath caught in her throat. He’d carved the face of a Pride demon, so real, so covered in crags, that a chill passed through her. Its six eyes seemed to stare directly into her, and the sneer of its lip captured the essence that it embodied.

“Well done, vhenan,” she said finally.

Solas shrugged. “Of all the demons, it seemed the most likely to frighten Fen’Harel.”

Something was bothering him. Rhaella could sense it, even if she could not put her finger directly on it, could not identify the exact source. She walked over to him, sat behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist. It was the reverse of what she had imagined that morning on the balcony - her comforting him with the weight of her body, rather than him slipping in behind her.

“Then I am confident he will not bother us tonight,” she said. A little chill ran down her spine at her own words. The implication there, the idea that they could spend the night here in this grove, undisturbed, just the two of them and the autumn stars above, the whistle of the wind in the pine trees.

Solas said nothing in reply. He only leaned his head against hers. She turned and kissed his jaw, and then the pulsepoint just behind it, felt his sharp intake of breath, the way he always melted into her when she showed him tenderness. She kissed him on his neck, felt the gooseflesh rise on his skin. She tightened the hold of her arms around his waist and just held him, and he let her.

“You’re a much better carver than I am,” she murmured finally. “You should do the big pumpkin.”

“We shall do it together. You must instruct me in what I shall carve.”

“Well, we’ve done one for my ancestors, and one to keep the Dread Wolf at bay. We should do one to honor the Creators, for the sake of tradition.”

Solas played with his carving knife, idly twisting it this way and that. “Mythal, then?”

“That’s what I was thinking. Sometimes we’d just do their vallaslin or some other object related to them, and sometimes it would be a scene from one of their stories.”

Solas nodded, drawing the last uncarved pumpkin closer to them and studying it, turning it this way and that, probably looking for the flattest, smoothest side of that.

“I have an idea,” he said. “But you have a very important job while I work. You must tell me stories of the Soulsdays of your youth. And you must not move from where you are right now.”

Rhaella felt warm from the tips of her toes to the crown of her feet at his words. She buried her face against the back of his neck, and he chuckled, and she felt the sound vibrate through her whole body.

She did exactly as he asked, talking while he worked. Her memories were not always happy ones - certainly not after her parents died, after the isolation set in - but she found the light where she could. She left her place behind him only once, to his joking admonishment, to retrieve the apples she’d brought and cut them up so they could eat while he carved. Sometimes she went quiet and watched him. His movements were deft and sure, and though it was chilly in the grove, he paused to roll up the sleeves of his sweater, baring his forearms. She could see the muscles working there as he expertly carved away pieces of the orange skin, sometimes just exposing the membranes beneath, other times carving all the way through. He’d already cut off the top and hollowed it out, of course. They’d tossed all their seeds near the patch, and Rhaella imagined that if they came back a year from now, there’d be another patch of pumpkins, and they could carve even more. It would be their secret, their tradition.

I’d have to survive another year for that to happen.

“Are you well?” Solas asked, pausing and turning just enough to see her out of the corner of his eye. She must have stiffened, or gone quiet for too long.

“Yes. I was just thinking about the seeds we threw over there. About whether or not they’d take root by this time next year. About whether or not we’d be here together ever again.”

She regretted the words as they were leaving her mouth. They rarely, if ever, spoke of the future. Too many things were uncertain, unknown. But Solas simply set down his carving knife, put the pumpkin gently aside, and turned to her, cupping her face with his hands. He smelled sweet, like the pumpkin itself, and his hands were sticky, but Rhaella loved both of those things. They grounded her in the here, in the now, in the present moment.

“It does not matter where we are a year from now or a hundred years from now,” he said. “The spirits will remember the memories we have made here today. I swear it.”

And then he kissed her, full on the mouth, deeply, his breath shuddering out of him as he parted her lips with his own. Rhaella made a helpless, pleased little sound against his mouth, and he returned it. They were both off balance, fell quickly backwards, with little grace, but that did not matter because Solas was warm and heavy on top of her, and Rhaella never wanted to let him go.

They did pull apart eventually, both sensing that precipice that they had not crossed yet. Solas’s pupils were blown wide, his eyes dark as a winter sky, his lips pink and swollen from the intensity of their kiss.

“Another memory for the spirits?” Rhaella asked, surprised how breathy she sounded.

Solas smiled. “I think I shall ask if we can keep that one for ourselves.”

They rearranged themselves, finished the carving of the pumpkin. It was a marvelous thing - the top part covered in the intertwining branches of Mythal’s most elaborate vallaslin, with a pair of eyes beneath it - her own, Rhaella realized with a shock that curled and uncurled in the pit of her belly, a racing, excited feeling. No one had ever memorialized her like this before. Beneath that was a statue like they’d seen in their travels - a woman with wings instead of arms, and at her feet, a wolf standing guard.

“This is the most marvelous thing I have ever seen,” Rhaella murmured. She looked around, took in the waning daylight. They’d been here longer than she intended, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel guilty. She needed this. “Shall we light them?”

They arranged all three in a row, put in the beeswax candles she had brought, and lit them. They glowed at once with life, that same magic she remembered from childhood, all the more mysterious because she could not explain it with theories of the Veil or the Fade. How was it that flickering orange light took this hollowed out pumpkin and made it seem to breathe, to live again? How was it that after all of these years she could still almost believe that the glow would draw the good things home again, and keep the bad things at bay?

It was just dark enough now that fireflies had emerged in-between the trees, winking at one another like stars that had come to earth. Solas put his arm around her waist and kissed the crown of her head.

“This is a lovely tradition,” he said. “I hope -”

He did not speak his hope aloud, but Rhaella felt it there between them like a third person. Like a ghost, or a spirit. He did not have to speak it aloud. That was the magic of this night. Not the supposed thinness of the Veil, but the lights amidst the coming darkness. The way they faithfully sent each hope and memory into the cold night air in trails of smoke - the way they winked and fluttered but did not go out.

