#ty for the prompt friend! <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[verocitea]

*insert a fun and witty autumn related caption here*

[pippytmi]

For the fake dating thing 11 with whomever you want!

“Do you always get into fist fights on first dates, or am I just lucky?”

There is a bruise already forming on Kara’s jaw, and her hand still has a phantom ache that won’t go away. There might be a touch of blood on the lapel of her shirt, too, but she has been unable to confirm without ready access to a mirror. But it’s this—the firm click of silver six-inch heels against pavement announcing Lena’s arrival—that brings Kara an instant sense of uneasiness.

“It’s kind of in the job description,” Kara shrugs off the rhetorical question. “You know, of being a girlfriend.”

Lena Luthor has an uncanny ability to make Kara feel completely, totally inept in any situation just with a quizzical quirk of an eyebrow and a ruby-red lipsticked frown. Not because she deliberately tries to, but because that’s just the Luthor™ way. Every member of that family seems to have mastered the ability to stare hard enough to make anyone squirm. Even though Kara has known Lena since they were kids—even though they know each other better than anyone else in the world—the effect is the same.

“That might be the most idiotic thing you’ve said all night.” Despite her stoic expression, Lena’s voice is surprisingly soft. “You should have walked away.”

“That would have been worse than not punching Mike Matthews, I think,” Kara says. “Really, I’m ninety-five percent sure I’m supposed to defend your honor, or… whatever the saying is.”

And the strangest thing happens; a glimpse of amusement cracks through Lena’s frown, visible in the ever-so-gentle upturn of the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, did I miss the part where we time traveled a hundred years ago?”

“It’s—you know what I mean,” Kara says. “If I was your real girlfriend everyone would expect me to punch guys in the face for you.”

“Or,” Lena counters, “it might be overkill, since everyone knows you are not inherently a violent person.”

Kara sheepishly tugs at her collar, unable to stop herself from flushing when Lena gazes at her so pointedly. “Does it matter if everyone who meets Mike wants to punch him? Because I’m pretty sure he could make a nun violent.”

“Wow,” Lena says. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a mean thing about anyone before this.”

“Yeah, well…” Kara grimaces. “Mike Matthews brings it out of me. Or maybe this stuffy party does.” Her hand unconsciously goes back to her jacket, and she has to shrug it off all at once, suddenly feeling constricted in her suit. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Lena must be far more uncomfortable than Kara is, with those high heels and the skintight dress and the overall burden of familial expectations hanging on her shoulders, but she masks it remarkably well. “Practice,” she says—sighs. “And whiskey.”

“Gross,” Kara says, unconsciously crinkling her nose as she works at undoing her tie next. “I’m more of a Capri Sun girl myself.”

A short, stunned laugh emerges before Lena can likely quell it. “Right, how could I forget,” she says, and tilts her head in that curious way she does whenever she has a question she isn’t sure how to ask. But it must pass, because her actual question comes out in the form of: “Is there a reason you’re stripping in full view of the paparazzi?” 

“Fan service?” It’s a weak joke, but it makes Lena roll her eyes in that mock-exasperated way that Kara knows would be a laugh out of anyone else. “I just need to cool off, maybe. Then I promise, I’ll be your doting girlfriend for all the cameras again.” She allows a beat before she adds, perhaps unnecessarily, “Without any violence.”

“Yes, I think my mother would very much prefer that.”

Kara laughs, remembering the horrified look on Lillian Luthor’s face with—admittedly—a bit of glee. “Yeah,” she says, “I’m sure she’s thrilled with how tonight is going.”

“Well, she does think it’s all part of a rebellious phase,” Lena muses. “She’s convinced I’m doing this just to spite her.”

Kara has felt the brunt of Lillian’s disapproval back since she first befriended Lena when they were kids, back when they were auditioning for the same movie. Honestly, there is no telling why Lillian has always disliked Kara. Maybe it was because she wasn’t a nepotism baby like all the rest of crowd, or maybe it was because Kara would sneak Lena out of the giant Luthor mansion to go to the movies, or maybe it was because when they were teenagers Kara had wrecked the Porsche (on a dare)...but that disdain has been steadfast ever since they were young, and it’s never once wavered. Everyone knows it. Lena knows it.

Which is why Kara is unable to keep the confusion out of her voice when she says, “Uh. Aren’t you?”

“Aren’t I…what?” Lena repeats, lost.

“Pretending to date me to spite her?” Kara prompts. “You know. Since she hates me?”

Lena’s brow furrows ever-so-slightly. “I didn’t mean dating you,” she says. “I mean dating in general. She thinks it’s a distraction.” She absentmindedly picks at one of the sequins on her dress, a nervous tic that she has never been able to shake. “God, it’s getting cold out here.”

