#this was far too good of an opportunity upon waking up this morning it would not leave my brain

[morganupstead]

It’s not lost on me that eras tour surprise songs for night 1 in Singapore was I don’t wanna live forever x dress.

It’s so chenford coded in the best ways ✨💗

(IDWLF is so reminiscent of them having this disagreement about undercover. And seeing each other at the wedding across the room l but the conversation still looms over unsettled. But they still can find each other’s eyes in a crowded room.)

(And then by the time they are on the dance floor together they’ve transitioned into Dress. Like “even in my worst times you could see the best in me, flashbacks to my mistakes my rebounds my earthquakes, even in my worst lies you saw the truth in me” feels like such a culmination of these last two episodes to me.

We could relate this directly to the lie detector but I thinks it’s more indicative of their willingness to see through the rough patches they’re having right now because they love each other. They’ve realized they have some things to workout but their love is never in doubt ✨🩷

THE WAY THEY LOOK AT EACH OTHER ACROSS THE CROWDED ROOM 🥺

[eelnoise]

incandesce

zoro x afab!reader an: just some lovesick drabble because im weak in the knees for my big stinky boy. he's so cute and i wanna just snuggle w him so bad 🥺 cw: fluff :) wc: 1.1k @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @themushroomofdeath

The flash of the morning sun hits Zoro’s face like a white-hot light as he descends from the crow’s nest, freshly exhausted from training. Squinting in the daylight, he looks upon the deck below as it comes into clearer view – silhouettes of the crew fade into focus, and quickly does he scan the scene for a brief headcount. A slight warmth fills his chest, and not from the tide of day washing over the ship.

You’re not among them. You’re still asleep.

Zoro’s boots hit the deck with an audible thud, and heads turn to greet him. He offers a sleepy ‘good morning’ nod before heading right in the direction of the women’s quarters. No one stops him, nor are any words exchanged. They all know where he’s headed, just as they know why you tend to sleep in.

It isn’t often that he gets this opportunity – to join you for a nap. Most days he retires from the watch far earlier than any of the women awake, sometimes avoiding his own bed all together and simply napping in the nest. The odds are in his favor this time, and he means to take full advantage of the very limited time he can have with you. Only you.

No sooner does he creak the wooden door open that his heart skips a beat beneath his ribs. You’re there, just as he hoped you would be, softly snoozing beneath the sheets. Your hair is folded wildly about your face and the pillow beneath your head, and your lips are slightly parted with just a speck of drool glistening down your chin. Zoro can’t help but find you endearing, and seeing you in a deep, restful sleep does something to soften his stoicism. 

He almost can’t bring himself to wake you, as the sudden shift on the mattress always causes you to stir – though you’re never soured by it. Never once do you make him feel unwanted or loathsome, always welcoming into your arms or by your side when he needs you most.

And, while not the most affectionate man, Zoro relishes in the love you give him. The good-willed and honest devotion that you deem him worthy enough to receive makes his head spin. Somehow you had latched onto his sin-soaked soul, cleansing it in your soft, practiced hands and invigorating him in ways long forgotten.

Memories that ache - that wear him down with the weight of the past, present and beyond - they all seem to slip away when he’s next to you. You’re his anchor, reeling him back from the somber reverie that so frequently plays in his mind. A light that burns bright even in the darkest of places, and somehow he always finds his way back to you. Zoro knows that real worth is wordless, actions speaking emphatically over all else.

And you show him that worth.

His worth.

Zoro kicks off his boots, practically tiptoeing his way around the bed to it’s open side – and though he knows it’s fruitless, he does make an attempt to slide in next to you as carefully as he can manage to. And you stir – as if right on cue, the sudden weight pressing into the mattress that rolls you against his chest. 

A sleepy hum of acknowledgement befalls your lips, a small - yet simple - gesture of welcome to the man now aside you.

A hint of a smile etches into the cooks of his mouth as he returns the gesture with a hum of his own before curling his arm around your middle and burying his face into your hair and breathing in deeply. Your body is warm to the touch, and with it comes elation. Oftentimes he appreciates that you had cast the first stone, releasing him from the nigh-torturous, unknown feelings that he couldn’t possibly have navigated alone.

Zoro clings to you, as if magnetically attached around your body. His thumb drags along your tummy, up and down in a soothing yet natural response to being with you. He murmurs a throaty “Good mornin’” against your ear that makes you shiver with longing. Far too little do you get to indulge in his embrace, and though you’re not as tired as he is, you aim to enjoy the time regardless.

“Morning,” You reply, twisting your head just enough to see him and allowing your hand to fall atop his and entwining your fingers together. “How was watch?”

“Same as ever.” He whispers into you, feeling that familiar tranquil serenity blossoming within him. Zoro squeezes your body against him and moves some of your hair out of your face to place a series of pecks to your cheek before trailing up to give you a soft, tender kiss to your lips. 

It hadn’t been easy, learning to love – but with you there, ready and willing to guide him at his chosen pace the whole way through his strained emotions. Not once in his life did he expect to feel this way, a man of action and ruthlessly devoted to his dream and to his course upon it. Zoro once saw life as just that – his own. A narrow pathway in hindsight, one fit enough for just himself at the end of all things.

Though now, the path had forked, widened, and along it do you walk beside him. Every decision, every step, every pinch of ash left in his wake has your name written upon it in dark, permanent ink. Zoro thinks with you in mind, acts with your face at the very forefront of his synapses. He’s grown to adore you, both body and soul.

Part of it terrifies him still. The thought of losing something more precious than words can explain dives deep into his core. In love, there is fear. Fear of loss, fear of weakness in life’s most pivotal moments, fear of losing one's sense of perception. 

Though, there’s also hope. Hope and happiness and support and all else that comes with devoting your very essence to another. Seeing you smile or laugh brings him a peace that borders on inexplicable. The feeling of your hand on his bids him well wishes, each kiss a reminder of sanctuary. Every tangle between the sheets when he makes love to you renders him spellbound - the saccharine, honeyed taste of your skin on his tongue mixed in with those sighs and coos of pleasure that only he can hear, a song that only he can make you belt, it makes Zoro’s head spin with just the thought.

To Zoro, you’re beyond compare. No single person in his life comes even toe-to-toe with you, and as you snuggle against him, he allows himself to feel vulnerable. You’re his safehaven, a blessing in disguise that nabs him by the heart and never fails to lull him into a rejuvenating respite. 

You’re home.

You’re his.

[wearebarca]

7. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 7

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed somewhere too long. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself at critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

Word count: 6,4k

A/N: Feedback is always nice. Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy

Rosalie knew before she opened her eyes that she wasn’t in her bed. The stiffness in her neck was indication enough, along with the slightly rough feeling of the wool blanket she kept as a decoration on her couch. An unknown alarm was blaring from her phone on the coffee table. Suddenly, the memories from the night before  started to come back to her. How good it was to be wrapped in the footballer’s arms, how warm and safe it felt. She was probably the one who set an alarm to make sure the photographer wouldn’t be late for work.  The simple thought put a smile on the woman’s face.

 A quick look around her kitchen told her that most of the dishes were put away and a cup of coffee along with a note were waiting for her on the counter. 

“ I have to bring Nala home before training. You looked too peaceful to wake up. Thank you for yesterday, I really needed it. See you at training bonita.”

Ale

The photographer took the note and pinned it on her fridge. Every time her eyes strayed to it while getting ready, she could feel butterflies fill her stomach. The brunette hopped quickly in the shower and changed into her day clothes before heading out for the training center. 

The first thing she noticed upon entering her office was the small brown paper bag which seemed to be the source of the delicious smell lingering in the room. There could only be one person responsible for such a gesture. The fluttering feel from the morning came back full swing as the photographer pulled out a fresh pastry from the bag. 

Her morning was quite slow. She had tasked some of the junior photographers to attend training to allow her to finish answering some emails and send the contend Martina was waiting on for the next social media campaign. Rosalie’s morning was surprisingly productive considering the stiffness in her neck. The only thing that pulled her out of her work induced trance was the repeated buzz of her phone. When the device kept vibrating after a good five minutes, the brunette finally checked her screen to see what was going on. She was surprised to see the nicknames of several girls from the team appear on her screen, with the first notification being “Capi has added you to the chat”. Most were welcoming the photographer to the group and the rest were discussing the team bonding night organised by Ingrid that would most likely take place two weeks from now. 

Deciding she would read everything later, she left her phone on her desk and focused on finishing a few tasks before lunch. When she arrived in the cafeteria, she was immediately called by Mapi and Ingrid to join them and the rest of their group. The brunette grabbed her food and took the last available seat, which happened to be next to the Spanish captain. 

She was leaning with her elbows on the table, her hands holding her chin up and listening intently to what Patri was saying. Only, as soon as the brunette took her seat, her focus shifted. 

« Hola, » she said with a lazy smile stretching on her lips. Patri was aware of their budding friendship, but so far had not been aware of a deeper connection blooming between the captain and the photographer. Now, with her friend who had seemingly forgotten about her in order to engage in a conversation with the Canadian, it was clear that something more was happening.

“Did you sleep ok?”

“Yes, thank you, I didn’t even realize that you left this morning.” The photographer said a little embarrassed by how hard she was sleeping. They were leaning close to each other in order to keep a certain level of privacy in a table filled with their friends and colleagues. “ How did you sleep? Can’t imagine my couch would provide the best sleep.”

“I slept good actually, but I can’t say it’s because of your sofa no.” She said with a smile. 

Patri, still amazed by what was unfolding in front of her, tried to catch Pina’s attention by elbowing her in the ribs. “¿qué es?¿qué es?”

“¿desde cuando?”

“no sé” Pina said, watching the two women converse in front of her. “tengo curiosidad por saber que esta pasando”

“Le preguntaré a algunas de las chicas sobre esto.” Patri said, getting up to bring back her tray. 

The week passed on quickly for everyone. The team was preparing for their game next wednesday and the media team was working extra hard to provide the fans with fun content with their favourite players. Rosalie was able to get out of her office more, and take back her place as the main photographer present during the training sessions. More than ever, Rosalie was appreciating the little routine she had formed, but now, there was a new element present in her daily life. Every lunch, she would spend it with the team in the cafeteria, more precisely with a certain blond captain. 

As they grew closer, the rest of the team noticed the growing chemistry. With the realization came the teasing, which Alexia shot down pretty quickly. Even if these girls were her family, she did not want her private life to be the subject of discussion among them. But even with her efforts, the whole team was soon aware of the clear interest the women had for each other. 

Even with the thought of the photographer in her mind, Alexia was still dead focused on training. Her comeback after her injury had not been an easy road and the pressure of getting back to her old standards was a heavy load on her shoulders. Her appointment with the physio had been full of warnings against overtraining and focusing on a slower but safer road to full recovery. 

Alexia knew all of this. She knew that overworking herself would only slow her down in the end. But she was stubborn. The guilt she felt for her club, her teammates, the fans, who had yet to see the return of their queen, was simply too strong. 

She wasn’t surprised when Monday , two days before the game, she felt some discomfort in her knee. It wasn’t pain, yet, but it was enough to allow fear to grasp at her mind. 

Rosalie could see it from the sidelines, the anxiety slowly creeping in the blonde’s eyes. She was slower than normal, running through the drills with a carefulness she hadn’t seen her use before. She wasn’t the only one who had noticed the change in intensity. Jonatan soon after called for the captain who immediately ran to him, making a tremendous effort to hide the slight limp she had developed in the course of the session. 

Their exchange was fast. Alexia clearly seemed to want to finish this session and was arguing her case with as much intensity as she would with a ref during a game. Jonatan stayed strong, even with the captain towering over him. 

At this point, their argument had pulled the attention of several of the girls. Rosalie lowered her camera, not wanting to breach what clearly was a conversation meant to stay between player and coach. When she realized that Martina failed to show the same respect as her, she positioned herself between the pair and the head of media’s phone. 

“ I doubt this is the entertainment the fans want.” She said with a raised eyebrow. She had heard from the players how Martina could sometimes be invasive but she hasn’t seen her cross the line just yet. 

A dry laugh escaped Martina’s lips as she finally lowered her phone. “Si, si, you are right.” She said as she moved farther on the sidelines. Rosalie turned back around just in time to see Alexia storm off the pitch, leaving a discouraged Jonatan behind. 

“ Thank you Rosa.” Mapi said, approaching the photographer. “ Ale would have been livid if this came out in one of her instagram stories.” 

“Would she really?”

“ She has before.” Mapi said with bitterness in her tone. 

“ I’m starting to understand why Alexia is so wary of the media team.” Rosalie made a move towards the tunnel but was stopped by a hand on her wrist. 

“I know you want to make sure she’s alright, but for now Ale needs a minute to process.” Mapi said with a sad smile. Rosalie knew the Spanish woman was right, and she could not just leave practice to go comfort the captain. 

“ Oui, oui I understand.” She said, picking back up her camera. The rest of the practice seemed to drag on to no end for the photographer who wanted nothing more than to see how the blonde was doing. 

Once training was over, Rosalie learned that Alexia had been sent to the physios to assess the situation. Not wanting to disturb the professional, she went back to her office to work in the editing of the pictures she had taken. 

Once again, her afternoon seemed a lot slower than usual, and for one of the first times since she had started this job, Rosalie left her office at the same time as the rest of the staff. 

Lucy and Keira could not believe their eyes when they saw the Canadian walk out of the building. 

“Are you feeling alright Frenchy?” Keira asked, almost worried for her friend.  

“Oui oui, I just thought finishing early would hurt once in a while.”

“Who are you?” Lucy asked, grabbing the younger woman by the shoulders. 

“Non mais voyons lâches moi.” The brunette said, laughing loudly. 

“Wanna come by for dinner? We could watch a movie or something.” Keira asked, happy to finally have the opportunity to finally spend some time with her best friend. 

“Sure! That’s a great idea!” They all walked together in the parking lot, discussing what they would watch, when a specific dark grey cupra caught the attention of the photographer. 

“Isn’t that Alexia’s car?”

“Yeah, I thought she left at the same time as the rest of us.” Lucy said, checking her watch. At this time, the medical staff had already left and no one was left in the gym. 

“I hope she’s ok.” Rosalie said as she came to a stop half way to her car. Lucy and Keira could practically see the dilemma forming in the younger woman’s head. They knew that she would not ditch them, even if her heart was telling her to go see the Catalonian.

“Go.” Lucy decided for her. Rosalie sent a thankful look towards the couple as she turned around and almost dashed to the training center. 

She let her instincts guide her to the pitch, where she found the blond sitting alone on a ball. She  took a seat next to her. They stayed silent for a while, until the blonde was ready to talk 

“I am not playing on Wednesday.” The blonde said, her gaze not leaving the pitch. “They want to prevent further deterioration.”

The brunette shuffled closer to the footballer. “Can you still train?”

“ In the gym, yes, and light drills.” She said sadly. 

Rosalie took a second to take in the footballer's sad features. With her foot, she kicked the ball slightly under Alexia, just hard enough to make her lose balance and slide to the floor. As soon as the ball was free, Rosalie dashed down the pitch to the nearest goal and sent the ball in the top right corner. When she turned back towards the blond, she was still sitting on the floor with a very cute and confused expression. 

“Come on! What are you gonna do about that?” The photographer yelled arms in the air with what Alexia thought was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen. 

“Are you scared of an amateur, La Reina?” Rosalie knew she had her now. Alexia got up and slowly jogged to the goal to retrieve the ball. She kicked it in the brunette’s direction and stood a few feet away from her. 

“ I just know that you  are no amateur Rosalia.” She said with a soft smile. 

As soon as the brunette touched the ball, Alexia’s whole demeanour changed. Her face was the epitome of focus and her whole body tensed, revealing her taut muscles. The sight was intimidating to say the least, but Rosalie was not going to let the opportunity to show off a little pass. 

She dashed forward, ball at her feet, pulling all the tricks she could think of. She was fast, but Alexia seemed to be able to predict her every move and soon enough, the photographer ended up on her ass, no ball in sight. 

A loud laugh was heard behind her. She turned around to see Alexia with one foot on the ball, seemingly trying very hard to keep her composure. 

“ You’re fast, and skilled, but a tiny bit predictable.” She said, offering a hand to pull the photographer up. 

“Rematch.” Was all the photographer said as she took the ball from the blond and positioned herself once again. Alexia smiled at the brunette’s eagerness. She had found someone as competitive as her. 

They were at it for  almost an hour, with Rosalie successfully scoring a grand total of seven times against Alexia who blocked at least twelve attempts.

 Rosalie, unsatisfied with these statistics, almost begged the footballer for one last attempt. Whoever won this, would win the whole game. 

“ I think I have you now Reina.” Rosalie said with a cheeky smile. 

“ Don’t get so cocky now bonita, I won’t go easy on you.” The nickname made the photographer blush furiously, but she refused to let it distract her. She finally launched her attack , but Alexia’s response was so fast Rosalie wasn’t even able to register what was happening. She was left standing alone in the field while Alexia was already halfway across the pitch, sending the ball in a perfect arc in the opposite goal. 

Rosalie sat on the grass and let herself fall on her back dramatically, arms in a cross. Alexia retrieved the ball and ran back to the photographer, flopping down almost on top of her. The impact knocked the air out of her lungs, but she made no move to get out from under the blond. 

“ I think it is safe to say that I won.” Alexia said, still laughing. No answer came from the brunette, who was too mesmerized by the blond’s eyes and the feeling of her weight on top of her. 

Her smile softened as her eyes shifted to the captain’s lips. Alexia seemed to finally notice the position they were in, as well as how little space separated the two. She could feel the rapid pulse of the photographer, which matched her own. The pull was magnetic, and every second passing seemed to eat away at the woman’s resolve. 

They did not know who reached for who first, their movements almost synchronized. 

Her lips were even softer than Rosalie had imagined. They fit perfectly on her own and it felt like something had just clicked. She could feel the tension in the captain’s body slowly fade away, as if she was melting in their embrace. The shift of weight brought the delicious feeling of the footballer’s body moving on her, which pulled a small moan from the brunette. 

The sound caught Alexia’s attention. She smiled into the kiss, which made the smaller woman pull away slightly. When she saw the happy expression on the footballer’s face, she smiled and angled her head away, embarrassed by her body’s reaction to the blond. Alexia’s hand came up and caressed the photographer’s cheek before diving back in for a slow kiss. The contrast between Alexia’s callous hands and her soft lips made the photographer’s head spin. 

They pulled away when oxygen became an issue. Alexia thought, as she looked at the smaller woman who’s pupils were blown and lips swollen from their kiss, she realized that she needed to see more of this blissed out version of the photographer. 

Rosalie’s expression changed, mistaking Alexia’s silence for regret. “I’m so sorry I didn’t want to overstep I’m…” she was interrupted by the feeling of the blonde’s lips back on her. 

“ Don’t apologize, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” She said with a smile. They got back up and retrieved their bags. None of them uttered a word as they walked back to their car, content in the comfortable silence. Alexia stopped next to the photographer’s car, holding the door open for Rosalie. 

“Thank you,” Alexia said with a shy smile. “I needed this.”

“Which one, the game or the kiss?”

“I think it’s safe to say both.” She said with a grin. 

Rosalie had a love-hate relationship with her phone. She liked the convenience of having a decent camera always with her, but she hated the constant buzzing and being bombarded by text and notifications. She kept her phone on silent outside of work hours.

 If she had it on, she would have seen the notification of a new instagram story on the club’s account. She would have seen that she had been tagged in it, along with Alexia’s account. She would have seen the massive wave of messages flooding her dms. 

Instead, it was in her bed , when she reached for her phone in order to set her alarm, that she realized exactly how invasive the head of social media could really be. 

The video wasn’t too bad really. It captured the moment of the photographer’s fall after she had lost to the captain and Alexia toppling on her a few moments later. To anyone else, it simply looked like two friends having fun after a long day at work but to the women’s football community, it was a lot more. 

Emotions flooded the brunette all at once. Never would she have thought that her privacy would be so easily exposed to the world. She never wanted to be thrusted into the spotlight, and all this attention made all the color drain from her face. 

The feeling only grew much worse when Rosalie thought of Alexia. She knew how the blonde felt about her life being exposed to the public eye. 

Rosalie didn’t sleep that night, and the consequences were very visible the next morning when she pulled up at the training center. She had ignored all of Ingrid and Mapi’s numerous calls and texts, and only answered a thumbs up to Lucy and Keira’s worried messages. 

For the brunette, it was impossible to think about anything else than Alexia’s reaction to all this. The facility was quieter than usual, due to the fact that Rosalie had opted to arrive later to avoid crossing paths with anyone. Surprisingly, Ingrid was sitting in the lobby, and got up as soon as she saw the Canadian enter. 

Rosalie froze and didn’t move when the Norwegian made a move to hug her. «How are you? »

« Worried.» the photographer said in a small voice. « My phone won’t stop buzzing. »

The raven hair girl tightened her hold before letting go and grabbing her arm to start guiding the brunette down the corridor. 