Rhaella and Solas stood there until night had truly fallen, sipping cider, enjoying the Orlesian pies, watching the fireflies and the shifting red leaves on the maple trees, surrounded by hope and light. Then they put out the candles and packed up their things and rode home under the stars, feeling lighter themselves than they had when they left that morning - feeling ready for whatever was to come.

#beach does commissions #beach writes #rhaella lavellan #scharoux #rhaella x solas #solavellan #solavellan fanfic #dragon age fanfic

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imaginecoderealize · 6 years

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What would be everyone's reaction to suddenly finding themselves under the mistletoe with the person they have a crush on?

I am sorry for not getting to these out on Christmas Day. I tried, but the holiday was busier and my niece’s jolly holiday gift of a cold made me more sluggish than I expected. I will get to the rest in the queue ASAP!

These are a little long all together, so they are going under a cut. Mod Apostle covered the Gang, while Mod Nautilus is smooching villains!

Mod Apostle’s headcanons:

Lupin:

Lupin thought the tradition of kissing under mistletoe was terribly romantic and made sure to hang bunches strategically around the mansion. He was careful not to get caught himself, but he enjoyed watching his confused friends getting kissed. He laughed until he cried when Saint kissed Van. Van’s shocked expression was priceless.

Lupin himself thought he was immune to the prank. He knew where all the bunches were, after all.

He was standing in the foyer when he felt a hand on his shoulder and smelled a familiar sweet perfume.

He turned and saw her, the girl he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. He didn’t know she was coming. His heart skipped a beat to see her after so long. She was so beautifully dressed in her holiday velvet gown with her hair falling soft around her shoulders. He was uncharacteristically tongue tied, but gathered himself and greeted her formally.

She said good afternoon with an amused sparkle in her beautiful eyes, and without warning, slipped her hand behind his head and pulled his lips to hers.

It took a moment for Lupin’s head to catch up with what was happening, but luckily his heart needed no such instruction. He pulled her close and gave her an ardent, gentle kiss. Her heart beat fast against his chest and her pretty face was flushed when he finally pulled away.

He heard a light laugh above his head and they both looked up to see a bunch of mistletoe suspended on a string. Standing on the staircase above were Saint and Impey with identical mischievous smiles on their faces.

Lupin silently thanked his meddling friends and pulled his lady tightly against his chest, “Merry Christmas.” he said softly, and once again pressed his lips to hers.

….

Van:

Van was only vaguely aware of the tradition of mistletoe before his foolishly romantic friends started hanging the stuff everywhere in the mansion. He didn’t see the appeal In such a thing. It was just an excuse for people to make fools of themselves.

So why was he sitting there staring moodily at his drink and thinking about it?

He dismissed it from his mind. He would not participate in such nonsense. It didn’t matter if…

Van saw her speaking with Delacroix. The girl who caught his eye every time she walked in the room. Her gentle figure and strong spirit captivated him. He was content to watch her, and enjoy listening to her lovely voice. Just her presence made his burdens seem lighter.

He watched her walk towards him with a bright smile on her face.

He gave her his customary wave. No, he would not try to get her under the mistletoe. He was an adult man, not some infatuated boy.

She walked up and greeted him warmly. He couldn’t help but smile just to see her up close. Her modest gown suited her well. She was truly a beautiful woman.

He rose and bowed to her, as was only proper. He offered to get her a drink, and she accepted graciously.

He would certainly not do anything stupid.

He returned with drinks but saw that she was now speaking with Duke Renfield near the entryway…

Under the blasted mistletoe.

He waited for the Duke to depart before approaching her with the drinks. He tried to forget the bunch of plants over their heads as they chatted. It was irrelevant… even if her lips looked very soft stained with sweet wine, and her face radiant with happiness… was she so happy to speak with him? His heart seemed to be beating too fast. Perhaps just a single kiss would be all right…

He leaned close and their lips met. She gasped a little but answered him with surprising hunger. He slid his arm around her back, forgetting for the moment that they were surrounded by revelers who were watching the proceedings with great interest and amusement.

“Should we arrange a room for you two?” Duke Renfield asked with a laugh.

Van pulled away quickly. He was sure his face was as red as his lady’s. He cleared his throat, “It is just traditional…” he muttered, pointing at the mistletoe. He fervently hoped Delacroix was elsewhere…

“Ha ha! You told Impey that mistletoe was stupid!” Delacroix laughed, throwing his arms around the two of them, “wait til I tell him, Helsing!”

Van took a deep breath. The young man was a king. It would not do to punch him, even if he deserved it.

He gave his lady a rueful smile. He could still see desire in her eyes and feel the imprint of her lips on his. He supposed mistletoe wasn’t so bad after all.

….

Fran:

Fran was working late, as usual. Patients’ problems didn’t stop, even on Christmas.

He sighed as he mixed the last vial of medicine. A baby with a fever had kept both Fran and the child’s parents up all night. He felt like throwing himself in bed and sleeping for a week.

He gazed sadly at the invitation he’d received to the party at Saint’s mansion. He had sent word earlier that he couldn’t make it, but it made him feel lonely. He would see everyone tomorrow, but it wasn’t quite the same. He wished he could have asked… no, he certainly couldn’t do that. She would definitely not accept…

He heard a knock on the door.

He sighed again and did his best to slap himself awake, hoping fervently that it wasn’t another feverish baby. He opened the door.

It wasn’t an anxious parent, but a girl he was very pleased to see, though he wished he didn’t feel so run down. She was wrapped tightly in her coat and carrying a festive package. She greeted him and handed him the package, saying it was a token of her appreciation for the care of her father.

The sight of her sweet face revived him as nothing else would have. He mustered the best smile he could and thanked her for her kindness.