The temperature is just right for Kara, but Lena has always run cold; Kara’s poked fun at her for it once or twice (or for their entire childhood, but who’s keeping track). An unbidden smile, fonder than it has any right to be, inevitably forms. “Well sit down, so you can leech some of my body heat. Besides, you make me tired just looking at you in those heels.”

“Then I’ll be colder,” Lena objects, eyeing the stone of the fountain edge that Kara is currently sitting on. “No way.”

“You’re the most high maintenance fake girlfriend ever,” Kara feigns annoyance. “Here, then. Sit on my lap. And you can put my jacket over your legs.”

It’s hard to exactly tell with the dim lighting of the streetlights, but Lena—blushes? Maybe? And immediately shakes her head. “I’m too heavy.”

“No such thing,” Kara retorts. “I’ll keep stripping if you don’t sit down, Lena. Then your mother will really have a reason to hate me.”

“You are trying to create scandal everywhere you can tonight, aren’t you?” Lena says, but doesn’t move, only crosses her arms and gives Kara an exasperated look. “It would be a hell of a front page.”

“Wow, Lena, if you wanted me naked all you had to do was ask,” Kara says, undoing the first two buttons of her shirt while Lena continues to glare. Then, for fun, she continues up until she hits the top of her bra and Lena’s jaw fully drops in alarm.

“Oh my God, Kara, stop!”

But the ruse works, because as Lena moves forward as if she’s about to button Kara’s shirt back up (or just push her into the fountain), Kara is able to wrap an arm around Lena’s waist and tug her down. Lena yelps in surprise, arms coming up to squeeze around Kara’s neck, and Kara has to hide a grin into the curls that hit her full force in the face.

“Geez, Lena, you’re like an ice cube. Don’t you own a sweater?”

“You asshole,” Lena says, but there is no bite in her voice, only annoyed defeat. “If I get glitter all over you, I’m not going to apologize.”

“I’ll let it slide, this once.” Kara doesn’t mention that there’s nothing in the world that she wouldn’t let Lena get away with. That’s the inevitable truth of being in love with this girl pretty much her whole life—Kara caves first, and she always has. Whether it was what flavor of Gatorade to get from the vending machine, or whether it was who got to sit down in the only remaining chair for a last minute casting call, or whether it was to tag along to Lena’s prom date so the boy wouldn’t try to kiss her, Kara always let Lena call the shots.

Lena exhales; Kara feels the warmth of Lena’s breath against her temple, feels the steady weight of Lena’s body as she shifts on Kara’s lap, feels the rough pattern of Lena’s dress sequins against her fingertips. “You know you’re my best friend, right?” Lena says suddenly.

Those words always make Kara’s heart skip a beat, like they’re right back to being fifteen and nervously holding each other’s sweaty hands while poring over crumpled scripts. “I’d better be,” Kara quips, if only to keep her sappiness at bay, “or I’m returning the BFF necklaces I brought as our first-anniversary gift.”

“I’m serious,” Lena huffs, and her grip around Kara’s neck tightens just a hair. “Will you let me be serious?”

“Okay, okay. One hundred percent seriousness from here on out, I promise.”

For a moment, the only sound is that of cars passing, of the trickle from the water fountain, of the faint music coming from the party. And when Lena speaks at last, it’s quiet. “I know my mom’s not the…easiest person,” she says. “And if pretending to be my girlfriend is going to make you uncomfortable because you have to deal with her, you don’t have to do it.”

“I’ve been dealing with your mother forever, Lena,” Kara says lightly. “She hasn’t been able to scare me off yet, for as much as she’s tried.”

Lena scoffs, but her hand is unmistakably tender as she fiddles with Kara’s shirt collar. “What happened to being serious?”

“I am serious! Do you or do you not remember that time we went to the water park? I swear she cut a hole in my water tube slide. And let’s not even bring up the whole prom incident, because I swear my hip has never been the same since falling out of your window.”

“She didn’t even know that was you.” Lena laughs, and it’s still somewhat hesitant, but just affectionate enough to reflect her feelings about that memory. “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

Kara inhales, shakily, both the sweet scent of Lena’s perfume and some much-needed air. “In a good way or a bad way?”

Lena presses her forehead into Kara’s jaw, her skin still cold enough that it makes Kara sympathetically squeeze her tighter. “Can you just promise to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable?” she asks, and ignores Kara’s question entirely. “Either with my mother, or…just the pretending part with me.”

“I feel plenty comfortable,” Kara tries, but Lena just reiterates,

“Promise me, Kara. I don't want to lose you.”

Something about the urgency in Lena's tone shifts the mood entirely; Kara swallows tightly and nods obligingly. “Okay. I promise. But you have to tell me, too, if anything becomes…I don't know, too much.”