 « The media team and the coaches have called a meeting to deal with the situation. Alexia is there as well. »

« How is she? »

« Very angry. » Ingrid said. She panicked a little as she saw her friend’s face fall. « Not at you Rosy! She’s in this state mainly because this time, Martina dragged someone dear to her in this mess. »

Rosalie blushed slightly at that and stayed silent for the rest of the walk. They arrived in front of a room where loud and rapid Spanish conversations could be heard through the closed door. Ingrid sent an encouraging look to the photographer before pushing her inside the room. 

Inside was a long table where Jonatan, Sara, Marcelo, Martina, Alexia and another man she did not recognize were all sitting. The room went quiet as the Canadian entered. Jonatan got up and smiled at the nervous photographer. 

« Bon dia Rosalie, take a seat. » he said motioning to the open seat next to Sara, which happened to be right across Alexia. Just like Ingrid had said, the captain looked livid, anger overtaking all of her features, making her look cold and almost Dangerous. 

« Hey, I’ll translate if it gets too fast.” Rosalie sent a grateful nod her way, but when the conversation started back, they had switched to English to make sure the photographer would follow. 

“ As I was saying, it is simply unacceptable to use the player’s personal life to promote the club. Let’s not forget that this video was taken outside of training hours and I am certain none of the girls gave their consent to post this.” Jonatan said, turning to Rosalie to confirm his statement. 

“ I never gave my consent, nor was even aware of being filmed during that time.” She said in a shaky voice. 

“ But you were at the training centre. That makes it ok to film since what happens inside these walls is club business.” Martina said, clearly trying to justify her actions. “ It was a wholesome moment that attracted a lot of attention to the club.” She added. 

Every word coming out of the woman’s mouth seemed to chip away at Alexia’s patience. She decided that she had been silent long enough and it was time to show just how angry she truly was. 

“ Attention? You exposed us for attention? You forcefully pulled Rosalie at the forefront of an obsessed fan base who’s been harassing us for the last 12 hours, for attention?” She said, the sound of her voice getting louder and more aggressive with every word. 

“You don’t realize the impact your actions have on other people. As players, we know that we are constantly being watched and that our lives are but a source of entertainment for others. But Rosalia never asked for any of this. She doesn't deserve this violation of her privacy.” She added, sending a look in the photographer’s way. One that greatly reassured the brunette. Alexia was trying to protect her. 

“We are tired of the abuse the head of social media  has perpetuated and the team, along with the coaches, ask management to take action against the perpetrators.” Alexia sat back in her chair. The rest of the table was silent, waiting to see who would dare speak after Alexia’s declaration. 

Finally, the man Rosalie did not know coughed a little and spoke in spanish, too fast for Rosalie to be able to understand properly. 

“He said that from now on, Marcelo would be acting as head of social media and that every post Matina would prepare would have to be approved beforehand.” Sara whispered to the brunette. She turned just in time to see Martina’s face fall and Alexia’s smirk appear. 

“There is still the matter of the video itself.” Marcelo said, pulling out his computer. “Millions of people have already seen it. Taking it down now would only attract more attention to it.” He said, turning his screen so they could all see the statistics. 

“ The response is mainly positive and Alexia told me that the messages she’s been receiving are mostly positive.” The new head of socials turned towards the photographer. “ What about you?”

“I haven’t read anything really, but none of my notifications stood out.” She said pulling out her phone and opening the app for the first time since the night before. 

“ So it seems that for now, most people see this as the friendship we all know you two have. This is good. I think that the best course of action would be to leave it up, and simply continue our posting habits as usual, but featuring the other players more.” He said with confidence. 

“ We need to give the fans something else to focus on. We can post a fun interview from media day today along with an update on our injured players.” The solution seemed like a good  plan to the rest of the staff who all agreed and stood up. The man Rosalie had yet to know the name walked out first, followed closely by Martina who looked dead set on trying to explain her point of view. The fact that she seemed incapable of understanding what she had done was wrong baffled the brunette. She really did not regret her actions and Rosalie was starting to think that her consequences weren’t harsh enough. 

From the corner of her eye, the photographer saw Alexia abruptly stand up and bolt out of the room. Her instinct told her to follow, and she was glad she did because she arrived just in time to see Alexia trap Martina against the wall. 

“¿Viste algo más anoche?” She asked in a low, menacing voice. Her tone gave Rosalie chills, and she didn’t know if it was because of fear or something else. 

“No, me fui justo después, lo juro.” Martina said, visibly shaken by the taller woman’s action. Alexia released her and stormed out towards the locker room. When Rosalie passed her, she sent a strange look her way, as if she was trying to see something that would have evaded her keen snooping skills. 

Her gaze made the photographer feel uncomfortable as she quickened her steps. She pushed the door of the locker room and found Alexia, head in her hands, sitting at her cubicle. 

“Ale…” At the sound, the captain’s gaze met her own and Rosalie saw for the first time how Alexia truly felt about the whole ordeal. Fear and panic was visible in her hazel eyes as she stood up to pace around the room. 

“You shouldn’t be in here.” She said, eyes to the floor. “If someone sees…”

“Everyone is on the pitch, it's ok.” Rosalie could see Alexia getting agitated , so she decided to take a seat in the closet cubicle to her, on the opposite side of the room. 

“I knew this would happen. It’s always the same thing with your team.” She said, still pacing.

“My team?” Rosalie said incredulously. 

“Si, you can’t stop putting your nose in other’s lives and it’s hell for the rest of us.” Alexia said, stopping in her tracks to look at the brunette. 

Rosalie was too stunned to speak. Her expression was a mix of hurt and sadness that broke the captain’s heart as soon as she saw it. 

Rosalie knew that Alexia was angry and it was this anger that pushed her to say these things, but she couldn’t help how bad she felt after hearing it. 

“ I thought you knew I wasn’t like this. I would never breach your privacy like this.” 

“ I know, I know.” Alexia said, trying to calm down. “Maybe we should just be colleagues,” she said in a small voice, incapable of looking the photographer in the eyes. She knew that if she did, she would cross the room and take the smaller woman in her arms, apologize and tell her that everything would be alright. 

“Is that what you really want?” 

“Si.” 

“Then there’s nothing I can do but respect your decision.” Rosalie said in a sad voice. She turned around and walked out of the locker room, leaving Alexia alone. 

As soon as the brunette left, Alexia sat back down. She felt like her legs weren’t able to carry her anymore. Her hands were shaking and a heavy feeling lingered in her heart. 

She knew that what she had just done was cold, but it was the only way she could protect her from the scrutiny of the public eye. She knew Rosalie was like her, a very private person and the moment the photographer crossed the threshold of the confederation room, she could see from how small she looked, how much this was affecting her. Distancing herself from the French-Canadian was the only option to keep Rosalie, and herself, out of the spotlight. 

When she finally mustered up the strength to get out on the pitch, her eyes immediately scanned the field for the family silhouette of the brunette. She only found one of the other photographers and the rest of the media team. Thankfully, Martina was nowhere in sight. 

Alexia walked to the huddle in the center of the pitch and took a spot next to Lucy. The woman turned around and sent a glare her way, almost frightening the captain. The rest of practice was hell for the midfielder. She made mistake after mistake, missing targets on her passes and unable to complete plays that she usually had no difficulty doing.    

She simply could not stop thinking about how it all went down this morning. She knew that it would be hard to stay away from the photographer, especially now that the feeling of the woman’s soft lips was ingrained in her mind, but she had not planned feeling this sort of withdrawal so soon. 

As soon as the photographer reached her office, the tears that were threatening to fall ran down her cheeks. It was all too much at the same time for the woman. Her phone blowing up with various messages from fans, her anger towards the former head of social media, Alexia’s rejection and the workload that came a few days before a match, was simply more than what she could handle emotionally. 

So Rosalie did what she always did when it became too much. She buried herself in her work and training. She spent her whole day barricaded in her office, arranging the photoshoot schedule for the next month and working on the fan project. She skipped lunch and stayed well after the last staff member had left. She ignored the messages from Lia and Leah who had seen the story and wanted to know if their friend was alright, and sent a quick answer to Lucy, who she had briefly talked to before hiding in her office. She needed to be alone, isolate herself from the world for a bit. 

Having the match here in Barcelona came as a relief for Rosalie who didn’t have to take the team bus or interact with anyone before the actual match. She had tasked the other photographers to take the arrival pictures and was able to receive and edit them in her office while everyone was preparing. 

With Alexia on the bench, Rosalie found her job sligh harder than normal due to the piercing gaze she could feel on her back. It took every ounce of self control to not turn and meet her gaze head on. She knew that if she did, she would forgive the blond for the harsh words she had said. So she focused on her job, and did not linger on the pitch once the team secured the win. 

The rest of the week stayed more or less the same for the French-Canadian. Wake up, run, breakfast, work, strength training, sleep then repeat.  She had declined coffee with Ingrid and Mapi and had yet to decide if she was going to show up at the team bonding night, which was scheduled in 3 days. 

All week she could see, as well as the rest of the team, that Alexia was clearly not in the right mindset. Her temper was short and she easily lost her patience when training wasn’t going the way she wanted. The whole team had come to fear the blonde and simply did not know how to approach their captain. 

When it became clear that Alexia’s mood wasn’t going to change anytime soon. Mapi decided that it was time to have a talk. Which is why, when the midfielder was sulking all alone on the sidelines, she was swiftly grabbed by the jersey and dragged in the stands.

 From their spot, they could see the rest of the girls doing drills and for a moment, Alexia was able to take a breath. She had loved watching her teammates practice when she herself could not play. She used to close her eyes and visualize herself back in the field. But for now, she was focused on the reason why her friend had dragged her in the stands in the middle of training. 

The tattooed woman stayed silent while she kept looking at the blonde in the eyes. 

“What?”

“You are going to talk to me now.”

“What about?” Alexia knew exactly what Mapi was hinting at, but she still tried to act confused. 

“ You know exactly what I’m talking about, now spill.” Mapi said with a stern expression. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s the same thing every time any of us gets close to someone. We get exposed and our whole lives are scrutinized. I don’t want this and I am pretty sure she doesn’t want that either.”

“You are scared.”

“No.”

“Alexia, you can’t let this dictate your life.”

“You don’t understand. I can’t be distracted by all this. I can’t have people think football is not my priority.”

“They won’t. Ale you are human, you are allowed to have a life outside of football. We all saw you with her. You haven’t been this happy in a long time.” Mapi said, trying to reason with her friend. She could see that beneath this facade, the woman was simply scared to allow herself to thrive outside of football.

“It’s too late now, she probably doesn’t want anything to do with me anyway.” Alexia said.

“ I know for a fact that isn’t true. She cares about you too Alexia. Make it right.” Mapi got up and made her way down the stairs, leaving Alexia alone to think. She knew her friend was right, and she knew that the true motivation behind her decision to cut ties was fear, but the feeling was still so potent that the blond could simply not allow herself to act on her emotions. 

Alexia did not go back to practice, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the photographer who was currently dying under the harsh Spanish sun. Even after last week, the brunette still caught herself seeking out the captain on the pitch. She shook her head and tried to focus back on her job, but the heat combined with the exhaustion caused by her excessive training and lack of proper sleep was a deadly combination. 

One second she was up, the next she was on her ass with her head on her knees, concentrating hard on staying conscious. The first to notice was Lucy, who bolted across the pitch, followed closely by Sara and Kiera. 

The last thing the photographer saw was Lucy crouching down in front of her, and the feeling of her hand on her forehead before the world went black. 

Rosalie woke up in Sarah's office with her head pounding and vision blurred. As soon as she opened her eyes, Lucy was all over her, making sure that the girl had everything she needed. The older English woman managed, after some arguing, to convince Rosalie to take the rest of the week off, since she had already finished her work and the rest of the photography team could manage without her just fine for two days. 

A knock suddenly echoed in the room and a silhouette blocked the frosted glass of the door. Lucy stood up from the chair and opened the door slightly before sliding out once realizing who was at the door. Rosalie could not clearly see who was at the door, but she could hear the faint sound of talking 

“Lucia I just want to know if she is ok.” 

“ I’m telling you she’s fine. It’s just exhaustion Alexia you can relax.” Rosalie could hear a long exhale that most likely came from the blonde. 

“Alexia, if you care about her so much why did you treat her like this.” Lucy asked. The captain stayed silent, but Lucy learned a lot more from the blond’s silence than any word could explain. 

“Make it right ale.” Lucy said, echoing the words Mapi had said to her just a few hours prior. 

Rosalie heard some footsteps and soon after, the door opened softly and a disheveled blond head poked through. Once she saw that the brunette was awake, Alexia realized that she had not planned what she would say to the photographer. 

“Hey..” Her voice was so hushed and shy that Rosalie almost didn’t hear it. 

“You can come in, you don’t have to hover at the door.”

“I won’t disturb you too long. I just wanted to see if you were ok.” She said, finally stepping in the room. 

“Just a bit dizzy still, but I’m fine.” She said,

“Good.” She stood awkwardly for a moment, looking around the room unable to look the brunette in the eyes. 

“I am sorry about the things I said. I was stressed and did not think before speaking.” Alexia finally said, taking  the few steps separating her from the chair next to the exam chair. 

“It’s ok, it was the stress talking, I can understand that this kind of pressure is hard to deal with.” The younger woman said. She couldn’t deny that the initial reaction had hurt her but after a while, especially after seeing the echo it had online, she was able to understand why one would react like that. “ But I want you to know that I don’t appreciate how you blamed me and my profession for someone else’s actions.” 

Rosalie could excuse the reaction, but this part still stung. “ I am not like that, I respect and value the privacy of every player in this team.”

“I know. I am truly sorry.” The brunette offered a smile which was answered by Alexia’s shy one.

“ Do you need me to drive you home?” Alexia offered.

“Thank you but Lucy has that covered I think.” 

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Alexia asked with the slightest bit of hope in her voice.

“ I think I’ll take the next two days off and work from home if they need me.” 

“ But I’ll be there at team bonding night on Friday. The girls won’t let me miss it after disappearing on them these past two weeks.” She added when she saw the blond’s shoulder fall at her previous statement.

“ Good, I am glad you are ok Rosalia.” Alexia said, standing up and making her way to the door. “ I would like it if we could start over, be friends again.” The blond added.

“ I think we can do that.” Rosalie said with a smile.

“ Ok, you take care of yourself Rosalie please.” Alexia said before walking out of the room, leaving Rosalie alone, feeling the best she had all week.

[morgansorgans-org]

Collection of nrmt/klpl fics!

An oomf on Instagram asked if I could compile all my favorite Ace Attorney fics! They are all and Wrightworth and Klapollo fics. The first few are my favorites (usually means they made me cry or emotionally impacted me 🧍) but I like all the others I linked here ofc as well! Many of these came from rec lists on tumblr, because that’s how I started out reading aa fics!

Wrightworth fics

Legal Partners by Miggy, 132k words, 34/34 chapters, 2013

Summary: Miles Edgeworth isn't totally sure how he ended up in this bet to demonstrate the strength of his and Phoenix Wright's (entirely professional and platonic! really!) relationship, but he knows it's Klavier's fault.

Absolutely one of my most favorite fics ever, I’m not gonna lie. Genuinely so good. I was clutching my phone the entire third act of the fic, absolutely ridden with anxiety. I read for 12 hours straight that third act, during exam season, eyes absolutely bloodshot and had a splitting headache by the end because I was staring at my phone for far too long. It’s so good.

I think my biggest qualm I have with this master class of a fic if I had to say, would probably be the characterization of Klavier? he feels too straight in this I don’t know how else to put it. But honestly it’s so minor I don’t really care and I’ve read this twice (which I never do)

Project Matchmakers by WingSongHalo, 126k words, 16/16 chapters, 2018

Summary: It was quite distressing, Pearl thought. For years previously, she had been quite fixated on the idea of her cousin and Mr. Nick living happily ever after. Even after she had accepted that this would never happen, she was always somewhat enamored of the idea that one of them would someday be caught up in a whirlwind romance, passionate and adventurous.

So she was rather surprised to find herself immensely enjoying the steady, familiar relationship she saw between a defense attorney and a prosecutor. It wasn't loud or flashy or wild, but calm and reliable and quiet. Rather than a blazing fire that consumed everything, theirs was an affection like a candle flame, bringing forth light and warmth.

Well, except for when they were in court. Then they were rather more like two overzealous flamethrowers.

An excitable group of girls (and a reluctant Apollo) team up to make Phoenix and Miles realize they're crazy about each other. But are such measures really necessary?

Canon universe.

Loved this one. Very good. I loved the side casefic it had and how it affected the main characters as well. I love the everyone ships wrightworth trope so much.

A Night You’ll Never Regret by MaudMoon (Idle_Wanderings), 88k words, 7/7 chapters, 2018

Summary: After learning about a clerical error on their wedding certificate, Maggey and Gumshoe decide to go all out and invite their friends and family to a vow renewal ceremony in Las Vegas. Edgeworth, spurred on by his sister's threats encouragements, decides to use the trip as an opportunity to express feelings he's been holding onto for years.

However when Edgeworth, Larry, and Phoenix wake up the morning after Gumshoe's bachelor party, it doesn't take them long to realize things didn't go as planned: Edgeworth's cards have been declined, Larry has been mysteriously injured, and Phoenix wakes up wearing a wedding ring. And, to top it all off, Gumshoe is missing. They'll need to rush against time to find Gumshoe before his wedding, and to do that they'll need to figure out what the hell exactly happened last night.

Soooo good! I love the mystery aspect of it all and everyone recounting and slowly piecing together what happened. It’s very sweet too and also kinda nsfw be warned…. also Maya x Rhoda was definitely not what I was expecting tbh

To play due process like a fiddle by Harmony, 19k words, 1/1 chapters, 2024

Summary: As far as Miles can tell, Agent Lang's initial impression of certified hot mess Phoenix "That Man" Wright upon their first meeting wasn't exactly the most positive, and tragically enough, it's not like Miles can really blame him for having that perception.

That said, they both probably should've known that Phoenix hadn't been named the Turnabout Terror for nothing.

(Or: what it means to judge solely based on first appearances and then have all of your expectations rocked off-balance, especially when they revolve around one of the most outstanding attorneys the criminal justice system has ever known).

Deeeeeelicious. So good. Love the tension between Phoenix and Lang and them essentially kinda fighting for Edgeworth even though it’s a very skewed battle against Lang. Aaaagh

A fool in love (with you) by gen, 17k words, 1/1 chapters, 2016

Summary: Miles and Phoenix (finally, no really, after two years of being engaged) decide to tie the knot. On the day of the wedding, they are reminded of all the moments that got them there.

Sooooo cute! This one helped inspire me for my last chapter of my own wrightworth fic actually! This author actually wrote a klapollo long fic I’ve been meaning to check out actually, called The Sound of Silence. I’ve been scared off by how heavy the warnings of the angst ahead are ngl. But this one shot in contrast is very fluffy and sweet!

A Beginner’s Guide on how Not to Write Steel Samurai Fanfiction by chameleonwrites, 16k words, 6/6 chapters, 2021

Summary: Verity Baytum, a court stenographer, has a secret passion for writing Steel Samurai fanfiction based around the pairing Magisteel. When she finds an unlikely source of inspiration during her job, she can't help but watch court proceedings in search of further lines that fit her fics.

Miles Edgeworth, said source of inspiration, has a secret passion for reading Steel Samurai fanfiction based around the pairing Magisteel. It doesn't take long for him to realise the reason the characters sound like him and Wright is not due to personal projection.

I really liked this one, it’s very funny and sweet. I also realized this fic kind of predicted the name Verity for an AA character…

Yours, Mine, and Maybe Ours by estelraca, 13k words, 1/1 chapters, 2015

Summary: Phoenix convinces Miles to bring Trucy in with him for Bring Your Daughter to Work Day, despite Miles' misgivings. Everything becomes even more complicated when Kay Faraday and Shi-Long Lang call on him for assistance. Set between the original trilogy and Apollo Justice; mild spoilers for both Investigations games.

Loved this one! I really like any fics with Trucy as a bigger character (wow who knew look at all my SNS accounts with trucy pfps) especially ones that delve deeper into her relationship between her and Edgeworth.

The Prosecution Rests by Commander_Freddy, 4k words, 1/1 chapters, 2016

Summary: Miles Edgeworth goes to bed, and then wakes up.

Very good. Short but impactful and angsty and sweet. Commander Freddy has some other very good AA fics you should check out also.

Archeology by sunsmasher, 8k words, 1/1 chapters, 2014

Summary: Phoenix and Maya finally clean out Mia's office. Far, far too many people help.

Very short but very good. Deals with Mia grief and also has side Wrightworth content.

To Their Happiness by ,,,,, 41k words, 10/10 chapters, 2024

Summary: Trucy Wright sees that her daddy's friend, Miles Edgeworth, makes him happy in a way she can't. She knows he's sad and lonely, despite trying his best to hide it from her. She makes a promise to herself that she would try to have Miles around as often as she could, for his happiness.