She noticed his exhaustion, of course. She was always caring and observant. She insisted on staying and fixing him some soup and he opened his gift of her handmade cookies and sweetbreads. He listened to her lively voice and sipped strong tea until he was finished his meal.

When she finally took her leave they stood dithering on the doorstep, she took his hands in hers and jokingly asked if he had kissed all his patients that day and if that was a healthy practice.

He was confused as to her meaning, so she pointed up to the doorframe.

A bunch of mistletoe was hung from a nail over the door. He certainly didn’t put it there.

He looked down at her expectant face and felt as if he had caught the baby’s fever.

“Ah, that… I didn’t put that there… um…” this was too embarrassing.

She giggled and pulled his head down to hers to kiss him.

He froze in a panic. The feel of her lips on his filled him with a rush of emotions and feelings he wasn’t prepared for in his frazzled, exhausted state.

She gave him a smile and wished him good night before turning to go.

“Wait!” he shouted, grabbing her hand.

He pulled her to him and, holding her close, he lifted her chin and leant down to kiss her gently. She clutched his coat, moaning a little as she leant into the kiss.

They were both breathless when he pulled away.

“Will you come with me to the party tomorrow?” he asked her, feeling unprecedentedly bold.

She agreed immediately, much to his relief. He felt a lot happier when she finally took her leave. His loneliness forgotten. He would be sure to get plenty of rest before tomorrow. He couldn’t disappoint his sweetheart.

….

Impey:

Impey was hard at work in the kitchen preparing for the holiday feast. He already finished the entrees and appetizers. Now all that was left was the desserts. He found a new recipe for brandy fudge and was giving the sticky, warm chocolate a taste test when he heard someone enter the kitchen.

“Hey! No samples before dinner! Licking the spoon is the privilege of the chef!” he cried, looking back to see who entered his domain.

A beautiful lady stood in the doorway still dressed in her overcoat. Her bright eyes were shining. He didn’t know she was coming to the party so early. He would have gladly given her the whole bowl of fudge if it made her happy, but she just gave him a smile and left too quickly for him to offer.

Feeling excited to see her again, he finished up and went to change his shirt before taking the dishes to the dining room. A vigorously boiling pot had splattered sauce over his sleeve and it wouldn’t do for his lovely angel to see him in such a dilapidated state.

He turned a corner towards his room when he saw her outside the door, hanging up her overcoat. She was wearing a golden gown that left a surprising amount of her uncovered. He stopped in the hallway and stared. Then he saw it… the bunch of mistletoe over her head. Was she waiting for him there on purpose? Or was it just a stroke of amazing luck? That passionate plant offering its blessing to kiss this divine vision before him.

He bounded towards her excitedly, afraid she would move away and the moment would be lost.

But then a moment of hesitation entered his heart… what if she didn’t want it?

She turned to him with a smile and that was enough to tell him that she didn’t object. He swept her in his arms and kissed her gently, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas.” she said, and leant in to kiss him back sweetly, licking his lips before pulling away, “Is it all right to sample the chef before dinner?”

Yes, he agreed enthusiastically. It was MORE than all right.

….

Saint:

A crush? What a strange word for one such as him. Saint contemplated it for a awhile. He had seen countless people in the first blush of infatuation. It was one thing that never changed and wouldn’t as long as people existed. He had to admit he had been the object of others’ intrigue and misplaced desire, as well. It brought them nothing but suffering. Even if he was too weak to refuse them, he always had to let them down in the end.

He was, however, unused to the feeling himself. What a odd thing it was. To experience such joy when someone was near. To feel warmth at the mere sight of another person. It also carried a sense of anxiety that the other person might not feel the same way. He was the last who would inflict himself on someone unwanted, least of all this girl who so captured his heart.

He quite uncharacteristically didn’t know what to do.

The source of his conundrum sat quietly reading a book near the fireplace, oblivious to the jittery confusion in the heart of the man sitting across the room. Her concentration on her book was absolute. He was sure she wasn’t even aware that he was there.

Saint sighed to himself. He truly had no right to bother her. He rose from his chair and decided to leave her in peace.

She looked up the moment he moved. Her eyes questioning his departure. Perhaps she was more aware of him than he thought.

Impulsively he asked her if she would mind walking with him, to which she happily agreed, much to his delight.

She allowed him to tuck her hand beneath his arm on their stroll through the long halls of the mansion. She didn’t question his odd request. Was she perhaps leaning a little closer to him as he spoke of winter traditions of the past? He knew she was an intelligent girl, with a bright and curious mind. She always listened raptly to his stories for the pleasure of learning. It was one of the many reasons he was so delighted by her company, but it was more than that. Her presence was a peace he had never known before. Now that he was free, he could be allowed to contemplate such peace. It was heady and frightening at once.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked him curiously as they stopped and gazed out the glass door at the fiery sunset.

He was at a loss for words, and cast around for an innocent topic. His eyes fell upon the bunch of mistletoe suspended on the he doorframe above their heads, “Ah, there is a tradition we haven’t discussed. Mistletoe was sacred to many ancient cultures as a fertility symbol. In France it is given as a gift of peace and good luck for the new year. In Britain-“

“Kissing.” she said, blushing very prettily, “Most recently it has been used as an excuse for people to kiss each other.”

“Yes, That is so.” Saint kept his voice unruffled by long practice, “Many lovers observe its history as a symbol of fertility and luck by kissing beneath it.” he hoped she didn’t she didn’t notice the slight tremor in his voice as he spoke the latter sentence.

She nodded and gazed up at the bunch of sacred mistletoe above their heads, “If it is to honor the gods… perhaps we should?” she looked away nervously.