“Fine,” Lena agrees readily.

“No, wait, but listen,” Kara presses. “Being friends is one thing, but dating is another, and—even if it's fake, we're going to have to do couple things. And I don't want it to ruin our friendship.”

“I also don't want to ruin our friendship,” Lena says. “Which is why I brought it up first.”

“Good. Okay. I just wanted to be sure.” Kara awkwardly shifts, all too aware that this might not be the ideal time and place for this conversation. Much less when Lena's still in her lap, clinging to Kara as if afraid to let go. “So on a scale of one to ten, how badly have I messed up the friendship by fighting Mike?”

Lema hums, considering. “That depends on what he said about me.”

“Um, nothing nice,” Kara says haltingly. “I'd rather not repeat it.”

“Then I'll let it slide…this once.” Lena's hands find their way up to Kara's face, fingertips gentle against the bruise on her jaw. “But you are still an idiot.” She thumbs warmly against the apple of Kara's cheek and gazes at Kara from underneath thick mascaraed eyelashes, then whispers, “And you're my favorite.”

“Your favorite idiot?”

“My favorite person.” Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Kara is sitting on Lena's bedroom floor still tugging at her tux because it itches. Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Lena is biting her lip and unable to catch Kara’s eye. Suddenly they’re seventeen again, and Lena is whispering I wanted you to make sure he didn’t kiss me because I want you to be my first kiss.

Kara blinks, mouth opening and closing for a pause, before she has to fall back on a safe feeling—fall right back to humor, so Lena does not comment on the way Kara’s body automatically tenses. “Aw, Lena,” she manages, “that sounded a lot like you like me.”

“I’m just a good actress,” Lena says mock-haughtily, but her eyes are searching as they lock onto Kara’s, expression softening the way no one else ever really sees. To the world she’s always been some cold, aloof superstar, but to Kara she will always be the best friend who wanted her first kiss to be with the person she trusted most in the world.

“Well for the record,” Kara swallows thickly, “you’re my favorite, too.”

There is a split second—a charged, electric second—where Kara swears Lena is going to kiss her. Her eyes are hooded like they’re about to close, and her face sways closer, her hand still resting on Kara’s bruised jaw. But then she sighs, and Kara can feel the distance before she sees it.

“We should go back inside,” Lena says, abruptly stumbling off of Kara's lap. “Sooner or later we'll have to do damage control.”

It takes a beat for Kara to catch up. “Right,” she says, hastening to button up her shirt and follow. “It wouldn't be a Luthor party without damage control.”

“It's the first time you're the cause, though,” Lena throws over her shoulder. “And don't forget your tie!”

“Got it,” Kara calls, undoing her tie entirely and tossing it into the bushes. “Hey, wait up! Come back and hold my hand.”

That makes Lena freeze in place. “What?”

“For—you know, the cameras,” Kara says, shrugging her suit jacket back on. “So we can show a united front.”

Lena gives her an inscrutable look. “You say the weirdest things sometimes,” she says, but she allows Kara to catch up and intertwine their hands together without further complaint. 

“How else is everyone supposed to know you're not mad at me?” Kara reminds her. “Or that I'm the best girlfriend you've ever had?”

“I doubt they're going to make that assumption based on hand holding.” But as they climb up the steps to rejoin the gala, the low, golden light illuminates that dimpled smile of Lena's that makes Kara breathless. “What makes you think you're the best, anyway?”

“Just a guess,” Kara says, squeezing Lena's hand as they reach the entrance. “Am I?”

“Let's see if you end tonight without any more fights first,” Lena quips, and while her voice is teasing, her smile grows exponentially tender. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Kara echoes quietly, and allows Lena to lead her right through those double doors knowing that she would follow Lena anywhere.

[non-un-topo]

could i please get some of nicky and joe dancing please <3?

You certainly can, my friend! <3

I may have accidentally made it a little angsty (and they look like they're not dancing rip but I promise they are)

[ravendruid]

Being playfully clingy in the mornings when one has an off day and the other has to rush to work

Saying "I Love You" without saying "I Love You" This is my first time writing Beauyasha. I felt like it would fit the prompt nicely. I hope you like it <3

Clingy Mornings

Beauregard feels the warmth of the morning summer sun on her naked skin before she even opens her eyes. She hates how her position at the Cobalt Soul forces her to enclose herself in the cold, dark, musty archive libraries when she could be sprawling out on the warm white sandy beaches of Nicodranas with her wife and her awfully cheerful friend Jester. Beau knows she has to get up soon to bathe herself and dress up in black and blues, to comb and tie her hair and adorn herself with the few jewelry pieces she actually cares for. She will wake up Yasha – never on purpose – who will busy herself in the kitchen preparing breakfast and if Beau is lucky and there is enough time, a nice hearty lunch for later. She will have to kiss her wife goodbye, lifting herself up on her tiptoes to reach her soft lips, and will leave in a rush because she’s late, as she always is nowadays. Beau knows the day will be spent with her nose in the god-forsaken books – oh, how ironic it is that she is the one doing this, while her bookworm friend is lecturing classes and living a more interesting life – and she will spend her short lunch hour gulping down whatever food she can muster to find. 