Or, an evolution of Wrightworth's relationship through Trucy's eyes. Trucy and co. sees Phoenix and Miles feel that special way that adults feel for each other and tries to matchmake them. It's mostly Trucy doing that, though.

teehee. you think I wouldn’t go without promoting my OWN fic? you thought wrong!!! I’m also working on a Klapollo fic (it’s like 37k words so far) but I’ll be lucky if it gets uploaded by the end of 2024 with the pace I’m writing it at. It’s so close to completion though…

Klapollo fics

Hot for Justice by indirectkissesiniceland, 43k words, 26/26 chapters, 2013

Summary: After the events of State v. Misham, Klavier finds himself in a slump, stressed at the prosecutor's office and unable to pen new songs. To his surprise, he finds creative inspiration—and unexpected feelings—spending time with Apollo. Now if only he could release the new tracks without raising any suspicion as to whom his love songs are for.

God, is there a klapollo fic rec list without Hot for Justice on it? It’s such a classic, and rightfully so. This fic also inspired me as well to write my next fic! It’s just this good.

Vacation All I Wanted by JJsADragon, 111k words, 24/24 chapters, 2020

Summary: “A vacation?” Apollo asked.

“Yeah! You know what a vacation is, right Polly? When are you going to get another opportunity like this? A beach vacation? A pool? It’s not like you could afford this place without splitting the cost.”

One condo. Six lawyers. Seven secret plans. What could possibly go wrong?

This fic is like. A need I go on? Moment. It’s so iconic and good. This along with Legal Partners probably permanently organized my brain chemistry, I think. Good god the angst. The fluff. this fic genuinely made me sob which. A book hasn’t done that to me in a very long time! there’s a scene where Apollo talks about grief and that was very relatable. This fic also does breach the subject of suicidal ideation, but it is brief. In general this is a lighthearted fic!

If it’s really me you seek by seamint, 83k words, 21/21 chapters, 2021

Summary: “Anyway,” Ema keeps going, fully ignoring his sarcasm in favor of staring at a neat corner where the walls meet the ceiling. “I asked if he wanted to go to your party together, but he said he wasn’t going.”

“What?” Apollo suddenly finds it very hard to breathe. “Why?”

“Hell if I know,” Ema says nonchalantly, but then she turns to him with a smirk. “See if you can figure it out: I believe he told me, and I quote—ahem—'Ach, I would, Fräulein, but I believe Herr Justice would be more comfortable without me there.’”

Or, when Apollo comes home from Khura'in only to learn that Prosecutor Gavin is avoiding him, the last thing he expected was for Gavin to offer to let Apollo stay at his house while he looks for a new apartment.

It’s been a hot minute since I read this one (one of the first klapollo fics I read) but this one was veryyy good. Very much inspired me. Honestly all of Seamint’s stuff is good.

And if all my wishes could come true by seamint, 45k words, 8/8 chapters, 2022

Summary: “‘Our son’ my ass. You’re getting way too into this,” Apollo grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Is this your dream? Do you dream of being divorced and paying alimony, Gavin?”

Klavier doesn’t tell him that as far as dreams go, his is to live in a world where a relationship with Apollo, past tense or otherwise, is at all possible. Apollo doesn’t need specifics, or terrible confessions in vet clinics that show how badly Klavier wants to play pretend with him.

Or, Klavier, Apollo, and how cats bring people together in the most convoluted ways possible.

Looove this. Very fluffy. Mikeko being the center of attention as well and that’s of course why we’re reading this who cares abt klapollo frrr

Turnabout Dungeons (and Dragons) by Synthpop, 170k words, 33 chapters, 2016

Summary: According to Mr. Wright, Dungeons and Dragons is good, if not crucial, for cultivating trusting relationships between friends and coworkers. Apollo has his doubts.

So goood. I love D&D and Klapollo and this is the perfect mix of this. Bard klavier, paladin apollo, need I go on? Phoenix is the dungeon master and Ema, Trucy, Athena and Simon are also apart of the party as well

can I go where you go by parchmints, 40k words, 6/6 chapters, 2021

Summary: Apollo Justice has rotten luck: he actually wins the grand prize for a mail-in contest, but It's a couple's getaway to a fancy ski lodge in the mountains and Apollo is aggressively single. With no one to go with, Apollo offers them to Klavier since surely, a rockstar would be able to find a date before then, but Klavier has a better idea—they go together and pretend they're a couple. That way, they both get a vacation, plus free food and wine.

And well, Apollo's never been one to pass up free food.

So good!!! There’s some wonderful art in this one as well!! I remember being super hooked by this one and giggling over the fake dating stuff. Loved it

Things are as they are by hechima, 34k words, 3/3 chapters, 2021

Summary: Klapollo cabin fic. That's really all this is.

Need I say more? Yes, two cabin fic recs back to back. One cabin in the snow and the other in some desert. Loved the character analysis in this one.

Gravity by Euphorion, 46k words, 7/7 chapters, 2014

Summary: In the aftermath of his brother's arrest, Klavier is trying to balance his law career and a solo music career, with some success—but with less savory consequences as well. His fans are fixating on every aspect of his life, desperate for his attention and jealous of his relationships with the people around him. They've singled out his courtroom rival, Apollo Justice, as the target of their frustrations.

hooo boy this one is pretty angsty in a way. Lots of things going on in this one. We have some crazy Gavinners fans in this, endangerment of lives, stalking, mail… it’s a bit dark but very engaging!

It’s all that I am and all that I have by eternalmagic, 58k words, 12/12 chapters, 2016

Summary: Apollo sucks in a breath, attempting to steel his nerves. Should he honestly send this...? He doesn't even know who this man is. This is a huge, huge mistake. But, even so, he hits send before he can remind himself of how awful an idea this is.

Dear You,

I think I love you. Just wanted you to know.

From,

Me

Klavier's phone pings with an email notification, and the moment he reads it, the smile fades from his face. God, this was so much easier when he didn't know that the sender hated him in real life.

[ or, the you've got mail au. ]

Sooo good! I’ve never watched the movie before, and honestly, you don’t have to. It’s very engaging and oh my goddd the angst you have to get through to get to the fluff…. So worth it.

Anyway, Here’s Guilty Love by u_andcloud, 129k words, 22/22 chapters

Summary: The entirety of Ivy U is smitten with Klavier Gavin—with one exception. Apollo Justice could do without Klavier’s constant presence in the quad, where he serenades passerby with acoustic versions of his band's songs. Apollo is also not particularly fond of Klavier’s clothes, his hair, his tendency to sprinkle German into his conversations, or the fact that, despite all of this, Klavier is still at the top of the class.

So when Klavier asks Apollo to help him start a club for aspiring lawyers on campus, Apollo isn’t entirely sure why he accepts. It’s a resume builder, he tells himself. It’s not like he has to like the guy.

Except, well....he's starting to think that he might.

[Or, a simple college AU turned AA4 re-imagining.]

AHHHHH. College AU fic set in Ivy U. In AU fics like these, I’m always interested in how the author will deal with Kristoph, considering his story is so intertwined with both Apollo and Klavier. This fic did it so well and seamlessly my goddd. I loved it.

Undeniable you (the currents pulling me onward) by experimentaldragonfire, 59k words, 11/11 chapters, 2020

Summary: Kristoph Gavin is found dead in his prison cell, and Klavier Gavin is the prime suspect.

With nobody else available to defend him, Apollo Justice flies in from Khura'in to take the case--but during the course of the trial and its aftermath, long-hidden secrets come to light.

I looove Klavier being suspected of murder fics. They executed this concept very well. I know abt experimentaldragonfire as they were one of the hosts for the klapollo minibang (2024) I was apart of! Their writing is indeed, fire. Check out their other fics as well!

Apollo Justice: Between the Cases by joggingoctopus, 84k words, 18/18 chapters, 2023

Summary: What happened between cases in the Apollo Justice game? Here's one way things could have played out!

A retelling of apollo Justice, kind of! I really liked how the author explained some of the stuff in Ace Attorney, and it will go into my personal AA belief system I think. They also have a sequel fic which I’ve yet to read bc im very scared! (Clay things)

Delicate by ronsenberg, 30k words, 5/5 chapters, 2020

Summary: Everything about the situation is wrong, from the suitcase in Apollo’s arms to the blaring of car horns from the cars waiting behind him. It doesn’t matter. “I have been thinking-” he starts, voice faltering. It is very unlike him to be at such a loss for words, but he has never found himself in a situation quite like this before. “Ach, wondering, really-”

Apollo raises his brow, glancing at the digital clock on the dash and back into Klavier’s eyes in quick succession. “Klavier, my flight-”

“-Marry me?” The words come out in a rushed and poorly articulated interruption. Apollo blinks, his mouth falling slightly open in surprise. “When you come back, ja? Marry me.”

A Post-Spirit of Justice Proposal fic.

As of writing this right now, I just finished this fic so it’s very fresh in my memory! I really liked it! The way they wrote what would most likely be a realistic depiction of Klapollo if it were to happen in real life. It has all the downs and lows and the highs that you’d expect in a realistic relationship.

Glowing embers dying fire by virtualmushroom, 88k words, 20/20 chapters, 2023

Summary: Klavier has a crush on Apollo and he makes that abundantly clear.

Apollo, however, is oblivious and takes Klavier's enamored flirting for simple teasing. After all, why would a famous prosecutor rockstar come to like an "average" guy like him?

Despite that, Apollo comes to unlearn the preconception he has of Klavier and see beyond his mask, into the person he really is, someone not as cheerful as he may appear.

An also realistic in-canon depiction of Klapollo I really like! This was also written by my good friend!

Words Come Fluently by ItsyRoyal, 50k words, 12/12 chapters, 2021

Summary: Klavier Gavin is the most famous rockstar in the world. Guilty Love is about to go platinum and the tour sold out fourteen stadiums. So there's really, really no reason why one anonymous music critic on Youtube who hates him should get under his skin. And yet somehow he'd do just about anything to convince MikekoMusic to like him.

Apollo has been doing Youtube as a fun side hustle while he tries to break into the talent management industry, and he's just landed an assistant gig working for Kristoph Gavin. Whose main client is his golden boy younger brother. Whose music Apollo has been anonymously trashing for years.

Yeah, this is all going to go fine.

auuuuuuuuuuugh oh my god the DRAMA in this. Really good. The best part about this is the reassurance of no murders and clay BEING ALIVE!! I love clay alive fics, esp if they’re of him reacting to Klapollo.

Mission Control by ForeheadandFop, 12k words, 1/1 chapters, 2015

Summary: Like any good friend, Clay takes an interest in Apollo's career; he can't help it if the most interesting part is Klavier.

Loved this as well. Very good. It fulfills my needs of clay reacting to klapollo as mentioned above but however. This is canon compliant….🧍happy ending though …

I think that’s it for my list for recommendations! Sorry a lot of them are long fics 😭😭

[thedevilspearl]

➛ what happens in the shower

a/n: so i really love the idea of using the scent of the person you love in order to feel close to them, like perfume or shampoo. so when mc and lucifer make the next move in their relationship, they’re both too embarrassed to admit what they have done in order to feel closer to one another.

tags: 2.2k words, lucifer x female reader, male and female masturbation, minors do not interact!

“so….you’re finally making the big move, huh?”

lucifer isn’t phased by his brother’s prying. in fact, he is more than used to them getting involved in his business, be it professional or personal.

you, however, are taken aback by mammon’s question and his nonchalant tone when he asks, as if he was expecting this all along. clearing your throat after choking on your orange juice, you glance towards the head of the table expecting lucifer to have your back and announce the news himself.

but his mind is occupied by something else, it seems, and you finally confirm the brothers’ suspicions.

“y–yeah,” you stutter. “i’m moving into lucifer’s room….officially.”

“took ya long enough,” mammon whines. “you guys aren’t as good at sneaking around as ya think! ya should’ve asked the great mammon for a lesson or two. i’m an expert in sneaking around.”

“that’s a lie,” asmo deadpans. “you’re the last person she should take lessons from when it comes to sneaking around. i, for one, know everything about secret love.”

“not that it was a secret, anyways,” satan chimes in. “everyone knew you two were together, arguably before you knew about it yourselves.”

the table erupts with snickers and you look to lucifer again for any form of comfort. breaking the news may have meant little to the brothers, but to you, it meant a lot to finally announce yourselves as a couple making the next move in your relationship.

but lucifer, again, is distracted by something else. he eyes his brothers one by one with narrow slits as he chews slowly on his breakfast. he’s speculating something….something you don’t want to concern yourself with as of now.

so you join in the casual conversation with the others whilst finishing your plate, leaving lucifer with his own thoughts.

the eldest, on the other hand, cannot rest his mind until he has found the culprit.

he smelt it as soon as he entered the dining room this morning. a familiar scent, manly and expensive. he can recognise his luxury shower gel anywhere. it wouldn’t be the first time his brothers borrowed his shower gel. but there was an unspoken rule, even with mammon, to always ask before using.

and as far as he knows, nobody in the last twenty–four hours so much as mentioned his shower gel. yet, it’s the only thing he can smell this morning.

he’s so lost in his thoughts, fantasizing about how he will make the culprit confess and what punishment he will thrust upon them, that he doesn’t realise when you and his brothers begin packing your bags and setting off for school.

he even misses the chance to walk you to school himself, the opportunity stolen by one of his brothers. a heavy sigh escapes him as he finally leaves the house of lamentation no wiser to who actually used his shower gel.

EARLIER THAT MORNING...

you moving into his bedroom has been on lucifer’s mind lately.

you’ve been sleeping there every single night, even if it took some sneaking around to get yourself into his warm, silk sheets. some nights, you’d be there before he retired from his study only to find you sound asleep on his side of the bed.

lucifer dislikes mess but whenever he sees your clothes strewn about his room and filling up his wardrobe in an uncoordinated manner, it fills his heart with comfort more than disdain.

and he would usually prefer his mornings and nights alone with his classical music winding him down, finding solace in his own company. but never once has he been irked by your presence during his alone time.

so, when lucifer wakes up this morning with you snuggled into his chest, his heart melts at the sight and more so at the realisation that you’re more or less living in his bedroom now.

having claimed it as your own in every way other than in writing, he wonders if it’s time to mention it and clear up any lingering misunderstanding about your….situation.

while his mind is whirring away trying to configure the right words to approach you about it, your sleepy frame shifts in his hold and your eyes flutter open. with a yawn, you rub the remnants of sleep from your eyes.

“morning, luci.”

oh, how lucifer could drown in your sweet voice.

“good morning, my love. did you sleep well?”

“i always sleep well when i’m with you.” you hum with a smile and bury yourself further into his body.

“about that…” he knows it’s too soon in the day, let alone the morning, to bring up the topic but he knows if he doesn’t do it now, he’ll grow to anxious and avoid the conversation completely. “have you thought about moving here permanently?”

“hm? but i already live here…”

“i mean,” he inhales to stop his little chuckle at your sleepiness. “moving into my bedroom.”

“oh,” you take a moment to ponder. “well, that would be nice. i don’t want to overstep, of course. and only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“my love, if i was not comfortable, you would not have been sharing my bed with me for the last few months. besides, most of your things are in here so it would only make sense to move in here completely. that is….if you want to.”

“of course, i want to,” you lean up and place a kiss on his cheek. “thank you, luci.”

his heart thrums with excitement. “well, that’s settled. let me know if you need help moving your things over. but i doubt you’d need any since most of your things are already here.” a smug smile dresses his face.

no one could ever understand how much happiness he’s experiencing, not even you.

“does that mean i can use you shower, too? it’s so much nicer than mine.”

“of course, my love. what’s mine is yours now. forever.”

“oh, luci…”

“now, now. don’t get teary so early in the morning or we’ll be late for school. go take a shower and i’ll meet you downstairs for breakfast.”

he sends you on your way with one last kiss and you skip into the bathroom, spinning giddily and you switch on the water, letting it run before stripping your pyjamas. you step in when the water turns hot and melt under the warmth.

but you’re eager to see lucifer again, missing him even though he’s just downstairs making breakfast for everyone. if he were with you right now, so you could hold him and feel safe in his arms. simply being able to smell him would make you happy.

the thought alone has you grabbing lucifer’s shower gel. he will certainly be mad but you’re too far gone to care. if it makes you feel close to him, it’s worth it.

with your back against the tiled wall, you pour the gel over your body, giving your tits a squeeze as foam begins to form. lucifer’s rich scent covers your body and your skin tingles in response, as if the shower gel on your skin were his own hands tracing every inch of you.

your skin burns and it’s not from the water, but from the desire to have lucifer touch you and tease you, to claim your body as his and show you otherworldly pleasures.

but you and lucifer are at an odd place in your relationship. comfortable with sharing a bed every night but not quite ready to make the next move intimately. as much as you’d wish lucifer could make you feel good, you only have yourself to relieve your neediness this morning.

taking your lip between your teeth, you swallow a moan as you fondle your nipples, using your thumb and forefinger to tease and flick them. the wetness of the shower makes it easier to imagine lucifer’s hot tongue playing with them as he looks up at you with hooded eyes.

your hand reaches between your legs, spreading the foam to your pussy. you brush over yourself, back arching already with heightened sensitivity. your fingers slip between your fold and you rub in slow circles.

you’re no longer concerned with washing yourself in this shower, but to devoting your morning entirely to lucifer despite him not being there. you can think of only him as you become more desperate for release.

ensuring you give your breasts attention, you keep one hand on them, cupping and squeezing them while the other works between your spread legs, rubbing erratically on your sensitive clit.

“ah!” you gasp, feeling your orgasm approach you quickly. and you don’t relent as a wave of pleasure washes over you. your knees tremble, about to give way as you’re overcome with bliss.

it takes minutes to relax from the tension of your orgasm but when you can finally stand on stable legs, you wash away the shower gel with an embarrassed hope that lucifer won’t realise some of it is missing.

LATER THAT NIGHT...

an entire day goes by in an instant, filled with many activities. classes were normal, save for a little trouble from the brothers. but you were always there to help lucifer keep them in line.

water gushing against lucifer’s back elicites a deep groan from him. a hot shower is exactly what he needs right now.

with hands against the steamy tills, he holds his body up with aching muscles. another long and busy day had drained his energy and he craves your presence to ease his body and mind.

he’s about to reach for his bottle of gel before he pauses, eyes caught by a pop of colour. he picks up the bottle which was placed next to his and reads the label. some fancy, floral shower gel.

his heart warms and cheeks burn hotter than the water rushing over his body. you finally brought over your things to his room. you’ve officially moved in.

lucifer is overwrought with happiness that he pops open the bottle for a whiff of your scent, hoping it would make him feel close to you.

and it works, albeit, a little too much.

his body reacts in an instant, blood rushing to his cock and he should feel ashamed that an erection is his first instinct in response smelling you. but you smell so good and he can’t help himself.

nothing can stop him as he spills some into his palm, running it under the water before rubbing over his chest, allowing lather to form and your scent to fill the bathroom.

“fuck,” he pants and runs his hands down his torso over his defined abs, moving slowly to his cock. “what are you doing to me?”

he’s ashamed; no one has ever had this much control over him. even when he’s alone, he can hear your voice ordering him to stroke, using the lubrication of the foam to ease himself to a state of complete relaxation.

up and down, he jerks his cock slowly, allowing it to harden before he decides to grip himself tighter. his moans are strangled, unable to escape his throat as he tries to keep the noise to a minimum.

one hand is splayed on the wet tiles, bones and veins popping through his flexed muscle and skin as water drips from his body.

while his other hand pumps faster, harder; he can’t stop himself. he’s desperate for release, imagining you in the shower with him, on your knees stroking him and sucking him. oh, how he wishes his fantasy was reality.

he’s engulfed entirely in your scent and you are the only thing on his mind as thick ropes of cum spurt from his raging cock. thrusting his hips into his fist, he rides out his orgasm, letting himself release over and over again.

his raspy moans and gasps are drowned out by the sound of running water and he collapses against the wall, letting the last of the foam and cum wash away.

when lucifer finally plops down beside you in your now shared bed, you embrace him immediately. he doesn’t have a chance to shift into a comfortable position before you lay on top of him, limbs wrapped around him so tightly that he’d never escape.

not that he would try to escape; this is heaven to him.

he brushes your hair to the side as he asks you about your day, breathing into your neck to smell the smell he loves so much. only, the smell of his own shower gel fills his nose.

“hm,” his voice rumbles, fatigue evident. but there’s softness in his tone now he can finally relax with you. “you smell like…”

you stop him immediately, burying your head into his neck to hide your burning cheeks or else he’d figure out what you’d done in the shower this morning. but when your nose grazes against his skin, you’re met with a sweet and fresh scent, one that reminds you very much of the shower gel you placed in the bathroom hours ago.

did he….?

you can’t bear to look up, or to even speak. never had it occurred to you that lucifer would do the exact same thing. his body stiffens beneath you and he’s silent, knowing that you know his little secret, one that he just so happens to share with you.

your hearts thrum against each other’s chests, but neither of you say a word. and you prefer it that way because you are far too embarrassed to have this conversation. and lucifer feels the same, silently accepting the new unspoken rule between you.

what happens in the shower, stays in the shower.

[wannabepoeticischiya]

if I can stop one heart from breaking

[ 01 ] — the offer

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He existed in the morning dew, in the afternoon haze, within the illusions of twilight. He was there. In the silence of midnight, in the wake of dawn... he was there.

Hoshina Soushiro was everywhere... except right here. He existed in every corner of the cosmos-just not in the space beside her.