Saint was startled. Did she truly feel as he did? He gave her a smile… a true smile from his heart, “Honoring the gods is never amiss, my sweet lady.” he said very gently, and softly touched her face. He could feel her trembling beneath his fingers. It lit a fire in his heart he thought gone cold long ago, but he held back and lightly brushed his lips against hers. Just a fleeting touch before pulling back, to gauge her reaction.

“Please…” she said softly, her eyes holding a fire to match his own.

Something in his heart gave way and he again lowered his lips to hers. She yielded willingly to his gentle explorations, and he reveled in the sound of her breaths, the softness of her lips… the taste of her tongue. If they were honoring the gods, it could only be those of love and desire.

He pulled away reluctantly and breathlessly. Her flushed face and shining eyes held a deep, passionate longing. Oh, how he wished to answer it. All of it… but the time was not yet right. There were many things she needed to know about him first. However… perhaps for the first time… he was truly looking forward to the future.

….

Here, handling the villains as usual, are Mod Nautilus’ Mistletoe headcanons!

Mistletoe~

Nemo:

Meeting the object of his affections under the mistletoe isn’t really on his radar.

What IS on his radar is meeting EVERYBODY under the mistletoe because he has it HANGING FROM HIS HEAD on a headband he constructed the night prior.

… Unfortunately, Impey ends up taking it from him after a bad encounter involving Van Helsing and a very traumatized Fran.

So he’s moping, not realizing that he’s moping under the mistletoe until he feels a pair of soft lips on his cheek.

I mean, he just looked so sad sitting there all by himself, you know?

“H-HEEEY! Wait a minute, I didn’t do it proooper–!”

Nemo yanks his crush back to him with a surprising amount of strength, though he doesn’t immediately kiss them, instead choosing to rub his nose against theirs.

“Meeeeerry Christmaaaaaas–! [SMOOCH!]”

Aleister:

The object of Aleister’s affections probably doesn’t even realize that they’re standing under the mistletoe. They’re probably just talking with a friend, smiling, sipping their cider and enjoying the atmosphere.

But when their friend steps away, they suddenly feel another presence next to them, warm and eerily comforting.

Jimmy A. Aleister smiles down at them before leaning forward, the bristles of his mustache tickling their skin as he whispers: “Merry Christmas” before pressing his lips to their cheek.

Avido:

Avido has made his intentions clear from the very moment he realized he wanted his paramour (’crush’ is a rather childish term, don’t you think?). Mistletoe and, indeed, Christmas itself is another game piece in this delightful game of cat and mouse he’s been participating in.

Both he and his paramour know about the mistletoe. It’s obvious, couples have been stealing kisses all evening. The two of them purposefully play nearby, never interacting but allowing their social circles to get dangerously close to the poisonous plant.

But his paramour still lets out a surprised gasp when Avido suddenly stands next to them, offering a drink with that charming smile on his face.

Kissing under the mistletoe is a little too juvenile for a man of Avido’s taste, but using it as a starting point for an invitation elsewhere? Perhaps a place a little more secluded, where lips already sweet with wine can finally meet…

#code realize #code:realize #code: realize #code realize headcanons #arsene lupin #abraham van helsing #count of saint germain #impey barbicane #victor frankenstein #nemo #jimmy a aleister #avido crudele

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dibidibidismol · 6 years

Text

For the Anon who wanted me to answer all the questions: I hope you're happy.

— 1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

A Baby named orlo

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

Depends on the situation

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

My bestest friend and I have a shopping date soon!

4. Are you easy to get along with?

Probably not. I dunno.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

Yeah, probably.

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

People who use she/her pronouns.

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

Probably not.

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

Byun Baekhyun.

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

No.

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

A group of close friends.

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

“Great!”

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

Expect by Girls Day

Eternity by VIXX

Tried to Walk by B1A4

Sorry by The Rose

Closer by Oh My Girl

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

So long as they don't tangle it.

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

I believe in chance.

15. What good thing happened this summer?

I got a scholarship to a programme I applied for! Met some new friends!

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

Hell yeah. A sweet baby gave me a smooch. Baby kisses are the best.

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

I think it's a possibility.

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

They moved far far away.

19. Do you like bubble baths?

Not really.

20. Do you like your neighbors?

Yeah, I babysit for them sometimes.

21. What are your bad habits?

I'm a sucker for my dog. I give him too many treats.

22. Where would you like to travel?

I'm not much of a traveler but I hear Portland Oregon is nice this time of year.

23. Do you have trust issues?

Probably?

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

Afternoon Tumblr, Spotify and Tea time.

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

My nose.

26. What do you do when you wake up?

Do my daily language learning sessions and wash my face.

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

Lighter

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

My dog and/or friends.

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

Hahahahahahaha No.

30. Do you ever want to get married?

Yes.

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail?

Yep.

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

I'm Demi, and don't know any celebrities.

33. Spell your name with your chin.

Done.

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

I've done a lot of basketball and a bit of track and field.

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

I don't watch much T.V anyways.

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

Story of my life.

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

When in doubt talk about the weather.

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

She/her pronouns, actually reciprocates my affections, ace/demi friendly, not allergic to dogs, fluent in English, mildly intelligent, has a compatible sense of humor, not abusive.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

Target, H-mart, Costco,

40. What do you want to do after high school?

College and Law school

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

Not everyone, but most people.

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?

I’m tired, thinking, or listening to music.

43. Do you smile at strangers?

Unless they're giving off bad vibes.

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

Outer space. I have a fear of the deep ocean.

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

Devotion to my dog.

46. What are you paranoid about?

Germs, skin cancer, the deep ocean, my friends not loving themselves enough, everyone I know secretly disliking me, etc.

47. Have you ever been high?

On caffeine.

48. Have you ever been drunk?

On life.

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

Yes. But I'm telling y'all anyways. (My dog was giving me sad eyes so I gave him a treat. And then another. And another. And another. So he ended up having like half the bag.)