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f! reader genre: romance, angst wc: 46.5k status: completed art by: keumza on twitter

“Hoshina-dono, thank you for accepting.”

“Nonsense, Uehara-san! The union between our clans will open many opportunities for the future!”

Empty-eyed, the offering of the Uehara Clan stared far off into yonder: tired, hopeless, shackled by the thought that this would be nothing but a marriage of convenience—and it will. One that is fated to leave her on her death bed, reminiscing memories of unhappiness and regret, leaving in her wake a catastrophe of regrets; plagued by the thought of what it could have been—who she could have become—the life she could have been living… if only she had done things differently.

If only you did not come to me that day…

The Uehara heir was not ignorant; often being told that she was too intuitive for her own good—that her own self self-assurance would one day be her downfall.

So, when her father had called upon her that fateful day, she knew that the fate her family had set for her would soon begin, and she would—without question nor reluctance—obey what they wished.

Because that is what they expected of her.

… if only you had left me to this cruel fate.

As twilight faded and the canvas overhead was dyed with midnight, life echoed by the city stilled into silence within the grounds of the Hoshina estate. The late winter breeze rustled the undergrowth that littered the gardens, taking the blossoms of the cherry trees into a never-ending waltz towards the horizons of the sky. Moonlight flooded through the cracks left by the clouds, flowing like water over the cheerless hue painted upon the face of a girl still restless at this unearthly hour. Slender fingers trapping a handful of golden fabric in between their grip, soiling her once pristine kimono.

“Who are you?”

Without a single second to spare, the woman had crossed the distance separating her from the intruder—nothing but a knife to his throat standing in between them.

[Name] swore she could feel her heart itching to escape from its entrapment, her blood circulating far too fast for her head to catch up—her weapon, slowly but surely, crossing the gap to meet the flesh of the poor soul that had carelessly walked in on her, stopping only when the voice raised once more to put a halt to her intentions.

“Hey—Hey! Relax. I only asked who you were…”

Urgency rippled in the waters of her stomach, certainly not having expected such a warm tone to flow from the lips of the trespasser. The Uehara heir expected a nosy servant, or at the direst of situations—an assassin. A frightened protest or even a calm proclamation would’ve been the anticipated outcome, certainly not… whatever this is.

[Name]’s gaze lingered on her hands that threatened to take the life of the person before her, rising like fireworks on New Year’s Eve; painting the abyssal canvas overhead with their trails of fire, disappearing momentarily into the heavens, leaving silence in their wake—only for them to burst forth into multitudes of color. Illuminating the darkened sky even if it was for just a few moments.

And she felt the same.

[Name]’s kaleidoscope of colors exploded at the sight of him. Moonlight shaded his face in a warm hue, decorating the eyes that looked at her with a thousand glimmers, as though the stars nestled in the depths of the cosmos were made just so they could replicate the shimmer in his irises. Threads of violet covered the distance above his forehead, swaying with the gentle gale gifted by the season of autumn. Carved upon his lips was an anxious smile as he looked at the weapon pressing against his neck before trailing his gaze to the one holding it.

He did not hold it against the woman that the initial thought she had having discovered his existence was to take his life. How could he? When he had every intention to observe her undetected; failing shortly because he could not stop the foolish question from leaving his curious lips.

It wasn’t every day that a visitor stepped foot into the estate… much less a woman.

Wine-red irises reflected the eyes that glowered at him with such ferocity. Eyes that shone like fire in the darkened room, like they could cover him in warmth yet burn him if they so ever wished. Her hands that looked as though they did not work a single day in their life, smooth with no remnants of scars, but held a blade like they’d known the harsh territory of the enemy.

At the sight of her, he wondered… would they someday slip through his own? Would her fingers twine with his like vines should the threads of fate decide to weave the tapestry of her destiny into his? Would her gaze burn through him and send him to damnation? Or would they envelop him in mellowness for the rest of eternities to come?

“I should be the one asking you that—who are you?” A harsh tone shattered his reverie, dragging him back to reality where he stands with a blade being pressed further into his neck. It split his skin open, and flowers of crimson blossomed into waterfalls—far from the daydreams of his life in happily ever after.

“Did someone send you?” The woman coerced; for every step he took to get away from her blade, she took one equal step forward. And this would progress until he would find himself cornered with nothing but an answer deemed worthy by her as his decree for freedom.

“Mark my words, I will have your head before you even think of stepping foot outside this room.”

As someone from a clan whose prowess lies with the blade, he found it pathetic that he could not get the upper hand in this situation: here, in his own household, with a weapon that was supposed to be his claim to fame now being used to threaten to snuff out his life.

He knew he could overpower her in a single move, one small gesture would’ve been enough to turn the tables in on her. But he stood there, frozen. Like he could be��everything, but he still chose not to be anything.

Because for a small moment, it felt like all the hardships and failures he endured to perfect his abilities… had faded into serenity. The tears he shed, his hands that bled for heaven knows how many times, the callouses—scars—wounds—everything… they all dwindled into a dull ache until they remained as nothing but a distant echo. All the hurt and the pain… stilled into silence. Like they didn’t matter… or that he simply had no use for them anymore.

Because when time came to a standstill—there was no Kaiju, no Defense Force, there was nothing to prove, and there was nothing to gain.

There existed only him and her.

In the infinite grandeur of the cosmos, of all the stars and galaxies to have ever formed, every rift in time, the universes he could’ve been born in—here, in this moment… he found her.

“Hey, calm down—” He tried to bargain, attempting to grab the knife from [Name]’s hold. Because despite feeling at ease, she still had a weapon, and he didn’t. But he soon found himself with the world trailing upside down at a rate he was not used to, his front colliding with the floor he stood upon not even a second ago, with just enough luck to not have bitten off his tongue in the process. A weight was dumped on his back, from both the woman and her ridiculously heavy clothing.

“Ack. Ow. Get off. You’re really heavy.” He wheezed, trying to push her off; finding that his limbs were being pressured by her kimono. Seriously, how many layers do those things have?

A rhythmic tune echoed within the four corners of the room, seemingly putting everything to a stop; fleetingly distracting the man submerged in the sea of fabric from his impending demise. The silence stretched on for what felt like forever, before a muffled voice spoke the words, “Uehara-sama? Are you alright? I heard something fall…”

The man underneath [Name] looked towards the door in hopeful glee, glad to have another path paved to liberty. But his sanguine daydream of salvation shattered as a spine-crawling breath rattled his body into full alert.

“Servants.” she whispered, her lips grazing just above the lobe of his ear, the contact sending pins and needles all the way to the tips of his toes. “Now you have nowhere to run. Speak of your intentions and I will give you a painless death.”

“I would—but you’re... you’re crushing my windpipe.” He tapped the floor in desperation; it was an action he saw his opponents would often do. Berating them for being over dramatic, or that they needed to work on their breath control if they lost it to something as measly as being sat on. Now, he was the one feeling the consequences of having his oxygen circulation cut short, and it wasn’t pleasant.

As a last resort for a chance of deliverance, he tried to yell to the other person behind the door, “Aoi—” only to have a cloth intercept his cries for aid.

“Shh.”

“Uehara-sama?” Aoi, or so he had called, remained behind the screens.

[Name] grabbed a fistful of what looked to be violet hair and raised his head to give him a clear view of the door, where the light from the hallway met the closed shoji screens, letting in enough luminescence to see the shadows of the two figures on the floor but dull enough not to be able to put a face to them. “You’re really asking to be killed.”

The head [Name] held by the hair shook in refusal, his vision blurring and clouding over, feeling his chest rise in an erratic manner as he tried to catch the breath he was losing, fast.

Lost in the fields of her thoughts, [Name] failed to hear the warning of the servant behind the door, nor was she quick enough to stop Aoi from sliding it open.

“I’m coming in, my lady—Hoshina-sama?” [Name] stared at the silhouette of the attendant standing by the threshold, startled by both her sudden appearance… and the name that flowed from her tongue.

Did she just say Hoshina?

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pls believe me when I say this was supposed to be a one shot... but someone went overboard someone is me.

[blues824]

hello! First of all i enjoy your writing alot! Can u write an imagine/headcanons of Malleus, Riddle and ruggie (seperatly) with a Fem! Reader who's obsessed with shopping and drags them excitedly to the mall? Reader has them trying on outfits like a silly fashion show and etc! And can u make them and the reader in a relationship already? Thank you i hope you're doing well! 💗💗

Because you only requested three characters, I am making the scenarios longer.

Riddle Rosehearts

He just can’t find it in himself to say no to you when you ask him with puppy dog eyes if you two could go to the mall on the weekend. Plus, Trey and Cater pointed out that you had been following each of the Queen’s rules as well as maintaining a good grade in all of your classes, and thus deserved a break like this.

So it was a date that the Housewarden found himself very excited for. It wasn’t everyday that he got to take his girlfriend off of campus and go do something she liked to do, so this was a once-in-a-while opportunity. The town wasn’t far away from NRC either; just at the bottom of the mountain that NRC was built upon. Thus you wouldn’t waste a bunch of time commuting.

When Saturday rolled around, he heard a knock on his dorm room as he was getting ready. He opened the door to see you in a casual outfit, ready to head out. He was ready too, and he made sure that he had his wallet before leaving. As you both exited the Heartslabyul doors, he yelled out to Trey that he would be in charge while he was away with you. You took him by the hand as you dragged him to the bus that was taking students down the mountain.

During the bus ride, he was looking up some of the stores that were within the mall. You were peering over his shoulder as you made an effective plan on the places you were going to visit, since you were aware that Riddle preferred to have this kind of thing organized. You then pressed a kiss to his cheek and thanked him for agreeing to come with you, and he just had a dopey grin as his mind went completely empty.

Within the mall, you just let out a gasp as you looked at the huge building. You turned to look at Riddle and he asked you where you wanted to head to first. You pointed to a nearby clothing store that had a dress in the window that looked super cute, and he took your hand in his before leading you inside. You took him to the dressing rooms after choosing a few different outfits, and you asked which ones he liked more. There were a few that exposed a bit more skin than he was comfortable with, so he was definitely flustered for a few minutes.

The next store was actually a men’s store, so he was kind of confused as to why you chose to go there. You said that he needed a few more outfits and maybe even a few matching ones like you had so that people could tell that you were a couple. You picked a few that you thought he would like and you had him go try them on. You sat outside of the changing rooms, scrolling through some of your friends’ Magicam posts when your boyfriend called your name.

You looked up and saw that he was wearing some black pants, a white button up, and a red sweater over it. You stood and walked over to him to adjust his collar, and as you were doing that he asked if he looked alright. You gave him a kiss on the lips as you stated that it looked great, and you asked if he felt comfortable as he was the one wearing it. He nodded his head, so you went to the cashier to purchase the clothes before making your way to the next store.

Ruggie Bucchi

The only concern he has is how much money he’s going to be spending, but you told him that you had been working at the Mostro Lounge to save up money for this, and that Leona offered to loan some money as well (totally not because you threatened to wake him up with ice cold water every morning and drag him by the tail to classes if he didn’t). So, he was pretty excited to go with you.

As the days ticked by, the hyena was getting more and more excited. Honestly, it was annoying to the Savanaclaw Housewarden because Ruggie kept messing things up because he wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing. You weren’t in a very different state, considering it was the first time in a while where you were able to go on a proper date with your hard working boyfriend.

When Saturday arrived, he was super happy. He got ready in just five minutes before he ran to your dorm, where you were about to head to Savanaclaw. After laughing at the coincidence, Ruggie took your hand in his and pulled you to the bus that was taking students to the village at the bottom of the mountain. Because it was 9 in the morning, it was a bit chilly, so you squeezed his hand because it was warm.

If we’re being honest, this trip was a spontaneous thing that you wanted, so he was just going to be following you around. He listened intently as you went on about some of the stores you saw online and how you wanted to visit as many stores as possible. His tail was definitely wagging in pure happiness at just being able to be with you when he’s been so busy lately.

Anyways, he wasn’t surprised when you spotted a really cute outfit in one of the shops’ windows and dragged him in. He would be the kind to look at different articles of clothing and hold them up to you, trying to picture an entire outfit. You brought the right guy for the job, as he’s done this before a few times but in thrift stores. Actually, he had a pretty decent sense of style, and you saw that in the outfit he came with you in.

After you got some food at the food court, you spotted a store that you wanted to go into. Ruggie was just going to follow you without a word, but he noticed that it was for men’s apparel. He, too, was very confused as to why you wanted to go in there, and you said that you wanted to buy him an outfit that matched the one you had purchased from one of the prior stores. The entire idea was absolutely adorable, and so he went to try on the clothes.

A few moments later, he emerged from the changing room in a light orange hoodie with some distressed jeans. You chose the hoodie because 1) you could steal it when Ruggie wore it enough so that it smelled like him and 2) it matched a dress you got earlier. He asked if you chose the hoodie to steal it, and you just shushed him jokingly as you hugged him. The hyena started laughing before wrapping his arms around you in return.

Malleus Draconia

This man was so happy when you asked him if he would go to the mall with you on the weekend, because he never gets invited to anything. Plus, a date with his beloved sounds absolutely amazing, so he asked Lilia if he could go. The bat fae was definitely very excited, so he cleared Malleus’s schedule as well as informed the other two knights that he would not need a security detail for a simple date. Sebek was kind of hysterical, but this isn’t about him.

He could have very well manipulated time and made it move faster, but he knew that patience was rewarded. The entirety of Diasomnia could sense the pure joy radiating from the dragon fae, and did their best to make sure that no one or no thing got in the way of his good mood. He, however, didn’t notice because the only thing he paid attention to was the way you were also beaming about your date.

Malleus had to admit to his retainers as well as his guardian that he had no idea what to wear to something as casual as a date to the mall. All of his clothing was either for school, or for more formal occasions. He opted on some black dress pants as well as a white button-up and some comfortable dress shoes, and he grabbed the flowers he purchased before and showed up at Ramshackle. The gesture made you a bit flustered, but you put the bouquet in a vase of water and took his hand in yours and led him to the bus.

During the ride to the bottom of the mountain, he asked you why you wanted to go on the vehicle rather than just allow him to teleport you there. You told him that you knew that as a royal member, he might not have had experience with the life of an ‘ordinary commoner’ and thus wanted to provide that perspective. He then said that you were not an ordinary commoner, but rather the princess to his prince.

You made a joking comment that he looked like your sugar daddy instead of your boyfriend, especially since he insisted that he pays for everything you wanted while you were there. He didn’t get it, but it didn’t matter. Then, you spotted a dress that looked so cute, and Malleus waited outside of the dressing room. He thought it looked absolutely beautiful on you when you came out and gave him a bit of a twirl. This guy has a whole other way of testing out the length of dresses. He will dip you down and kiss you in front of everyone to see where it raises on your leg. So that’s what he did, and he seemed satisfied with the modesty of the length.

Anyways, you brought him to the food court so that the two of you could get a bite to eat. He made you laugh by saying that he preferred the fast food over Lilia’s cooking, and he was practically inhaling his food. Once you were finished, you started walking through the mall when you spotted a men’s store. Your prince here was kind of confused as to why you wanted to go in there, and you said that he needed some casual outfits and you dragged him into the shop.

There, you immediately spotted some black ripped jeans as well as a few muscle t-shirts and hoodies that you had him try on. He admitted that he did like how the shirts outlined his muscles so that he could impress you a tad more. Also, the clothes were a lot more comfortable than the formal things he typically wears, so he purchased them and walked out wearing them. All in all, you both considered this date successful.

[silkjade]

our lives are made in these small hours

Featuring—tighnari, alhaitham, kaveh ⤀ summary: in the most peaceful form of love, life is brightened by even the most mundane of moments ⤀ warnings: gn!reader, fluff ! a/n: this was sitting in my drafts for a long time

— 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈

Soft streams of sunlight weave their way between the thickets of avidhya forest until they make their way through the windows of your bedroom. It’s comfortably warm as it hits your face, much like the sleeping figure beside you. Blinking away the sleep from your eyes, you turn to face the forest ranger you’re lucky enough to call your boyfriend.

It’s rare enough that tighnari has a day off, and even rarer still for him to sleep in, so you obviously don’t want to wake him yet. You prop yourself up as gently as possible, careful not to create too much movement on your shared bed, and take in the sight before you.

He’s always handsome, but a sleeping tighnari is a different sight to behold— one you don’t get to see very often, as he tends to rise far earlier than you, so you don’t fault yourself for falling victim at the mesmerizing way the early morning sun dapples across his skin, or how the short pieces of his fringe fall loosely over his full lashes. Your gaze makes its way upward, toward his long ears and how compellingly soft they look, ebbing and flowing in line with his breathing.

Just the tip, you think as your wavering arm hovers above, reminding yourself to keep your touch light so as not to wake him. You bite your lip in a poor attempt to hide the giddy smile that appears at the way his ear twitches and twirls on reflex as your finger ghosts the tip of his ear. A quick glance down to the fox hybrid’s face assures that, to your relief, he seems to remain asleep.

Unbeknownst to you, however, tighnari smiles inwardly; he’s much more successful at hiding it than you were. If he could, he’d roll his eyes at the way you take such adorable delight in the mundane. Out of habit, he’s been awake for hours, waiting, thinking you’d appreciate the rare opportunity to wake up together, laze around in bed, and cuddle into the late morning. At least two of those options are still viable.

From your peripherals, you catch the swishing movements of something dark and furry, but before you can even process it all, an arm wraps around your waist, essentially pulling you back down under the sea of pillows and blankets, and right into the confines of your lover’s arms.  Your gaze meets tighnari’s and only then do you realize that those verdant green eyes shine much too brightly, and glint far too playfully, for someone who should’ve supposedly just woken up.

— 𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌

Sumeru’s acting grand sage takes his lunch exactly at noon everyday, never missing a minute, regardless of whatever conversation he must cut short, or of what meetings he must put on hold. The two of you have made it routine to meet for lunch, squeezing in as much time together as possible in spite of the unfortunate new schedule that came with his equally unfortunate new title.

For sumeru, an era change, especially in the case of overthrowing a corrupt administration, is good. For alhaitham, personally, it is a blatant disruption to his peaceful life. At least with you, he can find solace, your presence anchoring him in place while the tumultuous waves of the akademiya post-coupe, shakes through all other aspects of his life.

Amidst all the buzz of the city, your company is a familiar comfort that manifests regardless of whether the two of you exchange words in conversation, or just silently bask in the other’s presence. A heavy weight lands on you as alhaitham rests his head on your shoulder, energy clearly depleted from half a day’s work of dealing with annoying tasks and people.

Anyone who stumbles upon the scene would be struck with disbelief, but with you, alhaitham lets down his guard, trusting you to catch him should he fall; it’s a privilege he keeps reserved for you, and you alone. Alhaitham closes his eyes as he listens to you talk, letting out an occasional hum in response, only lifting his head when you abruptly pause mid-sentence.

Overhead, the sun and shadows shift, indicating the end of your little lunch date. Alhaitham’s current allotted breaks are much shorter than they were compared to when he was the scribe, so you find it odd that, for someone normally so punctual, he hasn’t moved an inch from his position.

“Don’t you have to start heading back now?” Technically, yes. He should. And he should also pick up his pace as well if he wanted to make it back on time.

But… he finds your first hand witness of ex-grand sage azar falling into yazadaha pool much, much more enticing than whatever awaits him at the akademiya, so alhaitham only briefly pretends to contemplate his options before a small smile settles upon his lips.

“Actually, the acting grand sage just approved my request for extended lunch hours, so please,” he gestures, “continue.” Afterall, who’s going to reprimand him? The grand sage?

— 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇

Both of you slink out of your respective bedrooms for a little break from the projects you’ve each been working on. The quest for a caffeine top-up, or a quick midnight snack, turns into impromptu 3am dates with kaveh under the warm light of the kitchen.

He gets to work, quickly whipping up a dish, while you start brewing a fresh pot of coffee. While kaveh may be in no place to reprimand you for working well into the witching hours (it would be glaringly hypocritical of him), he can at least ensure that any midnight meals you might have will be nutritious.

You watch the architect from your seat on the kitchen counter; it’s endearing, the way his brows are furrowed in concentration, stacking biscuit upon biscuit, as if he’s working to make architectural history for the second time in his life, albeit in a delicious fatteh form.

Tonight, however, the little bread building kaveh so painstakingly creates doesn’t quite resemble the famed palace that it so often does. Instead, this structure is less towering, less grand, more intimate.

For a man as burdened as kaveh, the future is but a mere afterthought. Haunted by the ghosts of his past, he already bends under the weight of his unsettled debts and looming deadlines. And armed with only inspiration as fleeting as the fickle whims of his clients… the present is already a path rife with uncertainty. But with you by his side, kaveh allows himself to dream again. Such is this random burst of inspiration that hits him late at night, urging him to construct a physical manifestation of the home he’s found in you.

“… and a padisarah garden where we can drink wine and watch the sun go down,” he mumbles, recalling your exact words while sprinkling on the finishing touches of his latest masterpiece. No need to dig through the depths of his mind for ideas when his new dream home comes as effortlessly as dreaming itself.

Of course you end up sharing the fatteh, though it’s always a shame to break apart such culinary artistry, especially when it's a rough model of a home he’s envisioned for your future together. When he’s with you, the path ahead is clear as day, so it’s alright— he’ll draft up a real blueprint later.

The last hours of the night are spent idly chatting away, and it’s not until you hear the first songs of the early morning dusk birds, that the spell breaks like a veil lifted, and in this moment, you realize the two of you have spent far too long at the dining table together. You scurry back to your room while kaveh prepares to do the same.

As for the dishes, he waves it off, dumping them all in the sink. The two of you have far too much work to catch up on… and it’s alhaitham’s turn to do the dishes anyway.

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: Down bad for this one today. He always kinda skeeved me out when he was a teenager but seeing him all grown up I was like, damn son. Come Netflix and chill with me. This is so much longer than I intended it to be, not sorry? But thank you for reading it! I really appreciate everyone taking the time to read my stuff and reblogging it if you do that, too! It would have been much shorter if I had been able to just sit down and not be called away from it 12.9 times. But it is what it is. Enjoy!!

*also: art by @/iluvluvnutella // permission for use was posted*

*also also: I purposely used a pic of Makoto as an ADULT. Yeah, I'm well aware the pic in the back is when he was a teenager. NONE of these HC's are about him when he was a teenager.

C/W ::: MDNI UNDER THE CUT, PLEASE.

〽️ Is very sweet.

〽️ Takes you out for ice cream (or whatever) once a week on your agreed upon date night.

〽️ Knows your favorite flower and will bring you one whenever he passes by them.

〽️ Likes to be touching you almost all the time when you're walking around town/shopping.

〽️ Isn't possessive or anything like that, but loves you so much that it's become second nature to him at this point to always have some part of him against some part of you.

〽️ Knows your favorite perfume (and your favorite cologne on him - he wears it because he knows how much it drives you crazy).

〽️ Likes the smell of your armpit.

〽️ Known to yank on his dick every opportunity he could.

〽️ Steals your panties (without your permission - but you still know about it and if it were anyone else, it would definitely bother you but it's your bf so whatevs.)

〽️ Has asked to be tied up more than once.

〽️ Suggests wax play quite often (but doesn't know your secret: he's almost convinced you to do it).

〽️ Has no preference whether or not he's on top or you are. Or in front or behind. Just loves to feel good with you.

〽️ Never really thought about anyone in particular while he jerked off (unless you count those women in magazines in itty bitty teeny weeny bikinis) until he met you. And as far as he's concerned, no one before you matters, anyway.

〽️ Likes to kiss you until you're a complete mess.

〽️ Is not above begging for you.

〽️ Wants you to tease him/edge him. (He's so pretty all sweaty and flustered, his skin flushed and bright pink cheeks, heavy, leaky cock.)

〽️ Will run his fingers all over your body and won't stop a second before you're whimpering and whining about how badly you need him to give you more.

〽️ Won't give you more until he's sure you'll cum just as fast as he does.

〽️ Has a pretty cock and knows it. (He's even admired it in all its glory.)

〽️ Is shaven because he likes how it feels and looks.

〽️ L-o-v-e-s sloppy blowjobs. Like, fluids all over the lower half of your face and upper chest.

〽️ Will make out with you after you're done (even if he doesn't cum, he'll still pull you up to kiss you).

〽️ Hopes you'll make out with him after he's done going down on you, too. (Not because he thinks it's "fair", but because he thinks it's hotter than hell.)

〽️ Sleeps nude.

〽️ Wakes up every morning with a raging boner.

〽️ Makes it well worth your while if you stayed over the night before.

〽️ Makes breakfast with organic and free-range animals because it "makes him sad" to think about their last moments on this planet being shitty. (Has been shut up by your counterargument about how they're last moments on this earth are being killed ... for food - how can they possibly NOT be shitty? And then you thank him for a delicious breakfast.)

〽️ Itadakimasu! (But with real food this time!)

@southside-otaku @viburnt @kazutora-kurokawa @katshimizuu @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82

[the-insouciant-scientist]

@fallenlondonficswap @uniquezombiedestiny

For the general swap! Listen both our main characters are amnesiacs I had to do Something with that

Down Here Underneath

Maethyl Fallow & Harper Faraday, General Rating, 909 words.

Maethyl dropped back into her seat with a heavy sigh, a cup of steaming hot coffee warming both hands. It had been a hell of a morning, and she was looking forward to finally allowing herself to just sit and relax. She let her head loll backwards against the chair, tentacles curling gently around its wooden edges, when she heard a small cough across from her.

“Ah, hello?” A voice said. She looked up and half-winced when she realized she had not, in fact, found an empty table. How she had missed the pages upon pages of scribbling and scientific notation was beyond her. She squinted at her unexpected table-mate, who gave her an owlish look of surprise in response. 

“Sorry, I can move if you want me to. It’s been… a day.” Mae said after a moment. She really didn’t want to move, it was a very comfortable chair and she was tired, but it felt rude not to offer.

The stranger shook their head. “Oh, it’s no issue, really. Sorry about the mess.” They said sheepishly. Mae took a good look at them, from their unruly hair to their neathbow splattered labcoat worn unbuttoned, and came to the conclusion that this was probably as neat as they ever were. She shrugged, and they relaxed by a fraction.

After a moment of uneasy peace as they both tried to acclimate to each others’ unexpected presence, the scientist went back to their writing. Maethyl sipped at her coffee and tried not to stare too obviously. 

“So, what is all this?” Mae asked. The stranger looked up near-immediately, alight from the opportunity to talk about their work. 

“A collaborative experiment with my spouse, on mordants and fixatives. Some of their Neath-color dyes don’t stay in fabric well. Like gant, especially. Or irrigo.” they rambled, referencing a faded violet-ish stain along the hem of their coat. Mae’s vision slid across it no matter how hard she tried to focus.

“I see that color when I close my eyes, sometimes.” Mae said. 

The scientist perked up, rolling a fountain pen between their fingers. “Memory loss?” they asked, almost seeming excited at the prospect. Mae frowned. People always made such a fuss about her amnesia, once they found out.

After a moment she nodded, begrudgingly. “Can’t remember anything before waking up in a New Newgate cell a few months ago.” She took a small sip from her drink to break the tension.

They fluttered their right hand by their side, suddenly, surprise and delight twining in their expression. “It was a few years ago for me, but… I’m the same.” they said, softly. Mae choked on her coffee in surprise for a second, coughing. “Do you remember anything from before? Or just total amnesia.”

“Dunno. If I did remember any details I’d just forget that I did, so how would I know?” She replied. “Do you?”

“Understandable, given the nature of irrigo. Ah, I… Some? But not really. Mostly just snippets, stuff tied to senses. Sometimes I remember the scent of surface flowers, or the texture of a specific lace, or the feeling of sunlight, but… I completely lack context, or any specific details.”

Maethyl hummed in sympathy. “Sounds nice, at least.” 

Her conversational partner nodded after a moment, as if lost in thought, before speaking once more. “So, you’re still pretty new to the Neath then, if you only woke up in New Newgate a few months back. How has it been for you so far?”

Mae groaned, setting her coffee cup down and burying her face in her hands. A stray tentacle clung to one of her fingers. “Tried my hand at growing mushrooms and ended up in the middle of a warzone.”

The scientist winced. “That was a doozy. I’d like to say that was an outlier, as summers go, but from my observations it’s more pattern than coincidence. Augusts seem to just have a particular kind of trouble to them. And Thursdays, for that matter, especially at the end of any given month.”

“Eugh. Noted.” She replied, pinching the bridge of her nose. The scientist offered a wry smile, before it abruptly shifted into dawning realization. 

“Oh.” They breathed. “That was your first time ever seeing the sun, then.”

Mae instinctively hunched up her shoulders. “Yeah. Yours too. What did you think? I thought it was a bit shit. Bloody hurt, too. I’ll be ecstatic if I never have to feel that again.”

“Bright. Warm. Absolutely painful, yes. But… I don’t know. As I crashed up there, burning in sunlight, all I could think of was that it was breathtakingly beautiful. But that very well could have been the adrenaline talking.” The scientist said, fidgeting with their cosmogone-lensed spectacles.

“Can’t say I agree, but to each their own.” She said with a half-smile. They both let their gazes wander over the rest of the coffeeshop, deep in thought.

“I wonder, though, how many others there are out there like us. Whose lives basically began in prison, not even remembering what they did or didn’t do. Maybe we should start a club.” They said with a dry laugh.

“Neathy amnesiacs anonymous. Anonymous because all of us have a shitty memory, that is.” Mae joked. The scientist paused for a second, seemingly having trouble parsing the humor, before they smiled too.

“Neathy amnesiacs anonymous.” They echoed. Mae picked up her coffee cup in a mock-toast and drained the last of it.

[minsyal]

The Great Stone Knight, Pt. XII

Sandor Clegane x Reader

Warnings will remain vague and be for the work as a whole as opposed to each part individually: violence, death, assault, my shitty characterizations, explicit language, sexual content (will be noted), and having too good of a time reading this.

Masterlist

“She follows me around all day.” Arya angrily threw her arms into the air, then regained her footing and threateningly stared down the blade of her sword. “Lunge. Lower right.” She called out, lunging forward as you blocked her with your acquired weaponry.

Her castle-forged sword was masterfully crafted compared to the shortsword you had stolen on the last leg of your journey. Clanging against one another, the sweet sound of slick steel hung in the air. “Upper left.” You announced, swinging your sword high in the air as Arya blocked it with an easy movement. It was a fairly equal match but considering she was years younger, she would likely far surpass you in skill by the time she was your current age. “Do you have no common interests?” You asked, stalling as she prepared to lunge forward.

“Common interests?” Arya repeated, taking the opportunity to swing her sword downward to rest gently against your calf. “Dead.” The declaration was followed by a beaming smile and a skip in her step. “Not at all.” She carefully sheathed Needle in her belt. “She likes dolls and silly stories.”

Leaning your sword against a nearby tree trunk, you wiped your hands down the front of your shirt. “You like stories.”

It was less about defending Sally and more about appeasing Arya. As the days passed, she grew more and more agitated that the three of you had not continued on with your journey. She did not want to go to her aunt, but she insisted that she was miserable with you and Sandor despite everything you tried to do to get her to settle.

“Yeah.” Arya childishly mocked you and rolled her eyes. “She wants to hear about princes and love like Sansa always did.” Throwing her hands up, they landed on her hips. “I don’t care about that.” The disgust that laced into her voice was accompanied by the crossing of her arms dramatically over her chest in a guarded motion. “Knights should be fighting… not picking roses for ladies. Don’t you have any more stories like that one you told me?” She tapped her finger against her arm. “That Antonian knight, the woman…” Her eyes lit up as she recalled the name, “The Great Stone Knight.”

Laughing it off, you swept your hair back from your flushed face. “There are many tales from my home, but we can save them for when we’re traveling again.” She huffed upon hearing your dismissal. “There has to be some common ground. Sally was raised without friends, she is just excited to have someone.”

“I don’t want to be that someone.” The beginning of a wicked blaze was erupting in her ears. “I could work in the field with you and Sandor.” Arya turned her head to Sandor who sat atop a cobblestone wall, resting from a long morning. “We could get the work done faster and leave.”

“It’s hard work.” Sandor commented.

As Arya’s disquiet sprouted leaves and extended high above the clouds, Sandor had mellowed. While always still on guard, he had found himself casting glances over his shoulder less. The farm had seen no visitors since your arrival days ago. Sally and her father had left for the town once, and returned the same day after selling their goods.

Waking the first morning after your moment in the rain, it had been incredibly difficult to get him to shed his armor and work in just his cottons. Reluctancy poured from his increasing attitude as the sweat from the beating sun shone down harshly against the warming leather. It was not until the second evening that he finally relented. Leaving his armor in the barn gave you the opportunity to finally wash the dried blood from its grates. He had absentmindedly wiped it off after each battle, but the scent still lingered with the spirits of those that had fallen to his sword.

Living within the barn was far different from the spaces you occupied in your youth. From ship cabins with feather beds to plush and lavish beds in castles, you were used to having the best and most comfortable sleeping quarters. On occasion you had slept on the ground, but not to the point that you were used to it. Inns were few and far between on the road and more often than not you slept on the cold ground each night. Stringy and scratchy straw plunged themselves into the soft flesh of your arms, leaving you to wake each day with blotches of red disturbed skin. But it was better than nothing, and with Sandor at your side now he acted as a cushion between the earth and your body.

All things considered, life was good.

Sally and her father had been immensely welcoming to the three of you. Always referring to you by your fake names, they quickly took to the added security and helping hands on the farm.

“I can work hard.” Arya argued, stomping to the plow that dug its way into the sown dirt. Fumbling with the heavy equipment, Arya turned from side to side. Her feet planted themselves into the ground as she caked mud against her shoes. Leaning forward comically, she urged it to move but could not get the wood to move an inch. Exasperated and full of defeat, she slumped forward propped only by her arms and let out a flummoxed sigh as she stared angrily at the tool. “I’ll be in the barn.”

The storm that raged over Arya followed her to the barn and thundered as she opened and slammed the door in a theatrical display of her dismay. Retreating from the world of the living, she would stay there for hours and only emerge once prompted by the growl of her stomach.

“Why didn’t you tell her that it hooks to the cattle?”

Crossing the remaining space between you and the wall, you leaned against its side. The exhale of amusement that pressed past his lips was short. “Why didn’t you?” Leaning forward slightly, Sandor slipped his arms under yours and swiftly hoisted you onto the wall by his side. A surprised squeal jumped from your mouth. As many times as he had unexpectedly picked you up, you never got used to it.

“I yield.” You replied.

Each day of work would usually conclude this way. Arya had an impeccable ability to find something to distract her for half the day. Once she grew bored with whatever she was doing she would find you with swords in hands putting a stop to your work. Afterward, she retired to the barn until Sally and her father either brought dinner or informed you that it was ready.

“Meya?” Sally came meekly from the cottage with a woven basket bearing fresh fruit and a hollowed gourd filled with water and capped with a cork. The first day she had told you all about how it came from the previous year’s harvest and her entire process in cleaning it for use. “Father sent me with this.”

Raising the basket over her head, she tried to balance it on the wall’s side for you to take. Relieving her of her plight, you grasped it by the handle and sat it on Sandor’s lap. “This is lovely, thank you Sally.”

Sandor had begun sifting through its contents, quickly finding an apple that he bit into. Distracted, he didn’t catch the look cast in his direction as you beckoned him to thank the girl. Finally you elbowed him, earning a miffed grunt and a grumbled “thanks.”

“Do you know where Arlenna is?”

Raising your brows, you faked ignorance as you turned your head from side to side, searching for Arya in spite of you knowing her location. “She’s around here somewhere.”

Returning back down the worn path leading to the cottage, she had the slightest skip in her step with the new quest of finding Arya on her mind.

Sally’s interest in Arya was amusing. She was roughly the same age, maybe slightly younger, but the two were so vastly different. It was almost how you imagined her and Sansa to be - night and day, an odd couple, two sides of a coin. Except there was an intense innocence that Sally oozed that had been lost to both of the Stark sisters. Whisked away in the night, never to return.

“I’m finding myself enjoying farm work much more than I expected.” You commented, nudging your shoulder against Sandor’s. “I could see us having something like this.”

Handing the apple off to you, you cradled it in your palms, looking down at the way his single bite nearly took a fourth of the fruit. The apples in Westeros tasted better than the ones in Antonia, you thought. It was possible that was true, but it was more likely that it was so intensely refreshing from your poorly diet. The smooth skin punctured easily with the points of your teeth, instantly filling your mouth with a perfect bite of the juicy flesh. Chewing happily, you handed it back to Sandor.

“We could.” A crisp crunch signaled Sandor’s second bite. “Only fun because you haven’t lived like this forever.” He glanced toward the house where the farmer stood on a short ladder repairing a door with Sally near his feet. “For them it’s survival, princess.”

Sally stood on her toes as she handed her father a mallet. Taking it from her hand, he ruffled the top of her head earning a lighthearted giggle that carried on the air. “I suppose you’re right.” Looking over the field the two of you had been working in all morning, you could still visualize building a life in a setting like this. A small cottage, a farm, and a few horses would make for a peaceful existence. “What will our survival be, then? Shall we traverse the seas to live up to my title? Or perhaps pay a visit to those Braavosi sellswords you mentioned?”

Tossing the core of the apple into a tuft of browning grass, he craned his neck from side to side and shrugged his shoulders. “Second Sons like to share their belongings. I don’t.”

A breeze snuck in from the distance mountaintops, bringing a cover of gorgeous puffy clouds that provided a never ending shade to quell the burning heat of the sun. Peering downward to his hand that now rested lazily against the wall’s edge, you slowly lowered yours next to his. Noticing the movement, he stilled and waited for you to take the lead. When you stalled, he realized you were waiting for his approval.

“You want this?” He jerked his chin outward to the farmer’s fields and took your hand in his. “We can have this.”

“Would you get bored?”

Squeezing softly, he placed your hand in his lap eclipsed by his. “Could manage.”

“Managing isn’t living.” You leaned your shoulder against his and rested your head against his arm. “What about where you’re from?”

The gentle flow of air tried to part the two of you, prying its way through the thin cloth of your shirt but finding no reprieve. You had never felt closer to the giant guarded man seated at your side. Each passing day since your admissions, his features seemed to soften ever so slightly. The harshness that he concealed within his irises was not as pointed, dulling marginally. Despite his change, there were moments. The mystery that was his mind remained clouded as he was unwilling to let you fully in. His feelings were not spoken as freely as yours, but were instead sung through the electricity of his fingertips, the playful tug at his lips, and the bouldering position of his chest that always stayed protectively guarding you.

You knew little about his past. Sansa had warned of him while in the Red Keep, Petyr Baelish had tried to scare you with stories, and Ser Lorric had prohibited you from speaking to him, but nobody explicitly stated anything that made you stray from his touch. Only Arya had presented a good argument to his misdeeds, but even she stayed in his company.

“It can burn.”

He held an abundance of hatred for his family, that much was clear. Whenever he spoke of his brother in a serious stance, his eyes would darken and the muscles in his face would tense.

Guiding his gaze to meet yours, you rubbed your thumb gingerly against the faint scarring of his cheek. The softness of your smile shrouded in the twinkling rays of golden sunlight peeking through the clouds relaxed his shoulders. “Then we will go elsewhere.”

~~~*~~~

“High left, low right.” Arya had pulled you from your work after another morning in the field. Demanding you train with her as she exclaimed she was about to kill Sally, you decided that her hitting you was better than a child. Swinging roughly toward you, she began her onslaught of fast cuts through the air. Tilting her blade, she redirected her focus from your upper left to the lower. Inches from striking your calf, she froze and repositioned her stance with the end of her sword at your left leg. “Dead.”

Dropping your guard, you tilted your head and watched as a genuine and elated smile formed on her lips. “You said low right, not left.”

Regaining her focus and returning to the offense, Arya moved her hands in a sweeping motion to hurry you back into position. She waited until you were ready to spar again before she finally said, “my tongue lied, my eyes shouted the truth.” Bouncing her weight from one foot to the other, she kept you on your toes as you waited for her call.

“Low left, high left, lunge.”

Swinging Needle low, you blocked her first assault with the dull clack of a sword against the stick she had given you. One inch forward brought with it her blade as she raised it high. You blocked her again, catching the steel between grooves in the wood. Her lunge signaled your step backward as the two of you rounded one another in her coordinated dance. Never once did her stiff hand leave the small of her back. The call of your planned movements never came to fruition as she spun on her heel. The action caught you off guard, giving her the perfect opportunity to hold Needle to your chest. “Dead.”

“You’re not playing very fair today.” You dropped your arm and let the stick fall to the ground with a thud.

“I’m fair.” She defended. “I could have done this.”

Before you could protest her statement she swept your legs out from beneath you, with the hook of her ankle. Then, as if she had not dealt enough damage to your pride, she lightly poked the end of her sword against your chest. “Dead.”

You wanted so badly to be mad at her when she stepped backward to allow you to rise to your feet, but you could not find it in you. This is how parents must feel, you thought. An exceptional sense of pride thundered through your chest. Despite you not having anything to do with her childhood growth, it filled you with confidence in her survival instinct. She was a truly remarkable young lady.

“Tell me, did you do this to your brothers?”

“Yes.” She sneered. “Not Robb… or Jon. But I could beat Bran and Rickon.”

“... and how much younger were Bran and Rickon?”

“Bran is one year younger than me.” She retorted. “... Rickon is five years younger. But at least they put up a fight.”

“Not all of us were afforded a swordsman to train us.” You quipped, stretching your arms from side to side and ignoring the throb of pain that bleated in your thigh.

“I beat them on my own.” Arya insisted, gathering her wits about her again as she prepared for your call. “I’m a good shooter - Bran couldn’t line a shot up, and Rickon couldn’t lift a bow.”

You planted your feet on the ground and sighed, growing tired from her continued beating. “High right, low left, lunge.”

Parrying the swing of your sword, Arya hit every mark as she successfully evaded your blade. “Are you a good shooter?” She wondered loudly before calling out her next attacks and going on the offense. “Low right, low left.”

“Well, I-” You replied as she took advantage of your distracted state and knocked you from your stance.

Triumphantly, she announced. “Dead.”