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

Black

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

Oh yeah. I've been jealous of many of my friends. They're all so attractive and funny and smart and I'm just kinda there.

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

I wish I was more intelligent.

53. Favourite makeup brand?

I don't wear enough makeup to be able to differentiate between the brands.

54. Favourite store?

I like Eastern Asian grocery stores and Target.

55. Favourite blog?

My absolute favorite recently deleted, but my current favourites are @homosexo-l @ot-nine and @queerfictionwriter

56. Favourite colour?

Black, Crimson, and shades of purple.

57. Favourite food?

Right now I'm a big fan of carrots.

58. Last thing you ate?

An egg and roasted mushroom on a hamburger bun.

59. First thing you ate this morning?

Fruit and protein smoothie with whole grain toast.

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

I’ve won a couple basketball related things, a handful of academic awards, speech tournaments, and a few other things I'm forgetting.

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

When I was really young (7 or 8) I was suspended for taking the cookie sprinkles from the class cabinet and distributing them amongst our classmates.

62. Been arrested? For what?

Nope.

63. Ever been in love?

Yeah. It sucks.

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

We both leaned in. *smooch*

65. Are you hungry right now?

I'm hungry for Love and Affection.

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

Nah. I love my real friends a lot.

67. Facebook or Twitter?

I don't have either.

68. Twitter or Tumblr.

Tumblr.

69. Are you watching tv right now?

I don't really watch TV.

70. Name of your bestfriend?

Mira

71. Craving something? What?

Craving love and affection. Also garlic eggplant.

72. What colour are your towels?

White.

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

Four big ones plus eightish throw pillows plus five pillow pets.

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

They have their own corner of my room.

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

60? I have a ton of tiny ones.

75. Favourite animal?

My dog.

76. What colour is your underwear?

Black and Pink.

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

Chocolate.

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

Banana.

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

Black.

80. What colour pants?

Black.

81. Favourite tv show?

I don't really watch TV but I like Ask us Anything/Knowing Bros and I liked Weekly Idol pre-current MC line up. I also like the Great British Baking show.

82. Favourite movie?

Tangled

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

Mean girls? I haven't seen pt2.

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

Mean girls? I haven't seen 21 jump street.

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

I don't really remember the characters, but I think I liked the teacher.

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

Dory!

87. First person you talked to today?

My dog.

88. Last person you talked to today?

See above. :)

89. Name a person you hate?

Donald J. Trump

90. Name a person you love?

Amber Liu!

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

Donald J. Trump

92. In a fight with someone?

My mother.

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

95. Last movie you watched?

The Lorax

96. Favourite actress?

I dunno. I don't watch a lot of TV.

97. Favourite actor?

See above.

98. Do you tan a lot?

I would if I didn't stay inside so much or if I were to lay off the sunscreen.

99. Have any pets?

I have a dog. He’s the bestest. I could go on about him for hours...

100. How are you feeling?

I'm a little tired but my dog is here next to me so I'm good.

101. Do you type fast?

I'm alright on an actual keyboard, but touch screens slow me down a lot.

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

I regret having picked the wrong Duolingo chest and only getting one Lingot instead of five.

103. Can you spell well?

My initial guess tends to be correct, but I tend to doubt my spelling capabilities and confuse myself over wether or not I was correct.

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

I miss the group of people who I went to school with for seven plus years. We were used to each other and it's hard to replicate that camaraderie.

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

Nah.

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

Hahahahahahaha No.

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

I took riding lessons when i was younger.

108. What should you be doing?

Baking a pie. I want pie.

109. Is something irritating you right now?

America’s President.

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

Yes.

111. Do you have trust issues?

See #23

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

My friend/ theripast @squish-io

113. What was your childhood nickname?

Dictionary.

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

Yes.

115. Do you play the Wii?

No.

116. Are you listening to music right now?

Yes.

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

I'm Vegetarian.

118. Do you like Chinese food?

Half of my family is Chinese so I only like the good stuff.

119. Favourite book?

The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Groff

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

No.

121. Are you mean?

Maybe?

122. Is cheating ever okay?

Once I cheated at Pandemic. The rules of the game were too complicated and I was playing against an expert.

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

Probably, I don't have any though.

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

I believe in attraction at first sight but not love.

125. Do you believe in true love?

No.

126. Are you currently bored?

Nah, I'm answering these, it's pretty fun.

127. What makes you happy?

My dog! Kpop crack! Tumblr(sometimes)!

128. Would you change your name?

Maybe.

129. What your zodiac sign?

It starts with a “P”

130. Do you like subway?

Not particularly.

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

First of all, that would never happen. Either way as my best friend they would know that I'm gay and so if their pronouns are not she/her it wouldn't be an issue. If their pronouns were she/her then... I dunno. Depends on what would make them happy.

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

See #10

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

Shawty imma party till the sundown (so I can make it back in time for curfew) 134. Can you count to one million?

Yes. For efficiency I'd count by 500,000s.

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

“I'm straight”

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

I can't sleep with the doors open.

137. How tall are you?

Smol.

138. Curly or Straight hair?

Wavy.

139. Brunette or Blonde?

The former.

140. Summer or Winter?

Winter.

141. Night or Day?

Night.

142. Favourite month?

November.

143. Are you a vegetarian?

Yes.

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

Dark.

145. Tea or Coffee?

Tea.

146. Was today a good day?

Sure.

147. Mars or Snickers?

I don't eat either.

148. What’s your favourite quote?

“Love is like a fart. If you have to force it it's probably shit.”

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

No. 150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“Well,” Miss Morgan said, her voice losing conviction, “what do you mean, talking about people dressed like me? Blue hats, and so on?”

#that's a wrap #ask game #reblogging #with edits

11 notes · View notes

almost-sweet-music · 7 years

Note

pls, pls do a long fluff fic with a sniffy sick Jamie. Blankets, being in his London flat in winter with the fire on, watching telly, his cat on the rug, soup, smooches, messy bed head, pink noses, damon coming round for a cup of tea and a chat. There aren't enough long fluffy fics. Danke!