~~~*~~~

“When are we leaving?” Arya paced back and forth across the barn floor. Her feet wore into the dirt, leaving a track of flattened ground. “We’ve been here for two weeks. I thought we were heading to the Eyrie.”

“Traveling isn’t cheap.” Sandor commented, not particularly paying attention to anything she was specifically saying.

The night had set in bringing with it the frigid air of a nearing autumn. Sandor had been given a couple of silver stags for the two weeks of work which he pocketed with the rest. Over dinner, the two men discussed their plans moving forward as Arya simmered in her seat. Sally had taken to following Arya less and following you more, which came with no complaints. Almost daily she would ask for stories, most of which were heavily falsified and tailored to her as you did for Arya and Sansa. Her mother used to tell her stories like that, her father would say as you hushed the young girl to sleep.

“Got traveling gold?”

She huffed. “You do.”

“This is silver.” Sandor jingled the pouch. “In a hurry to get to your loving aunt, that it?”

“You said she’ll pay you heavily in gold. Is that not what you want?” Practically steaming, she cringed as she plopped down on her spot. “You’re so busy playing house that you can’t even think logically.”

“You want to leave that badly? Get back out on the road so you can watch another family member get their fucking head cut off?”

“Sandor.” You scolded from your position near the door. Gliding from the entrance of the barn to the middle where Arya sat, you dropped to your knees and held a covered basket out to her. “With all our work they bought some honey from the market.” Uncovering the warm breads sent the aromas of sugar and floral honey wafting into the air. “Eat.”

“Thanks.” Her gratitude was not readily apparent to anyone who had not been in her presence for an extended period of time. But to you, it was visible in the way her shoulders relaxed as she savored the fresh fragrant bread. All her irritation with the young girl dissipated at the sweet sugar connected with her dormant taste buds.

Moving to Sandor’s side, you pulled another out for him and held it out.

Arya began her retort with a full mouth. “Why can’t you take me to my brother Jon? I don’t even know my aunt, never met her.”

“You think Jon has gold at Castle Black? Bunch of rapists and murderers. It’s no place for you.” He stretched out, extending his arms above his head as the hem of his shirt bunched at his midsection. Like most foods, it didn’t take him long to consume his fill.

“She just wants to be with family.” You defended, dropping to his side.

“Only one here who does.” He grumbled, closing his eyes. “We’ll leave tomorrow at first light.”

Arya perked at his announced plan, sitting straighter as she swallowed hard and took in a deep breath. “Really?”

“Not much of a liar.” He responded, turning on his side to face you. You set the basket aside and adjusted the blanket that cushioned your bodies from the hay. “Collect the silver, then leave.”

“Really?” She repeated, earning an annoyed huff from Sandor.

“Yes really. The sooner you’re out of my hair, the better.”

The slats in the roof looked out to the shimmering stars that were suspended in the cold night’s air. Steady and even breaths filled the barn along with puffs of smoke from Arya and Sandor’s warm breath challenging the blue creature that froze the landscape. While they slept soundly, you laid awake.

Crystals of ice formed on the surfaces of your eyes, prompting them to remain wide as your mind traveled a thousand leagues a minute. Each star that kept you company disappeared as the night grew deeper and turned to an early morning. Your travels had sent you on a journey into the unknown. Each time you found yourself lost, Ser Lorric would be there as the guiding light to reposition you back on track. It had been nearly two years since his death and still your mind wandered to the many things he would say that seemed like nonsense at the time.

But things had changed, and he was gone. Lost to the winds of Westeros. His final place of rest was disturbed, likely thrown into the Blackwater to swim amongst the bodies of those who perished in the battle. He was nothing but a memory at this point, one that you held dearly to your chest whenever you inevitably thought of home.

Sandor was much different than those you had found interest in before. He was as large as the mountains protecting The Hill and just as sturdy. Gruff and frayed at the edges, he had managed to wriggle his way into your heart. Your father would be perplexed. You could imagine the look on his face if he were to ever meet Sandor. His bushy brows would raise into his forehead, he would grab at his belt buckle and belly laugh as he would make a comment about how well he would fit into the family lineage. “Your children will be giants!” He would exclaim whilst grasping at Sandor’s arms. “She is so reluctant to marry. What did you promise her to win her heart?” Yes, he would like Sandor. You were sure of it.

Although, his approval mattered not any longer. As the sun and moon danced around the sky, the chances of seeing him lessened with each passing day. Each hour was another away from home, away from the comfort of your family and people.

While wandering through the memories of easier times, the brush became too thick. Vines and leaves tangled, engulfing your form entirely as your mind slipped into a calm darkness. The dreamless sleep was shielded by the man at your side. Memories of Antonia melted into new ones of your adventures and future in Westeros.

~~~*~~~

Sandor’s voice roused you from your sleep. The softness in his tone permeated every waking space of your mind, encouraging the morning’s hold to begin. It was a sunny day, the golden rays crept through the few cracks that remained in the barn. Light breaths echoed from where Arya lay still sleeping soundly.

A garbled groan left your lips, pushing hot breath against Sandor’s chest where your head had landed somewhere through the night. One arm stretched lazily over his stomach to attach to his side, the other hooked around the arm where the majority of your body rested. Though it buzzed and filled with an uncomfortable static, he had left you to rest awhile longer after he initially woke. His fingers gripped at yours, prying you from his touch much to your annoyance.

“It’s time to go.”

Your grumble was taken lightheartedly as you rubbed your cheek into his shirt, ignoring the faint scent of a hard day of work. “Our last day to rest and you wake me early?”

“Only so many hours of sunlight.” He defended, nudging you off his chest to land on your back at his side. “We can rest once we get rid of her.”

Unsteadily sitting up, your arms stretched high above your head as your body shook with a euphoric pop as your muscles woke. Left and right, you cracked your neck, releasing the tension that built from another night without the comfort of a mattress. The white rays of light that swept through the cracks in the roof highlighted the clouds of dust that floated through the stagnant air. Sandor had risen to a sitting position following suit as he more harshly got his limbs moving.

“I’ll wake Arya.”

On the other side of the room, Arya had begun to stir. She kicked her legs out from their fetal position as you approached. Placing a warm hand against her clothed shoulder, you were surprised to find her already awake. The contact had her eyes opening immediately and her body thrusting upward to take in her surroundings. Your fingers laced through her hair, pushing the stray hairs from her vision. “Our journey continues.”

Without answering, she nodded and rose to her feet. A lion’s yawn forced her mouth wide as she went through the motions of jostling herself to activity. All the while, her focus remained entirely on Sandor as he worked at the clasps of his armor. The sense of apprehension and annoyance she held for him compared to the more friendly relationship she had formed with you was amazing. Any onlooker could tell from her surface that something was brewing beneath. Maybe it was the way she peered at people from a lowered chin or her closed shoulders and guarded stance. Maybe it was her calculated choice of wordage and the way she always looked like a wolf hunting its prey. Either way, she was different from most children. In her short time, many things had been stolen from her. Aging came naturally to most, but she was forced to grow up ten paces ahead.

You couldn’t blame her for having a potent anger with the world.

“I'm going to see Sally before we go.”

Sandor waved his hand as you left the barn, calling after you to saddle the horses afterward and that he was going to collect the silver owed for the last few days of work.

Great plumes of fresh white smoke rose from the crackling chimney. Sally could be heard within, her voice growing stronger and louder as each day passed. You hoped that she would continue on that road, but feared your departure would be a hindrance. She bounded from the door carrying a make-shift cloth bag that jostled from its heavy contents as she skipped in your direction. Upon setting her sights on your nearing figure she walked a little faster to meet you on the dirt path.

“Here!” She thrust her arm out in front of her body, offering the bag. “Barley and apples for today.”

“Thank you,” you stopped her from handing it off, “but you should keep this. I was coming to say goodbye.”

Her brow furrowed. “Goodbye?”

“We have to go.”

“Why?”

“We’re heading north. Lorric will be by to see your father shortly.”

“Do you have to go?” Sally pleaded with sad eyes that reflected her downturned lips. “I want you to stay.”

Cupping the puffiness of her reddening cheek, you gave her a soft smile. “Sometimes the beginning of a new journey starts with a goodbye.” The clasp of your hair clip popped as your hair flowed freely from its hold, brushing against your shoulders as the wind carried south. While on the farm, you had pried out the gemstones, pocketing them along with the few pieces of copper that you had scavenged off of the deceased. “Perhaps our paths will meet again.” Tucking her thin hair behind her ear, you secured it with the pop of the clip. “Take care of your father, okay?”

Her fingers grazed the metal in her hair, bringing a smile to the curve of her lips. Nodding, she tugged at your waist, squeezing you in a crushing hold.

“Here.” She pushed the bag against your stomach. “You should still take it.”

“You and your father need it.”

“Please? I want you to have it.” The cloth clashed against your leg as she moved out and back toward you to emphasize herself. “Please come back some time.”

“I will.” You said, though you knew it unlikely.

With the morning sun came a glistening layer of twinkling dew drops that flashed in a spiraling show of the earth’s beauty from each viewpoint. Temperate and calm, the day was perfect for riding. Stranger and Arya’s steed were grazing in the pasture, enjoying their time of leisure after weeks of nonstop travel. It was a good break from their fast galloping that tired the animals at a quick rate. Both the riders and horses all looked healthier than any of them had in their months of travel.

Your fingers brushed through the coarse hair of Stranger’s mane, detangling a knot that had formed from the blowing breeze. Gathering a handful of barley in your palm, you held it out to him and offered the rest to the other steed.

Taking one last look around the farm you had called home for an uneventful and relaxing fortnight, the vision was disturbed by a flaming girl stomping toward you. Fumes rose off the top of her head, steaming the air above her head in a cloud of sauna smoke. Her eyes burnt brighter than they had when she had first seen you caring for Sandor.

“He’s a monster!” Arya approached with her fists balled at her sides, driving her uncut nails into the skin of her palms. “How can you love him?” An accusatory finger was pointed in your face as you tried to focus on Sandor who was trailing behind with a coin bag in his opened palm.

Their usual argumentative demeanours were back. Returning in full, they were at one another's throats again. “What happened?” You tried to calm her with the easy touch of your hands, but she jerked away and roughly took her horse’s reins.

“He’s a thief. Stole all their silver and is leaving them for dead.” She kicked her foot into the stirrup and hoisted her leg over the top of the seat, steading herself with the horn. “If you can love him you’re no better.”

Seizing that moment as her final words on the matter, she tugged her horse to turn it in another direction and started on her way. Quizzically, you looked back to Sandor who had tucked a pouch into his side. He wordlessly hoisted you onto Stranger’s back and sat behind you. Your legs hung off one side and your arm braced against his chest and another round his back.

“Go on, scold me.” His statement wasn’t exactly what you had expected out of his mouth. In fact, it wasn’t at all what you expected.

“You stole from them?” You asked, trying to make full sense of what happened.

“It’s the way of life. Told her that, I’ll tell you the same. Be mad all you like, doesn’t change a damn thing.”

He was so fast to jump to conclusions. That was one trait he retained astutely assuming himself to be the villain. “I’m not mad at you.” You resigned. Truthfully, your chest clenched at the idea that he had left Sally and her father to fend for themselves like that. For any family it would be difficult, but for them especially so. “It’s how things are. You’ve told me that many times.” A placating hand palmed his cheek as you stretched to lay a kiss to his tense skin. “It has taken me time, but I understand. We do what we have to for our survival… did you leave them unharmed?”

They had plenty of harvested goods in storage that they could sell to replenish the silver that now jingled in Sandor’s pocket. Wounds, though, were less likely to mend.

Sandor set his jaw in place as he gathered the reins in his hands, staring forward intensely at the sprawling landscape. He would tell you the truth, but not in entirety, for some things were best left unsaid.

“I don’t hurt little girls.”

Stranger began moving, following after Arya who had a lead on the two of you. The plumes of white puffy smoke from their chimney faded behind you. Slowly, but surely, they would become a memory. A memory that you would revisit often with fondness of the connection their humble cottage built. If things were different, if you had your kingdom behind you, maybe you could give them a better alternative. But that was not an option and they, as kind as they were, were not your priority.

Writers note: apologies for the long wait, I was all up in my feelings

Tag list:

@madameasbjorn @yaskna @xakilicious @waifu4lifeu @peaked-in-third-grade @underatreedrinkingtea @bra1nr0t-for-lasquadra @dreamgirljere @fortunatelyfadingkingdom @bennysimps @supervalcsi @darylssluttt @grcnseer @strawberryoverkill @nothing2113 @art-flirt @broadsdrinkwhisky @usernameosv @vi-nd-ex @goodcathloicgirl @fillechatoyante @bushtail

[miz-chase]

the partner-ly thing to do

soft consensual sleepy sex and tooth-rotting fluff featuring service top booth and stimming brennan, the good shit

There were so many Job Partners Things Seeley Booth could make excuses for. Right now, he was trying to figure out a good one why they needed to be naked, sprawled out on his bed, his fingers walking along her sleeping back.

If you had asked him, Seeley Booth would say he got his partner Temperance Brennan coffee every morning because it’s the partnery thing to do. He was already there, everyone needs caffeine, it made the trip to work with her faster, and it made her less grumpy at the afforementioned work.

He wouldn’t have said it was because of the way her fingertips brushed his when he handed her the drink, nor the way she smiled when he remembered her order, nor the serene look on her face when she inhaled the fresh scent. She looked so pretty smiling when she didn’t know anyone was looking.

It would be the same if anyone asked why, at the slightest opportunity, he would come straight to the Jeffersonian and insist Dr. Brennan drop everything and get to the car. It was for work, that was the job. Every second mattered upon the discovery of evidence, and if the first 48 hours were most vital, that must go double for the first 48 minutes.

He for sure didn’t do it for that scrunched-up face of annoyance that looked so damn cute, nor the way she’d shout his name across the lab as if they were the only people there. It was also definitely not the fact that any moment, he could disrupt that work that made her so smart and special, and almost every time, she’s drop everything to join him, to choose him.

Walking hip-to-hip with her was very practical too. After all, in the early days he would just lead, and realize too late she has disappeared, distracted by something more interesting than him. Following behind wouldn’t do, he was the one with clearance and, again, the lady was easily distracted. Side-by-side kept her safe, in his eyeline, on track, but ready to alert him to sometimes-relevant details that were worth the detour.

The fact that it meant he got to steer her on track with a hand on the small of her back wasn’t relevant. Neither was the way she always seemed to lean into his space, poking at him, carrying on side conversations inches from his lips, her breath warm and close.

There were so many Job Partners Things he could make excuses for.

Now, he was trying to figure out a good one why they needed to be naked, sprawled out on his bed, his fingers walking along her sleeping back. Old scars, scars that reminded him too much of his own, formed a crooked ladder up her back for his hand to wander. The belt lines were occasionally punctuated by round cigarette burns. He mapped each and every one with his fingers, wishing his love could soothe away the dots and lines of past pain. Still, she was beautiful exactly as she was.

As far as excuses went, he could say it was case research. He had started a file on the hateful fucks who’d done this and more to a lost, practically non-verbal orphan girl. But he made a promise to himself he’d not do anything until she asked for it. He’d considered just giving Max the files and looking the other way, but Bones wouldn’t thank Booth for sending her father back to jail.

Call it a physical fitness checkup then. He was certainly checking her out. Dozing after lazy predawn lovemaking left her gorgeous, only half-covered by sheets. He was carefully tugging the sheets aside as he admired, but stopped as goosebumps rose in his wake.

Slowly, so as not to wake her, he hugged her against his chest. Safe in his arms, she sighed in her sleep and snuggled closer to his warmth. The sun was just peeking through the blinds, casting slanted lines across the bed. One line just brushed over her knuckles, lighting her bare left ring finger. He chided himself for the thought. Rings were hardly professional partner exchange things, right? That was one thing they wouldn’t be able to explain away. 

They’d been explaining a lot of professional things lately. Late to work, same clothes as yesterday, ‘car trouble’, complaining long lines at coffee shops despite them not actually carrying said coffee. Max had picked up on something and so had Cam, but they both knew better than to tell anyone. Of course Ange had known practically as soon as it happened, which meant Hodgins did too. 

The real test would be how long they could keep it from Aristoo and Wendell, respectively. Once it reached the squinterns, all bets were off. Once they knew, Daisy would know, then Sweets would know, then Cam would Officially Know and yadda yadda. Headache.

So their partner… professional activities stayed on the down-low and he made his excuses. Frequently. With each and every hard-earned skill in lying from the job, the cards, his father. Watching the sun gild her hair as she slept made it all worth it, something truly beautiful that was worth lying for.

There was always the classic ‘team building’ excuse. Communication, camaraderie, commitment, confidence and coachability: that’d been the meat of the last office team building workshop. It was all bullshit, but he and his partner for sure spent a lot of time ticking all those boxes. Wasn’t sex the biggest trust fall of all? Throw you over the edge and be right there to catch you as ya’ crash back down.

Lazy in bed, her back resting against his front, that sorta trust-fall sounded real good right now. Not just the orgasm for him, nah. He could do that whenever. What he loved was showing her over and over again was he’d always be there to catch her, always. He wasn’t going anywhere, she could count on him to be right there. She wasn’t alone anymore.

Mostly asleep, she stirred, lazily stimming with her leg rubbing back and forth in tiny motions against the mattress. He used the motion, moving with her to slide a leg between hers. In the space between waking and sleeping, she sighed, rocking more purposefully against the firm muscle of his leg. Her breath hitched as he gave her more, firmer pressure, adding the gentle stroke of his hand through the thick hair between her legs. He let her guide him, though nstead of a hand on her lower back, it was his growing erection.

She was so wet, it was killing him not to do something about it, but he let her chase her own orgasm at her own pace, slow and lazy-sweet. She glided against his leg with ease now, her arousal slick on bare skin. Gentle noises escaped her, whimpers and sighs, the softest gasp when he swept the pads of his fingers over her clit then eased off. He loved just loosely cupping her mound, a little possessive, a lot loving, edging her along to bring her higher. 

She exhaled a whine as he brushed her clit directly again. Her back arched, pressing back against his hips, his cock. Her wetness was unmistakable as she rubbed herself against him, his belly, his cock, slicking him up to take her. She didn’t need to be fully awake to be his singleminded Bones.

“‘Oo-ooth,” the whine was barely a word and he hushed her gently.

“Ssshhhhh baby, I got ya.” His words were more breath than sound.

He gave her clit one more stroke before easing his hand free. He traced her mouth, her pouting lower lip with those fingers, just brushing her tongue so she could taste her own arousal. Tongue cupped around fingers, cleaning him obediently as he wiped himself across her tongue. He used her combined wetness to slide his hand from mouth to chest to breast to hip, leaving a cool trail on exposed skin before palming his cock behind her. 

It took no prep, she was already sopping wet. All he had to do was guide himself home and he was bottoming out inside her. She made a choked little noise and pressed back to take him fully.

“Gooood girl, yes, that’s it.” He cooed over her, his words an exhale into her hair as he rocked them together. His face was hot, his breath short, each little word of praise a little rougher than the last. He was too close already, the slow rock in and out of her was dangerously good. But he wanted this to last, this perfect suspended moment of just them.

“Buh—“ a whimpered whine as his hand carded through her slicked pubic hair again, not touching her where she wanted. “‘Ooth, buh-ooth please,” she keened, thrusting forward into his hand and nearly freeing his cock from her heat. She did it on purpose, the damn perfect woman, and he retaliated by gripping her rougher than she really wanted. He gripped her hips, blunt nails digging into soft skin, physically pushing her back on.

Inevitably, their fucking turned to this, wrestling and grunting and rolling around the bed. When she couldn’t dislodge his hands from her hips, she shoved him aside and touched her own damn clit. He rolled them both, pinning her beneath him, grabbing her wrists so that he would be the one to make her come, not her, dammit. She threw an elbow, knocking him onto his back so she could disentangle herself. She was on top of him before he knew it was happening, sliding him home inside her and riding him rough.

“G’mornin’—“ huff “— Bones” he managed between pants. He was this close to seeing stars but oh, he was trying to keep it together for her.

“Fuck— you-ah!“ a gasp as he laid into her clit with busy fingers, giving her everything she wanted as she rode him. 

“You already— fuck— y’already are.” His face was red, his breathing desperate, but he still managed a cheeky grin.

In retaliation, she dug nails into his shoulders and clenched tight around his cock. The whine that came out of him was far from dignified but that didn’t stop him from thrusting wildly up into her, giving her everything he had.

He was pleased to say she went over first. She was riding him hard enough to make the bed creak, bouncing and rocking so it skidded on the old hardwood. When her orgasm hit her, all the motion halted and she fell flat against his chest, chanting his name between heavy panting. If the spasming around his cock wasn’t enough, the sweet way she stretched his name into multiple syllables did it. She could put so much meaning, so many different emotions into just that word, it was enough to erase every bad thing it had ever carried. He was just Booth, her Booth.

And then they were dizzy and lazy again, sprawled out as morning found them properly. She was still face-down on top of him, nose tucked into his neck and their legs a tangled mess. He blew out a breath, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. Bright blue eyes were watching him, dancing with humor.

“Good morning, Agent Booth. You’re here rather early.”

“I could say the same for you, Doctor Brennan. This is my bed after all.”

“Oh is it?” She feigned looking around and dryly observed, “It’s my clothing that appears to be draped everywhere.”

“You’re quite the messy houseguest, it’s true.”

“I’m not the one who threw them all over the place,” her huff had more annoyance than teasing, indignant at the very suggestion. She made to climb off him and start cleaning, so he rolled on top of her to keep her in bed. 

“Booth.” He hummed a non-answer, making himself as limp and heavy as possible on top of her. After some unsuccessful struggling, she growled “You are a ridiculous, childish man.”

“Mhmmmm…” His mouth was working along the skin between shoulder and neck, leaving little love bites along her collarbone. She gave an exasperated sigh.

“You know, if you insist on being so… difficult, there are ways to teach you to be better behaved.” She knew exactly the tone of voice and kind of threat that would have his engine revving in no time. He was a damned lucky man.

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yes.”

“You had better not be makin’ promises you can’t keep, Doctor Brennan.”

“Oh I’ll show you the sort of resolve I—“

His damn phone rang. It was absolutely work and as soon as Bones heard it was work they wouldn’t get to play anymore and then he wouldn’t get to see what was in that box she brought home and then they wouldn’t get to— 

The loud, hateful ringer sounded again.

Christ.

He answered, despite every bone and organ in his body protesting otherwise.

“Booth.” … “Yup.” … “Where?” … “Yeah.” … “Fine.” … “She’ll be there.”

By the end of the call, the spell had broken, a truck laid hard on the horn outside, the neighbors upstairs were arguing, and his partner was smiling beatifically at him, gaining a crooked edge when he met her eyes.

“Body?”

“Body.”

They sighed in unison, and he obediently climbed off her.

“Still time for a shower, hmm?” Her grin was all hunger, climbing out of bed and striding naked to the bathroom. She paused in the doorway, looking back at him. “Shall we?”

Seeley Booth was a good partner. He’d never let his partner go it alone. 

So what if it meant coming up with a new excuse. He’d think of something.

She was worth it.

[jynrso]

on second glance, part 2

when i first wrote this fic, i didn't intend for it to have a second chapter. but then as i started planning for the next work in this series, i realized that i needed a bit of cushion between this one and the next one. so here is the unexpected chapter two, the day after! i hope you enjoy! read part one: tumblr & ao3 read part two on ao3!

Seducing Tav is easier said than done. 

The woman in question doesn’t stumble out of her tent until late the next morning, one hand pressed against her side where she’d been stabbed. Everyone else has been up for an hour or two beforehand, milling around and waiting for her to wake, himself included. Despite the book in his hands, he isn’t paying much attention to the text on the page, leaving him in the prime position to notice her before the rest of their companions. 

Now that she’s his target, he intends to learn everything he can about her as quickly as possible. It’s the first time he’s cared enough to observe her. With her hood down and the direct sunlight shining down on her as she blearily pulls back the canvas of her tent, he has a few precious seconds to gather intel while her guard is lowered. 

With her hood down and the direct sunlight shining down on her, he can clearly see details of her face he hasn’t otherwise noticed. Most notable is the dark tattoo on her right cheekbone that spells out the word “sinner” in dark, block letters. It’s an odd design choice, one that doesn’t do her any favors, but to each their own, he supposes. It’s not the worst tattoo he’s ever seen, not by far, so he moves on. 

Based on the scars peeking out of her clothing and the calloused, bruised skin of her knuckles, he doubts she’s a noblewoman or lady of high standing. There’s evidence of an old injury on one side of her face, curling around her jawbone and down to her neck but remaining mostly hidden underneath the gorget she always wears. The multitude of freckles dotting her cheeks speak to a life spent in the sun and the steely flint in her eyes tells him that she’s not the type to be fucked around with. 

That, of course, is exactly what their party tries to do upon seeing her. As they rush her, the most obvious expression on Tav’s face is the distress she just barely manages to clamp down on when she realizes what she’s just walked into. 

With barely concealed amusement, he watches as she tries to make a silent escape but to no avail. Before she can do anything, Gale jumps up from the campfire upon seeing her, rushing to her side to lead her toward where the others are eating breakfast. What everyone seems to miss, however, is Tav’s near imperceptible flinch when Gale guides her over with a light brush against the small of her back. And when she reluctantly sits down, he notes the way she chooses a spot all to herself and hunches inward, as if to make herself smaller, as if to avoid any more accidental touches. 

The puzzle he’d started piecing together the previous night grows bigger. Perhaps this is the perfect opportunity to play the knight in shining armor, to save her from the beast of small talk. She’s the hero type –– or, at least, the type that saves children at the expense of herself. The whole –– she protects everyone but who protects her? –– sort of thing. 

What she needs him to be, then, is the one who saves her. It shouldn’t be too hard, even if the thought of being good and kind for no reason makes him feel sick to his stomach. (After all, no one had saved him –– no one had ever even tried.  

Would she have? He doubts it.)

Reminding himself of why he’s doing this in the first place, Astarion saunters over to the group from where he’d been standing a few feet away with an easy smile on his face. He takes a seat on the other side of the log Tav’s occupying, keeping a small space between them. Even though small, “accidental” touches are often the easiest way to start a courtship, he has to go slow with this one, lest he scare her off too soon. 

“Why, good morning, darling,” he practically purrs, his voice low, only for her. “You’re looking much better. Thank goodness I was out in the woods last night, hmm?” 

Tav’s hands curl around the small bowl of porridge that Gale had handed her seconds earlier, body angled just slightly away from his. She shoots him a look with disagreement written all over it, likely gearing up to tell him that she would have made it back on her own just fine without his help, but Shadowheart interrupts their side conversation before she can open her mouth. 

“How are you feeling? I healed you the best I could last night but if anything’s still bothering you, I can take another look.” 

Tav shifts, one of her arms subtly curving around the area where she’d been stabbed. Though if Shadowheart’s to be believed, the wound is no longer open, Tav still moves as if it pains her. Yet, predictably, instead of saying so, she responds, her voice slightly raspy, “I’m good.” A pause, then she adds as an afterthought, brows furrowing together, “. . .Thank you.” 

Shadowheart blinks. There’s a faint pink blush high on her cheekbones at the (unexpected?) show of gratitude; though he has no intention of suddenly beginning to thank their cleric after every small bit of healing, it’s useful information that he files away for the future, in case seducing Tav doesn’t work out as planned. “I –– it really –– ” 

Luckily for both of them, Karlach bursts into the conversation without any tact, practically vibrating in excitement. Her voice booms, effectively cutting off Shadowheart’s stilted response and her attempt at an emotion, exclaiming, “ Tav! Did you really take down the entire goblin camp by yourself?” 

This is the most direct attention that’s been placed on the other rogue since she’d first joined the party. Her face remains flinty but Astarion can see a hint of a flush rising up on her cheeks, shoulders hunching up slightly despite her attempts to remain steadfast. Her efforts are admirable –– perhaps they’re believable to the others, but not to him. 

“Not the entire camp,” she mutters. 

“Astarion told us –– ” 

“I did nothing of that sort!” he interjects, lying blatantly as he very much recalls the way he’d burst into the camp last night and announced that she’d “taken out the entirety of the goblin camp.”

“Well, why don’t we let the woman herself explain?” Gale says, motioning back to her. He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees; there’s nothing but warmth in his gaze when he looks at her, putting Astarion on edge. “The floor is yours, my lady.” 

“There’s not much to explain,” Tav stresses, seeming as if she’d rather be back in the goblin camp than have this conversation. “When we were there yesterday, I slipped poison in their drink. I went back last night to see if it worked, which it did, and when I saw an opportunity to take out the leaders, I took it.” 

When she’s met with silence, she scowls, irritable that her answer isn’t enough for them. “That’s all. There are still plenty of goblins for the rest of you.” 

Unable to help himself (and forgetting he’s supposed to be playing hero), Astarion barks out a laugh. “Darling, I don’t think that’s the issue here.” 

“There isn’t an issue,” Wyll corrects, holding up placating hands. His eyes are open, kind; it makes Astarion’s stomach churn. “We should probably go back and take care of the rest of the goblins but you did everyone a favor. Everyone’s just wondering why you didn’t say anything –– we could have helped.”  

“He’s got a point,” Karlach admits. “We were working on a plan and then you just ––  wham! Turned up half-dead in camp!” 

“The problem’s solved,” she says tightly, holding her bowl with a white-knuckled grip. Had she been any stronger, Astarion thinks she might have shattered it by now. 

“She’s right –– why are we still discussing this?” Lae’zel says in irritation. “The leaders are dead. We should be moving forward toward the creche.” 

Shadowheart throws up her hands. “ Enough with the damn creche, gith!”  

Lae’zel sneers, top lip curling upward. “My name is Lae’zel, istik , and I –– “ 

And that’s his cue to cut in and save her from this interrogation by shifting the conversation in another direction. “While the goblins are dead, we aren’t any closer to figuring out how to remove these tadpoles from our heads.” He taps the side of his forehead to prove his point. “And I, for one, am rather concerned about turning into one of those squids.”  

“The unusual thing is –– with our cases, I mean,” Gale starts, leaning forward. His eyes spark in excitement, so much so that Astarion nearly groans. “Is that none of us have shown any signs of ceremorphosis. By now, we should have. . .”  

With the attention now off of her and onto Gale and the subject of their tadpoles, Tav visibly relaxes. It takes her a minute or two but when she finally glances over at Astarion, her gaze meets his with a look of gratitude, dipping her chin down ever so slightly in thanks. In the right lighting, Tav is . . . well, she could be considered beautiful, by some. 

(If he’d been anyone else, his undead heart might have skipped a beat in his chest. But he’s not –– and it doesn’t.)

From there, matters are quickly wrapped up. There’s no argument about their plan for the day; because of Tav’s actions the prior night, everyone generally agreed that circling back to the goblin camp and cleaning up the remainder is the best place to start. Since they’d completed most of their preparations last night in expectation of taking down the goblins’ leadership the next morning, it doesn’t take long for the group to get ready and on the road. 

With their current camp only just out of range of the goblins’, the walk over to it isn’t long. Tav spends most of it flitting in and out of the shadows, using the excuse that she’s scouting the area and making sure they remain undetected as they go. It’s a flimsy explanation and Astarion isn’t the only one who sees it for what it is; but considering how uncomfortable she’d been earlier, and at any prior attempt to get to know her more, everyone silently and unanimously decides to leave her be for now. 

(Though that’s not to say they hadn’t tried earlier. Perhaps foolishly rallied by the amount of information they’d gotten out of Tav about the goblin camp, some of their companions tried to push their luck even further, curiosity winning out over better judgment. 

“You don’t talk much about yourself, Tav,” Wyll comments. “Where were you, before all this?” 

It’s a casual enough statement but Astarion can hear the probing curiosity underneath his words. Astarion suspects that everyone in their party is hiding something but most have been relatively forthcoming with small details of their lives. Even he has dropped a few morsels about his life in Baldur’s Gate as a magister, untrue as they may be. But Tav has given them nothing. 

The other rogue stiffens slightly upon being addressed, the only sign that she’d heard Wyll’s question. She doesn’t turn to face him, merely continues packing the necessities for travel. Vaguely, she replies, “Baldur’s Gate.” 

Wyll remains undeterred. “Oh? Perhaps we ran into each other –– “ 

Tav brushes him off brusquely, effectively ending the matter before it even begins. “We wouldn’t have.” 

With that, she gets up and walks away, leaving the folk hero floundering. Astarion, watching their interaction from his tent, delights in the uncomfortable air that lingers in her wake.)

Using the lack of attention on Tav to his advantage, Astarion slinks into the surrounding forest himself, keeping an eye out for her. It takes him longer than he expects to catch a glimpse of her; she’s just as stealthy as he is, with the flash of her cloak being the only thing that gives her away when he approaches her location.  

“Try not to disappear on me quite yet, darling,” he drawls, holding up his hands in a mocking sign of surrender. They’re far enough ahead that he stops right in front of her, forcing her to do so, too. “I just want to have a little chat and then you can go back to your scouting.” 

Predictably, Tav says nothing, just crosses her arms over her chest, and looks at him expectantly. 

“Is it so wrong of me to see how you’re doing?” he begins. “After all, you passed out quite dramatically in my arms last night. Quite a lot of blood, too –– took me ages to get it all out of my clothing.” After squeezing out every last drop into his mouth.