THERE IS NOW 700 OF YOU SO THANKS SO MUCH FOR FOLLOWING THIS SHIT ACCOUNT ^-^

so here, have a Jamie as a gift!

(there’s a song mentioned so if you wanna listen to it here’s the link! )

The cool part about dating someone and both being sick at the same time is that you can spend countless hours doing nothing but cuddling in bed pressed together and wrapped up like a burrito and no one will judge you for it.

And that’s exactly what you’ve been doing with Jamie… For the past three days…

You woke up in the morning with your head snuggled right under Jamie’s arm and a wicked headache. You moaned in pain and turned away from your husband next to you, immediately regretting it as you were struck with sudden cold air. Winter was definitely not a great time to have a cold like this…

You rubbed your eyes trying to get rid of the morning drowsiness before being pulled back to your previous position by a pair of hands. Although you didn’t see it you could feel Jamie’s smirk as he wrapped his arms around you tightly and tangled your legs back together, trying to preserve the heat.

“Mmmmh Jaaaaaamie…. I have a headache again…” You moaned again, slowly succumbing back to the warmth of his chest and the plethora of blankets and sheets around you.

“Do you want me to get you a pill?” He asked in his deep morning voice you loved so much. You thought for a second and shook your head.

“No… I don’t wanna swallow any more pills… I’m so sick of it!” He chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

“ Go back to sleep then, baby… You’ll feel better when you wake up.” You sobbed through your stuffed nose and groaned before slowly but surely falling back asleep. -Maybe an hour later or more you woke up yet again this time, with a significant difference. You woke up alone… And without a headache.

You slowly sat up and looked around the room. Jamie surely wasn’t here but from the kitchen, you could hear some sizzling.

Your feet hit the cold floor and you shivered, quickly grabbing your slippers and putting them on as well as a giant bathrobe. You slowly wobbled out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes on the way.

You peeked into the kitchen and smiled a little. Jamie looked just like you, with a messy head of hair, a red tinted nose, big ass robe and a pair of furry slippers. You walked over to him and put your head on his shoulder.

“Hello again.” He said and turned his head to the side to kiss your forehead and then returned his gaze to the pan in front of him.

“Eggs?” You asked although that question might as well pose as a rhetorical one as the answer was quite obvious.

“Yep.” Jamie replied putting extra pressure on the ‘p’.

“But we can’t even taste anything so why bother?” Jamie chuckled.

“Because even if we can’t feel it it’s still a nutritious meal and it’s good for you and also because uhh… Speak for yourself I am feeling pERFectly fine.” You giggled and moved aside to the coffee pot.

“Well when you put it like that I suppose it must be true.” Jamie laughed and took the eggs off the pan.

“If only Damon was this cooperative…” You sneered and poured two cups of coffee for the two of you, setting them down on the table. You sat down on your seat and soon Jamie joined you, bringing two plates full of food with him. After you were done eating Jamie pulled out his box of cigarettes and put one in his mouth. You pouted and sat back in your chair, crossing your arms. Your husband looked up at you and chuckled. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

“The cigarette. When will you stop smoking?” He chuckled again and let out the smoke.

“We’ve been married for five years now darling I thought you’d be used to it by now.”

“I will never get used to your bad habits Jamie. I can promise you that.” He smiled.

You flopped on the couch and picked up the remote.

And so the routine began. Endless flicking through the channels only to find nothing interesting, then turning off the telly and reaching for the book and putting it back down just as fast after realizing that reading is too much effort and then turning on the tv AGAIN and AGAIN finding nothing because only 3 minutes passed since you flicked through it the first time.

You groaned, covering yourself with a blanket covered in cat hair even though you told your beloved husband to put it back somewhere where the furball won’t be able to rub its furry ass all over it. Honestly? At this point, you didn’t care. Your nose hurt, you couldn’t breathe through it and you felt like shit. Jamie was still in the kitchen doing something and you were on your own looking at the ceiling wondering what did you do to deserve this torture.

“Jamieeee!” You called out.

“I’ll be right there love wait a minute please.” You pouted.

“I’m cold and I want a huuuuug!” You heard him laugh from the other room and the sound of a chair moving. Seconds later he was standing in the doorframe with two cups of some steaming liquid.

“I was gonna give you this but I don’t think I want to anymore now that you whined so much.” Your eyes lit up and you sat up on the couch with your arms outstretched.

“Whatever it is I want it.” Jamie cocked up one eyebrow. “…Please?” He nodded and finally moved away from the frame. He handed you one of the cups and sat down next to you. The liquid inside the cup turned out to be hot chocolate and you were beyond happy. “Oh hell yes…”

“Happy baby?” You glared at Jamie who had a cocky grin on his face.

“First of all, don’t patronize me, husband. Second of all..” You pouted and brought the cup up to your lips. “Yes…” You mumbled before taking a sip. Jamie chuckled and leaned back on the couch.

“So let’s check if there’s something on tv.”

You glared at him.

You pecked Jamie’s lips softly and smiled, hugging his chest and putting your head in the crook of his neck. He’s been reading a book out loud and you’ve been doing everything to sabotage it from climbing on his lap to playing with his glasses and stealing kisses. He rolled his eyes jokingly and tried to continue reading before you decided to smooch his again, this time longer. when you pulled away Jamie just groaned and put the book down. “Aww why did you stop? It got soooo interesting…” You asked in a mocking tone.

“Listen up you little girl, you were the one that wanted me to read this to you and I gotta say it’s kinda hard to do so when you constantly decide to kiss me ya know?” He squeezed your sides making you squirm. He was right though. You did want him to read to you, except you didn’t quite realize how boring it would get and how much fun it was to just annoy the shit out of Jamie.

“Mmmm yeah but it’s fun though.” Jamie shook his head. “Listen, I am sick… I am struggling so I might as well try to make it a bit more enjoyable.”

“I’m sick too! Where’s my fun?” You giggled.

“My company? Besides-” You were cut off by the doorbell ringing. “Oh… Who’s that?” Jamie grinned.

“I think I know… COME IN!” He yelled and seconds later Damon’s head popped into the room.

“Hello!” He chirped, walking inside. “Am I… disturbing…something?” He gestured to you. Jamie laughed and shook his head.

“No, we were just cuddling.”

Some chatting and a cup of tea later Damon had to go pick up Missy from somewhere so you were left alone again and after eating a very… “nutritious” dinner consisting of instant noodles (which weren’t a great substitute for the classic soup that’s supposed to make you feel better during a cold but it was surely good enough for now) and some cookies you found in the back of the cupboard you began to grow tired.

Jamie put some wood in the fireplace and some slow music in the back and the mood was set. You laid down on the couch next to him and listened to him ramble on about some projects he had, slowly drifting asleep…

“ah….ahhhh…ACHOO!” Jamie sneezed and groaned, wrapping the blanket tighter around his body. He looked to the side at you.

You were sleeping with your head on Jamie’s hip and your arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Maybe the couch wasn’t the most comfortable place in the house but you looked so cute with messy hair and a pink nose sleeping so peacefully, Jamie didn’t have the heart to wake you up so instead, he leaned back into the pillows and ran his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp lightly. The fire was cracking happily in the fireplace accompanied only by your soft snores.

Sometime later Jamie felt you move around so he looked down and noticed you looking at the window. The snow was falling. A soft smile crept on Jamie’s face.

He leaned down and hugged you from the back, making you sit up between his legs. Your cat jumped on the couch and laid down between your legs as well, purring quietly as you scratched its head. Jamie pecked your jaw and nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck. You sighed happily and leaned back into his chest. Jamie began to sway from side to side with you, tickling your neck with his beard and making you giggle. You tilted your head and softly kissed this temples. You enjoyed this. Just him and you…the cat… and silence. And for a second you forgot about everything. About your cold, about the snow outside… the world was gone and It was only you left. And you knew Jamie enjoyed it too. The way his lips curled in a smile while his eyes were closed and how he cuddled to you gave it all away.

“I…want a snowfall kind of love…The kind of love that quiets the wooorld~” Jamie started to sing quietly into your ear, hugging you tightly. A grin spread across your face and you giggled. “Now it’s your part baby…”

“I…Want a snowfall kind of love… Cause I’m a snowfall kind of girl.” You sang through your stuffed nose still swaying from side to side. Jamie chuckled as well squeezing you tight in his arms till you squealed. He yawned and put his head back on your shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed baby…” You giggled.

“It’s not even 9 yet Jamie…”

“Yeah so? I’m tired.”

“I just woke up I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep again.”

“I’ll make you.” You fake gasped.

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“A threat. If you don’t fall asleep I’m going to knock you out.” You burst out with laughter, making him laugh as well. He turned his head around so he could look at you. His eyes were barely open and you could see he was struggling to keep them that way.

“Sigh…. Alright, I suppose we could go to bed early for once. But just because I don’t want to have to carry you to the bed and not because I’m scared or anything…” You pouted and got up. Jamie smiled lazily and stood up right after you. You grabbed his hand and lead him into the bedroom. Upon walking inside you noticed the cat lying flat on the bed directly in the middle. You giggled. “Well look at that honey… I think the bed’s occupied we can’t sleep here…” Jamie let go of your hand and picked up the cat, placing it on the floor.

“Problem solved.” He said and flopped on the bed. You sighed in defeat.

“Shouldn’t we at least shower first?”

“No. Sleep. Now.” He held the sheet up for you to climb under. You rolled your eyes jokingly and joined him under the warm blankets. You pressed yourself against his chest as close at it was humanly possible and put your palm on his cheek, bringing his lips to yours again. Jamie kissed you back softly, running his hand over your hip before pulling away. “Goodnight love.” He said tiredly.

“Goodnight.” You replied but by that point, he was already asleep.

#jamie hewlett x reader #jamie hewlett imagine #gorillaz #gorillaz imagines #jamie hewlett #fanfiction

62 notes · View notes

ask-sickstuck · 8 years

Text

Meet Me

“Tula…don’t wanna go…” Mituna complained, shifting his weight on his feet as he stood in the doorway.

“Come on,” said Latula. “You took care of everything yourself, right? You look ready. Is everything in your backpack?”

Mituna made a noise.

“What was that?”

“Yeah…” Mituna grumbled.

“Awesome! Great job. What about your medicine?”

“Yeah…” Mituna sniffled. “But sniffly…sick…”

“You took it? Allergy medicine, too?”

“Yeah,”

“And eye drops?” asked Latula.

“Yeah…”

“Do you want an extra decongestant?”

“Mmybe…”

“Here, I’ll get you one,” Latula let herself into Mituna’s house, making her way to the bathroom.

“I’m sick,” said Mituna.

“No, allergies are just really bad for everybody right now,” said Latula, rooting around the cabinet. “You have to go to school today. She held up a package of red pills.

“You haven’t taken any of these today, right?”

“Right,” Mituna grabbed a tissue.

“Take one then,” she suggested as she read the box to figure out how frequently Mituna could take them.

“Hmm…” she read. “The spacing between doses is weird. Smoke break might be too far away for me to give you more.”

“Don’t wanna smoke…” Mituna complained. “meyes. Myeyes hurt.”

“You don’t have to, baby,” Latula smiled. “You never should if you don’t want to. But come meet me where we smoke by the art hallway right before 4th period, okay? I think we can both get away with skipping then. I’ll get you some medicine and we’ll sneak a smooch or two in.”