Perhaps she thinks that if she says nothing, he’ll go away. It’s tempting –– she’s slowly driving him to the brink of insanity –– but he needs this, needs someone like her on his side if he has any hopes of beating Cazador. He must persist, even if it kills a part of him. 

He sighs, a flare of irritation rising up inside of him. Must he do all the work? It’s taken two centuries but he’s honed his skills of seduction to an effectively wielded blade; as much as it disgusts him, his advances aren’t normally so one-sided. It doesn’t help that she won’t stop glaring at him, especially when he’s done nothing to cause this sort of reaction from her. 

“Will you stop looking at me like that? Gods, woman –– ” he snaps, the words slipping from his tongue before he can pull them back. His eyes widen as soon as he realizes his mistake, and he desperately opens his mouth to try and smooth this over –– 

“Do you want me to get down on my knees and thank you, Astarion?” she interrupts coolly. The accented way she says his name, lips curling around the vowels, does something to him; that, combined with the image of her on her knees in front of him, has lust running concurrently with his annoyance through his veins. “That’s why you found me, isn’t it?” 

“Is this how you treat everyone who’s done you a kindness?” he retorts, inwardly scrambling. Her words are too close to the truth, leaving him reeling and feeling unbalanced. “Would you rather I’d left you on your own to bleed out? I don’t know if you remember, darling, but you practically collapsed before me.” 

Tav bares her teeth, looking for a moment more feral than usual. One of her hands strays to her blade sheathed at her side despite him currently being no physical threat to her. Her tense muscles ripple underneath her skin, weight shifting onto her front leg as if she’s anticipating a fight. 

In an instance of stunning clarity, he realizes she feels as if he’s backed her into a corner despite not trying to. For what reason, he doesn’t know, but this is something he can use. He pushes down the wave of shame that comes with this realization and plows forward, reminding himself why he’s doing this. 

“While I’d love to see you on your knees,” he murmurs, taking another step toward her. “That’s not why I sought you out. Rather, I have a . . .” He mulls over the words, then snaps his fingers, “ proposition for you.” 

“A proposition,” she repeats flatly.

“You and I –– we’re not like the others,” he continues smoothly. “Besides the obvious, of course.” 

Tav arches a brow in question. He clarifies, “The whole rogue business, darling. Do try to keep up.” 

He continues, pushing forward to keep her on the hook. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes ––  us . The two of us are different. Without these tadpoles, we never would have run with this sort of group. They’re too . . . oh , what’s the word? Flashy, maybe. Too self-righteous. And after last night, I realized that you’re someone I’d rather have on my side, so to speak.” 

Astarion watches as his words begin to take root. Her glare is replaced by a more critical, appraising look, and her muscles begin to relax. Still a threat, but not an active one. No longer in fight-or-flight mode, though still suspicious, she asks, “So –– what? You want me to watch your back? That’s it?” 

“We’ll watch each other’s backs,” he corrects. “Excuse me for saying so, but you haven’t exactly made the best impression on the group.” 

That’s putting it lightly. While she’d done everyone a favor by taking out the goblins’ leaders, she hasn’t made any attempt to endear herself to their party. In fact, he’d argue that she’s gone out of her way to remain separate and isolated. 

She scowls. “Neither have you.” 

“I’d be offended if that wasn’t the point of all this.” His eyes flash, the corner of his mouth curling up into a grin. “Now, I think it’s in our best interest to stick around, see if Halsin or the githyanki can remove the tadpoles. Strength in numbers, and all that.” 

“I haven’t agreed to anything,” she points out. “You just want me to pay you back for helping me out last night, is that it? Return the bloody favor?” 

Astarion resists the urge to roll his eyes, forcing himself to lay the charm on thicker in the fact of her stubbornness. “This benefits both of us. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be you playing the hero next time. But we can’t guarantee that anyone else will care enough to look out for us except for us.” 

“And that’s all you want? Nothing more?” 

The incredulous note in her voice would have offended him had he not built his current persona on the foundation of sex and charisma. All the same, her quick assumption makes a part of him roil in disgust. As a rallying cry, he reminds himself that this is necessary –– he needs allies against Cazador.  

“I certainly wouldn’t be opposed, not with a pretty thing like you,” he purrs. “But only if you’re willing.” 

She mulls his proposition over, looking off in the distance as she does. Underneath the sounds of the forest around them, he can just barely make out their companions’ voices as they approach their location. 

“Fine,” she says finally, holding out a hand for him to shake. “We watch each other’s backs for now.”  

“You’ve got a deal, my dear,” he replies. And if he lets his hand linger against hers for a few minutes longer than necessary, fingers caressing her own, it’s all in the name of ensuring his future. “We ought to get back, don’t you think? Unless you want everyone to think that we’ve been, ah, exploring each other’s bodies, which, as I’ve said –– ” 

Tav makes a rude gesture with her fingers behind her back as she heads back toward the sounds of their party. Ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut and telling himself that he should be elated he has a semblance of a plan in place, Astarion forces a chuckle and follows close behind. 

Despite their tentative alliance, it’s clear that his promise to watch her back has done little to endear himself to her. Tav is damn slippery, especially now that he’s actively trying to catch her. Any attempt at flirtation has become infinitely more difficult when he can barely engage her in a conversation; when she’s not giving him limited, few-worded answers, she disappears from sight before he can even open his mouth. 

All the while, his hunger grows. Their group frequently gets into an inordinately large amount of fights, all of which drain his already low supply of strength. Managing on rodents or the occasional deer alone is no longer feasible; he’s getting sloppy, with too many close calls that would never happen on a proper diet. 

All the while, the taste of Tav’s blood haunts him. It hadn’t been much but it had been enough to get him intoxicated off of the taste. He can smell the others’ blood, can guess at what it might taste like (Shadowheart, for example, undoubtedly has a heavy, enigmatic flavor –– but likely much too sweet for his taste), and would be perfectly satisfied drinking from most of them. . .but it’s Tav’s blood he wants ––  craves, even. 

And so his attempt at a slow, practiced seduction very nearly fizzles out days after it’d formed in his mind. Unable to think of anything other than the hunger gnawing at his gut, he acts on instinct, on impulse, and sneaks up on her one night while she sleeps. 

Just a little taste, he tells himself, to tide himself over. He kneels at her side, mesmerized by the sound of her heart thumping and the heady rush of her blood through her veins, and his fangs slide out unconsciously. Just a taste and nothing more. . .

Tav wakes. 

[nevada-wrytes]

Excerpt from There Were Six of Them

Nick

A Saturday in November, Junior Year

It was an off day, and on off days Nick needed to take a walk.

Walks were good. Nick liked that his great uncle's house was right next to the woods. They were large and easy to explore. Easy to get lost, too, but Nick had spent his childhood running around woods so he felt confident in his abilities to not do so.

The woods were calming. An eerie hush fell upon them at this hour, too early for the world to wake up, but too late for it to fall asleep. It's not the Nick particularly wanted to spend his early morning hours wandering outside, but he had woken up from a night of no sleep with an itch under his skin that meant he either had to run or cut himself and his friends would be disappointed if he did the latter.

That's why he was putting one foot in front of the other on a barely visible trail this cold November morning. This day gave him the ick. Life have him the ick. He wanted to tune it all out and the woods gave him the opportunity for just that.

One by one, he turned off his senses.

It was cold this morning, but he'd put on a jacket. There was no sun in the sky to warm up the air so his fingers quickly turned red. He shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't see that. No more.

The woods were vast, but not so vast. He could hear the shum of cars on the highway miles away. Under his feet were the sounds of branches breaking and leaves crunching, so he gently tuned that away too.

It smelled cold, but the cold before a freezing wind, not the cold before a snow storm. Disappointing. Somewhere in the woods a cabin was using it's fireplace. Nick could smell the smoke. He could taste it too, but not because it was nearby, he had just forgotten to eat breakfast and now that was on his mind. But one wish, and no more.

Finally, he closed his eyes, trusting his feet to carry him. A dangerous endeavor, with the state of the trail, but he would be fine. He just wanted the world to be silent, dark, numb as the way he felt all the time.

Nick kept walking well into the morning.

Then it became the afternoon.

Did Nick have something to do today? That question was weighing on his mind, eating away at the calm he tried to enforce.

Why did he feel like he was forgetting something?

His stomach growled. Oh, he'd forgotten to eat. Yeah, that was probably it.

Nick was so far into the forest that he didn't recognize his surroundings, but he was, by luck, able to find a road that led him out of it.

By the time houses started popping up more frequently, Nick's stomach was killing him. His hunger led him to a small shopping center off the side of the main road.

Thank fuck there was a small, greasy pizza joint in between a nail salon and UPS store. He walked in, jumping at the sound of the bell in the door as he did so, the first reminder of humanity he's had all day. He relaxed as soon as the warmth of the giant oven hit him, very welcome to his now numb limbs.

He approached the counter, thought for a second, then reached down to grab his wallet from his pocket first.

Except his pocket was empty.

Patting around, he found his phone, dead as hell— when was the last time he charged it?— and a few crumpled up dollars in his jeans that probably had been through the wash.

He had a total of seven dollars and thirty cents to his name.

Great.

Okay, Nick. You're going to go up to that counter and ask for a slice of pizza. You are going to speak clearly and concisely. You've been learning English for four years now, this is elementary stuff.

He approached the person behind the counter.

“Excuse me? How much for this?”

Nick wanted to facepalm.

The worker looked at the chump change he had pushed across the counter. That, his accent, and the acute redness of his still thawing body must have made him look homeless.

He wanted to go back and explain that no, he did actually have a home and it's here in the U.S., he's just been on a walk in the woods for hours, but it was too late.

The cashier nodded slowly. “Well you can get a slice and a small drink, is that okay with you, sir?”

Nick didn't like the babying way they spoke to him, but that's probably his fault for walking in looking like a drug addict.

“Yes. Just cheese and one diet coke, please.”

“Is pepsi okay?”

Nick looked at them. “There's no way you just asked that.”

The guy behind the counter chuckled, “Sorry, I had to. Anyways, we'll have that ready for you in just a minute. Feel free to find a seat while you wait.”

Oh, he was kind of cute. Nick forced these thoughts out of his mind as he sat in a torn booth.

First he'd been annoyed at the guy now he was falling in love with him.

Nick watched him busy around the kitchen as he worked. He couldn't have been much older than him, maybe a senior working a part time job on the weekend.

He had fluffy brown hair and broad, strong shoulders.

Nick didn't even realize he was the only customer in the store, and this guy was the only worker.

Absently, he took out his phone as if to text someone about this encounter, but his phone was still a lifeless brick.

Nick sighed. He had to go through more dreaded interaction today.

“Hey, really sorry, do you have a charger I could borrow? My phone's dead.” Nick had approached the counter again and was holding up his phone with the dark screen and pointing to it as proof.

The guy looked up from his phone again. “Oh yeah, uhm, let me check.”

He went into the back for an excruciatingly long second where Nick thought he'd abandoned him and his pizza, but when he came back he was holding a black cord.

“Does this work? Sorry, I had to loot my boss's office. She's the only one that owns a Samsung.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Nick took it and went back to his seat. He plugged his phone in and powered it on. As soon as it had one percent, he was suddenly flooded with messages.

His friends, his psychiatrist, even his speech therapist, it seemed, had texted or called him multiple times on every single app imaginable. He even saw a text from his Great Uncle, but that one just said ‘friends looking for you’.

Nick set his phone down, not too keen to deal with that until he fixed the gnawing hunger in his stomach, but unfortunately, he didn't have the liberty of choice.

In no more than two seconds, his phone rang. The caller ID was one he was very familiar with.

“Hello?”

“DUDE WHAT THE FUCK!”

Nick flinched from the speaker.

“What is it?”

The person on the other end- Codi- huffed an angry breath. “North!! Where have you been?? Everyone's been trying to contact you for hours? Do you know what time it is??”

Nick checked the top of his screen. “Three pm?”

“Fucking funny, wise guy. You missed your appointment with your psychiatrist and when she contacted all of us to try and see why, we found out from your uncle that you haven't been seen all day?? Where the fuck are you North, what the fuck have you been doing?!?”

“You sound mad.”

“Holy fuck- yeah no shit I'm mad, Sherlock.” He sniffed. Codi sounded like he was crying, sometimes he did that when he was angry, which just confirmed Nick's suspicion.

“Where are you? Are you okay? Have you taken your meds?”

Something flashed in Nick's memories. A bottle of pills, untouched, on his nightstand and a bright screen in front of his face and a thick comforter he did not want to get out of and the distance between him and his nightstand that seemed unsurpassable. He may have remembered why his phone was dead this morning.

At the same time, the guy had come with his pizza. He looked awkward having overheard their conversation, but set his food down silently.

Nick asked him, “Where is this? Like the town?”

“Ugh, Burkford.”

“Burkford.” Nick said into the phone.

There were many grumbles on the other end. It sounded like someone else said “Burkford?!?! Where the fuck is that?” Followed by a short pause then- “Forty-five minutes away?!?”

Codi sighed into the phone. “Okay, North, I need you to stay put okay? We're gonna drive to get you, so don't do anything crazy. You're in some place warm, yeah?”

“It's cozy.”

“Okay, send me your location and we'll be there soon. And don't worry, okay? I'm not mad, I'm just glad you're okay.”

“Wait!” Nick stopped him before he hung up. He lowered his voice. “Who's with you right now?”

“The whole gang, we're in Lux’s basement. Why?”

“Well ugh-” He lowered his voice even further, maybe mumbling a bit, “Could only you come? And maybe Flynn? Not everyone else. I don't want them to see-” -me like this. He didn't finish, but Codi understood.

“Okay,” he spoke, much gentler than before, “see you soon, kay? TTYL.” Then he hung up.

Nick set down the phone. The pizza guy was still standing there.

“Yeesh, that your boyfriend? He sounds strict.”

Nick’s heart jumped at the word ‘boyfriend’ but there was no hostility behind how the guy said it. “No, it's my friend. And he's just worried about me.”

He started eating his pizza. Grease and cheese had never tasted so good.

The guy sat down across from him in the booth, despite never being invited. Nick noticed he had multiple rings on his fingers.

“So what'd you do? Run away from home?”

Nick looked at him, and maybe the stranger got the wrong idea, because he quickly followed up with, “Sorry, small town gossiper instincts. We don't get a lot of strangers here— you don't have to tell me if you don't want to- I realize that could be a very personal question-”

Nick swallowed. “No, I just want to eat first. Sorry, I'm starving.”

The guy laughed. He had a chipped tooth. Right in the front. “Damn, here I am interrupting your meal. I'll give you a second, yeah. My name's Jeremy, by the way. I go to college in the state, but my aunt lives up here so I come see her on the weekends and work part time. It's a good trade off, except for the gas money.

Oh shit, he's way older than I thought.

Nick chewed slowly, trying to come up with a good story because he didn't want to seem like a lowly high school kid to this cool older guy. For once he was grateful for his freakishly tall height that will let this lie pass.

“I'm Nick.”

“Nice, do you go to college around here?”

“College isn't for me. I'm thinking about getting into modeling.”

Jeremy nodded approvingly, “Well, you certainly have the looks for it.” He didn't hide the way his eyes raked over him.

Nick sipped his diet coke. “Thanks.”

Holy shit did a cool older guy just seriously flirt with me???

“Ugh, you don't look half bad yourself?” Nick had heard that phrase in a movie once. He was pretty sure it was what you were supposed to say when complimented.

Jeremy laughed, “You're so silly. Anyways, I heard your friend isn't coming for another forty minutes so..” He looked at him through his eyelashes. “Wanna kill some time?”

Nick felt his heart beating furiously in his chest. He choked on the carbonation in his soda. “Uhm, I guess?”

…

Jeremy had a Nintendo Switch. He brought it because apparently his shifts were boring since barely anyone came down to the restaurant. They played Mario Kart and Jeremy showed Nick his Animal Crossing island. Then a black SUV pulled up in front of the place and Nick stood up.

“That's for me. I have to go.”

“Aw, alright. Can I get your Snap, at least?”

At the same moment, the bell above the door rang. A short curly haired devil appeared at Nick's side. “No you cannot, because he doesn't have Snapchat.”

Jeremy seemed surprised at their new addition. Codi had already hooked his arm protectively around Nick’s.

“Oh, are you more of a discord guy? I could give you my ID.”

With an eager nod, Nick let Jeremy type in his username into his phone and sent a friend request. Once that matter was settled, Codi dragged him out.

“Bye!” Nick managed to wave before the door slammed shut.

Codi opened the passenger side door. “After you,” he did a little gentlemanly bow. Nick chuckled.

He climbed into the car and said hello to Flynn, who was driving. Codi climbed into the passenger's seat right next to him. He sat in the middle so he was closer and could also type the directions back home into Flynn's phone.

They were on the highway before Nick even realized. No one said anything, but Codi grabbed his hand, which was a welcome, grounding presence.

It was getting dark and Nick suddenly felt really sleepy. He rested his head on Codi’s shoulder. Codi started running fingers through his hair.

“Are you gonna tell us where you've been all day? I made sure the girls weren't in the car with us, but they were worried. We were all pretty worried, North. You just disappeared on us and no one could contact you- we thought- I thought the worst-”

“My phone died. I didn't get a charger until I was at the restaurant.”

“Okay, but how did you even get there? It's so far away-”

“I walked.”

Codi laughed. It took him a second to figure out Nick wasn't joking.

“Wait, you're serious? You just walked? It's at least a five hour walk! How?! Why- don't tell me you were meeting that older guy. Why didn't you just tell us? We could have driven you-”

Nick huffed. “I didn't know I was going to meet him. I just went for a walk. Then I was hungry. He works there and we were just talking.” His tone was a bit more defensive than he meant it to be. Codi must have figured that out and dropped the subject. It was a while before he spoke up again.

“You're stupid, you know that? You went walking in the middle of the woods with a dead phone and no way to contact someone if something happened.” He poked him in the temple, “No brain cells in that pretty little head of yours.”

Nick pouted. “Not true, there's so many brain cells.”

“Right, and I'm guessing it was those brain cells that passed the physics test we had yesterday?”

Nick groaned. “He posted the grades?”

Flynn spoke up from the front. “Yeah, you know Kasser, punctual as always. I narrowly avoided failing. Brought my average down five whole points.”

If Flynn had done this bad, Nick was terrified to see his own results. Codi rubbed his scalp some more. It calmed him, and that, combined with the heat on full blast, made him even sleepier. Nick forced himself awake. He didn't want to fall asleep, he wanted to keep talking to his friends. They made his icky day feel a lot less ickier. He wondered why he hadn't gone to see them sooner.

Suddenly, Nick's stomach grumbled. Maybe one slice of pizza for both breakfast and lunch wasn't enough.

Codi regarded Flynn, “You think Uncle Tao will have some free food for us poor little guys?”

Flynn snorted. “The only poor little guy is me for having to put up with your free loading.”

“Hey! You're supposed to be the nice one! And you can't say that because you're taller than me, so,” Codi stuck his tongue out at him. Flynn must have done so back because Codi laughed.

Nick recognized this part of town and when Flynn turned towards his apartment.

Codi focused back on Nick. “You need to eat some food and then take your meds. I grabbed them from your uncle's house on our way here. Also, you're gonna have to explain to Whitney why you missed your appointment.”

Nick hummed. “I didn't know you were on first name basis with my psychiatrist.”

“Yeah, I didn't know how to tell you this, but I'm going to be Mr. Whitney Mellows soon,” said Codi, completely deadpan.

Flynn whistled, “Congrats,” at the same time Nick flicked Codi on the nose.

“I'm hungry. Let's get out of here.”

“Let's.”

Taglist (ask to be added/removed): @thebonecarver @victorfrankingstein @confused-as-all-hell @iambecomeyourvillain @brekkercookie @purpl-cryptid @reyyya @thecurlychameleon @naz-yalensky @thesexypanda-boo @kazoo-the-demjin @twelve-kinds-of-trouble @oc-writing-corner

[karlachsicepack]

Faerûnian 29 Day Writing Challenge

aka el tries to get back into writing after like 3 years this writing challenge inspired me a lot so i'm going to make you all suffer for it. i'll be doing a mix of the sfw and nsfw prompts, but starting with sfw for today! i'll also be mixing and matching my tavs/durges, so there will probably be little to no continuity. please be nice i haven't posted any writing in like 5 years ;~;

(SFW) Day 1: What was Tav doing when they were abducted?

Tav used: Develya, Wood Elf Rogue

The tavern wasn’t busy, given that it was the middle of the morning. The sun was still in its climb, offering the long fingers of nearly-midday sunlight to the bustling streets and buildings. Although… Most of those in the tavern hadn’t seen the bustling of the city in a long while. Especially not Develya Aldervale.

“Mornin’, sunshine.” If the bartender’s gruff voice didn’t wake her, the loud slam of the tankard onto the counter certainly did. One green and one blue eye, shadowed by last night’s charcoal, opened blearily, trying desperately to blink away the headache. “Mrrrnn.” Came the half assed response, long fingers reaching almost desperately for the tankard before her. Tankard half emptied in a single swig, the Elf woman pushed herself to her feet, finishing the rest of the drink on the way up. She strode to the latrine, making sure to fix her make-up and ensuring that her hair was perfectly styled to look messy before she returned. Moving back to her usual seat, she took the opportunity to glance at the tavern’s occupants. Two of the other usuals, one asleep at the bar and the other asleep on one of the tables, and one other man at the end of the bar, seeming to be nursing a pint of his own. No good marks, then.

She should wait until later. Most of the coin in her pocket had not been hers originally, almost all of the jewelry dangling from her ears and placed gently around her neck and wrists were not purchased by her, either. If anyone ever asked, she had won them fairly, but her opponents might disagree. The only ring she wore was her own, the silver ring inlaid with vines that wrapped around the band. She would have to leave this tavern soon, find a new area of the city to scalp. There were too many familiar faces, too many men that she had skimmed from already that she couldn't really risk finally sobering up long enough to two and two together.

But fuck it.

Waving to the bartender for another tankard, she sauntered to the end of the bar. This stranger with his hood up was just too tempting to ignore. Swaying her hips as she walked, she watched him as he watched her approach, a satisfied twinkle in her eyes. "Good morning, stranger." She purred, planting herself on the stool next to him. "What's a handsome devil like you doing in a tavern like this at this hour?" The man chuckled, lowering the hood, revealing the pointed ears and blonde hair that hid beneath. “Looking for an old friend.” He murmured, leaning back to giver her an unashamed glance up and down. A wood elf, like herself. An accent that was far from Baldurian, and the fresh scent of the woods still lingering on his cloak. Easy pickings.

“What’s your name, sunshine?” The man asked, offering a hand. “Elya Firepetal.” She answered, shaking his hand. They were calloused and strong, he clearly worked with a sword or other weapon. He responded with some line, the same that they always do - about how her name matched the fiery shade of her hair, or how the vine like tattoos upon her face were unusual this side of the Gate’s walls - and gave her his name. “Well, Ilikas,” she murmured, gesturing for their drinks to be refilled, “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

The morning passed swiftly to afternoon, drinks flowing almost constantly. Ilikas had proven to be a fierce opponent clearly no stranger to alcohol, but Develya was no lightweight either. They found themselves taking part in a card game, up against three men who had been strangers a mere hour before. Develya sat with riches before her, already toying with the necklace around her neck that one of the men had bought his wife just that morning. Her blouse strategically unbuttoned over the course of the game, revealing just enough cleavage to distract. And distract she did. Leaning forward as though to scratch an itch on her ankle, she slipped a card into her palm from the pocket sewn into her trousers, readying another winning hand. Slamming her win onto the table, another chorus of swears and noises of disgust sweetening her ears, she locked eyes with Ilikas across the table, noticing something in his gaze. Raising her tankard to her lips, she considered. He was attractive, that was sure, and there was nothing stopping her from emptying his wallet and fucking him.

“Gentlemen, I think I’ll cash out for the day.” She murmured, offering the table another flash of cleavage as she swept the gold coins into her pockets. “Me, as well.” The wood elf man agreed, picking up the few coins he had left on the table. Hook, line and sinker.

The man’s hand snaked around her waist as she walked to the exit, and she pushed closer to him. This day had gone textbook perfectly. She was about to get everything she could have wanted from a good score.

Stepping out into the warm afternoon air, all excitement about the coming pleasures disappeared at the sight before her.

Five men, armed with spears wrapped with vines and silver inlays, the blaze of the Aldervale house proud on their chests, stood in the way, all weapons pointed towards them both.

“I’m sorry about the dramatics, Ms. Aldervale.” Ilikas murmured into her ear, pressing some sort of hidden blade into her back. “Your father wants you home.”

Shit.

Heartbeat thundering in her ears, she searched desperately for some way out. The men were in a perfect semicircle, no way through them. Her only chance was back. She raised her hands with a sigh. Ilikas chuckled. “There’s a good girl.” The blade moved from her back, giving her exactly the space that she needed.

Twisting around, she tossed a handful of sand from the pouch sewn into her pocket, causing the man to drop weapons and protect his eyes. She darted around him, disappearing back into the tavern once more. Bounding over confused patrons and their tables alike, she made a beeline for the back door, hearing the six Aldervale men entering loudly. Shouts of “seize her!” and “stop that woman!” roared over the crowd, but the awkward arms that reached out for her were no match for the woman’s athletics. Leaping and writhing through the crowd, she pushed through the kitchen’s doors, barreling past cooks to reach that final door that would lead out onto the street and to her freedom.

Catching one of the staff with her shoulder in her haste, she stumbled, crashing through the doors and landing on her knees in the alley. She barely had time to notice the other people fleeing, all running in the same direction down the street before something caught her eye. It lowered from the sky, reaching its long tentacle towards her, but she didn’t have time to panic further. It touched her shoulder, and a strange sensation washed over her. Like a feeling of flight, or maybe falling. The darkness covered her vision, and the Nautiloid claimed yet another victim.

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

(...but I am very very lost.) - [4]

Kazuha and GN!Reader

CW: Mentioned injury, blood, drowning.

A/N: Not me forgetting I was gonna post this like a billion days ago :’)

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Luckily the storm did not last for long, blowing over by the second morning of being stuck in that little cave.

Seeing as it was safe to finally leave Kazuha offered to carry you, though this wasn’t really an offer you could refuse considering, well, you ALMOST DROWNED AND LOOK LIKE A MUMMY. So you accepted even if you can’t exactly enjoy this, being in pain and all.

It wasn’t so bad though, even if your surrounding and the both of you smelled like, well, funky sea water, it was quite nice seeing the rising sun again. You wish you had a camera, or rather, “kamera” if you really were in Genshin to snap a shot of Kazuha against the morning rays.

WHy must he be so pretty? CUrse this bishounen.

You start to wonder if you look similar to him too, with stunning anime but not looks. But you quickly stop yourself because you feel that the shock of seeing yourself will either wake you up ruining the whole dream or cause you some sort of mental break down from looking like a high quality self-insert oc commission of yourself.

You’re not ready for that...and you’ve already got ocs and they’re like at least 300% cooler than you at this moment. And they have like 30 lovers and besties in this world too. You’re not ready for a romantic relationship yet, you’d rather be friends with the characters instead.

But...But what if you were an npc? What if you looked like some generic-

Oh good, Kazuha’s saying something again. You don’t want to go down that train of thought.

“We’ll be taking a rest at the inn closest to the harbor, it’d be best to get you properly cleaned before you see any doctor. Besides,” Kazuha looks down at you with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I’m sure you’d like to see this “bishounen” you want to curse not look so messy, right?”

He did not just-

Kazuha doesn’t react much when you tug his ponytail in retaliation. He just hums amused but he narrows his eyes just slightly. “While I am grateful that you are active, you should settle down, The cuts on your arm could open again.” Right.

You let his hair go and hear him mutter a quiet “thank you” upon release. He was right you shouldn’t be moving too much. Now your hand is even sorer...more sore? Sorest? You’re too tired to think now, the oc/npc crisis wore you out more than you’d like even if it’s just mentally.

If you’re remembering correctly, that inn is the small one just off the main path to the main gate of Liyue. You remember missing it a few times while playing until you did Mona’s quest. You like Mona.

Wait.

If you met Mona would she be able to tell you if you’ve got a constellation in this world? Would it be the same as the one from your home world?CAN SHE TELL YOU YOUR FATE?!?!?!

Nope.

We are not getting into that.

Nuh uh.

Nope.

Not in a thousand years.

-Speaking of thousand of years...what’s the time difference here again? Wasn’t there like a whole every 24hrs in Teyvat is 24mins on Earth???

You begin to question your age but before you are driven into another rabbit hole of thoughts something golden passes by your vision.

IS THAT THE-oh. It’s just a leaf. A pretty leaf.

You take in your surroundings again. You’re much farther from the ocean and just past the Guili Assembly. Damn. A missed opportunity to legit confirm you’re in Genshin and not dreaming.

But you’re distracted by the lovely leaves that pass you by. You reach out to touch one but your left arm is so tired you don’t get far. But Kazuha the sweetheart that he is, catches a leaf fluttering by and gently places it into your hands. Your fingers glide around the leaf. Yep sure does feel like leaf. You bring it to your nose. Yep smells like leaf too.

Kazuha hums again, though it sounds a bit like a laugh? You’re not sure anymore, this leaf is so distracting. You can’t believe how distracted you are.

But soon you find yourself drifting off. The comforting warmth of being in Kazuha’s arms and the gentle swaying as he walked lulling you in and out of consciousness.

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[ 1 ]  /  [ 2 ]  /  [ 3 ]  /  [ 4 ]  /  [ 5 ]  /  [ 6 ] / [ 7 ] / [ 8 ] / [To be continued...]