Mituna nodded.

“Rad. Alright, let’s get a move on. I left the keys in the car with the door open,”

Nervously, Mituna stood outside of the door to Latula’s 3rd hour class, looking in the window. He wiped at his nose, a bit upset that Latula didn’t notice him, but also glad that he wasn’t being too obvious. He sat down on the floor by the door, feeling a little better just to know that Latula really was in there. He was overly worried that she wouldn’t meet him after this class, so he decided to find her a bit early. The bell rang, and Mituna stood up and leaned against the wall as the other seniors pushed passed him.

“Oh, hey, Mituna,” Latula raised her eyebrows.

“Les’ go home,” said Mituna. “Sick. So, so, sick.”

“You know, you do look flushed,” Latula felt Mituna’s forehead as he pouted.

“I said so,”

“You did, but you weren’t all clammy like this in the morning,” said Latula. “I’m sorry it wasn’t obvious to me at first that you might deserve to stay home. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I knew you felt like shit and ill, but I didn’t think you felt like shit in a contagious, will-get-better-with-rest kinda way. I thought it was just the pollen. Having the pollen to deal with on top of this must only make things worse…”

“It does!” Mituna groaned.

“Your nose looks like it hurts,” Latula smiled nervously.

“I threwup outit. When I barfed in the bathroom,”

“You got sick?!?”

“Mhmm,”

“I didn’t know your stomach was bothering you!” said Latula as her boyfriend sniffled hard.

“Have you been blowing your nose?”

“It hurts,” Mituna whined.

“Oh my god. You have post-nasal drip. You have to blow your nose. It’ll make you chunder if you don’t!”

“I didn’t know that!” Mituna squeaked, holding his hands out.

“Tissues!”

“Ugh, shit, can you just wait until we get to the nurse’s office? That might be quicker than rooting through my backpack,”

“No,” Mituna said stubbornly, and then cautiously asked, “No nurse?”

“Why can’t we go to the infirmary?” asked Latula, taking her backpack off of her shoulder to look for tissues.

“I’m embarrassed. And I don't want to know who puked. Mess,”

“Oh, shit,” Latula nervously grinned and lowered her voice. “You vommed everywhere?”

Mituna nodded frantically, his nose running.

“Here,” Latula handed Mituna a packet of tissues. Mituna noisily blew his nose.

“Sorry,” he said. “Sorry. I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Oh, okay,” said Latula.

“But, I think you have a temp. I could totally get permission to take you home,”

“Can we just get in trouble?”

“Yeah,” Latula smiled weakly, feeling sorry for his boyfriend. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“If I pretend we skippedforfun noooobody will know,” said Mituna, pressing the tissue to his nose.

“You know, I don’t even think we’ll get caught,” smirked Latula. “When we get our detention slips, we could say we went on that field trip to check out the state campus. Just act like they just forgot to mark us down.”

Mituna laughed.

“Like we could go to COLLEGE!”

“Shut up!” Latula giggled.

The skater girl sat on the floor of her messy room with her boyfriend leaning into her. He was bundled up in blankets while sitting on a pile of jackets and t-shirts. Latula could also see a bra strap poking out from underneath his leg.

Mituna’s face was pale and he looked like he had just checked out Medusa.

“Feeling any better?” she asked. “Oh, you got a little something.” Latula pointed to her nose, and Mituna laughed and grabbed a tissue to clean up.

“Yes. Good sick. Very stoned.”

“You’re super hot,” Latula kissed Mituna’s cheek and nuzzled into his neck. Still leaning on him, she looked down and fumbled through the blankets for the thermometer.

“Hold still,” she instructed as she pulled out the thermometer. She held his chin and quickly stuck the tip in his ear. He winced uncomfortably for a second as it got a reading and she pulled it back out.

“You take my temperature…and…mytemperature’s…” Mituna made some noises Latula couldn’t understand.

“It’s 100.7,” said Latula. “I guess the fever reducer isn’t doing much. Poor baby.” Latula leaned into Mituna and knocked him backwards with her.

“Wanna pack another bowl?” asked Mituna.

“Hell yeah,” said Latula, opening up a small box to pluck out a few nugs into her pipe. “Sick boy first.” Latula handed Mituna the pipe and lit it for him. He took a hit and tried to blow smoke out his nose, but it worked poorly.

Latula took the teal pipe back for herself.

“Oh…” Mituna said sadly as his girlfriend put her mouth on the piece.

“Huh?” Latula looked up through the smoke.

“Germs,” said Mituna, his gaze shifting down to the red dragons painted on her glass piece. They were hidden slightly behind their cloud of smoke.

“Dude, we’re like, married at this point. I live in your germs,” said Latula. “I’ll be fine.”

Mituna was handed the pipe, and Latula watched him in awe. He was so pale. Her poor love.

Maybe some food would help, she thought.

“What have you eaten today, honeybee?” she asked.

Mituna blew out the smoke he was holding in his mouth and sighed.

“Nothin’,”

“Nothing?!? I need to make you something, baby! You have to eat!” Latula looked worried. “Keep smokin’ that and get the munchies. What could I possibly get you to eat? Poor thing. I didn’t know this was bad enough to harm your appetite.”

“I forgot ‘bout food,” Mituna seemed genuine in his answer, and he tried to pass the pipe to Latula. She held out her palm and he shrugged, taking another hit.

“Is it because your stomach hurts?” asked Latula.

“No,” Mituna promised.

“Honey, what would you like to eat? Soup maybe? That would be easy. Or something fun like chips?”

“…chips…”

“Of course,” Latula loudly kissed Mituna’s forehead. “Whatever it takes to get my boyfriend eating.”

#homestuck #humanstuck #mituna #latula #mitula #emeto #fanfic #//drug mention

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