She drags on the time as much as she can, not wanting to leave the warm embrace of the bed and the soft snores of her wife. But when the sun finally disappears above the higher trim of their bedroom window, Beau knows it’s time. And she tries. Gods, does she try. As soon as Beau touches the sheet pooled at her hips, a strong, scarred arm locks itself around her torso and pulls her aggressively against the chest of the woman behind her. Beau chuckles. Her wife is many things: strong and scary but also kind and caring, and although she knows every trick in the book to ensure her prompt release, Beau simply does not employ them, opting to lean into the embrace.

“I have to go,” She is reluctant in her speech. She doesn’t have to go. She could stay. Fuck the archive. Fuck the books. Fuck everything but Yasha’s painful groan in her ear, reverberating through Beau’s entire body as her wife clings to her like a lifeline. “I really do,” She tries again. And again. And a third time, until, eventually, Yasha releases her grip on Beau.

The bath is rushed, the clothes are put on haphazardly, and the jewelry is almost forgotten on top of the dresser. Yasha pouts at Beau from the bed as she gets ready, and when the last piece of hair is carefully set in place, Yasha is behind her at the speed of light, her strong arms wrapping around Beau again. 

“Stay,” She pleads in her hoarse sleepy voice, the one that makes Beau’s toes curl every morning. On a different day, she might, but today she can’t, and she hates herself for denying her lover of her presence.

There is no time for breakfast – much less for lunch – as Beau tries to finish getting ready with her much taller wife attached to her. Yasha is always clingy in the mornings, but awfully so this morning, and Beau can’t figure out why. Did she forget a special date? Is it their anniversary? She really doesn’t have time to dwell on it. The sun is high in the sky already, and she should have been at work long ago. She will surely earn herself a scolding from her superior and probably have to work extra at the end of the day as she is punished with yet another pile of books. There is, however, time for a languid kiss and a promise of cuddles that night. 

Beau has to wrestle out of Yasha’s tight embrace – having no option but to resort to her well-known techniques – so she can finally leave for work. Running through the crowded streets of Zadash, she curses between her teeth as the looming building of the Cobalt Soul appears within view, dreading the day ahead of her. Beau should have stayed in bed. She should have given in to her wife’s wishes and stayed. Maybe tomorrow she will. Maybe tomorrow is the day she says fuck the books and gives Yasha her full, undivided attention.

[inafieldofdaisies]

💭 I’m dying to know Cal’s thoughts about Cooper

now, this would be in an AU where Sabrina and Savannah aren't staying at the ranch after the start of the Reaping.

we're going Goldilocks-esc hehe (totally blame Calahan for this parallel), with a side of destruction of property and other things. 🤷‍♀️ NSFW, kinda?

"Another one, gorgeous.", Calahan called out to Mary May, who was at the far end of the bar, speaking to a customer. That night, he found himself over John Seed's general existence and stifling presence in the region on an new level. She didn't make him wait long as she refilled his drink again, then asked, "Should I just leave you the whole bottle?" "Fuck. Might be a good idea. Thank you." Minutes passed where he searched for tranquility at the bottom of the glass, but that never came, his desire to cause destruction didn't die down. The Spead Eagle was more full than usual, but people kept their distance from him, sensing his sour mood. Must be something about my face. Or more likely his bloody knuckles after he had gotten carried away with another capture party sent his way. The bell above the bar's door signaled the arrival of a new patron, but he didn't bother to turn around. "A toast to you fuckers. Hope you ain't too hot down there.", he muttered out loud and raised his glass. At that exact moment, the empty seat next to him finally became occupied. A cowboy hat was placed down on the bar next to his hand. "What are we celebratin'?", the newcomer asked, which made Calahan's eyes shift to him. "The death of more of John's men.", he replied as he took in the blond guy he hadn't seen around the Valley before. "I'd drink to that. With pleasure.", the stranger smirked as he lifted a finger to Mary May in a sign he wants a drink. While he waited, he reached out a hand to Hartley, "Cooper McCoy. Howdy, Deputy?" Calahan grunted, letting Cooper's hand hang in the air, as he found himself dreading anyone's company. After a beat, the man took the hint, giving up on the handshake, but still smiling as he concluded, "Someone ain't in the mood tonight, huh?" Hartley took another swig, paying more attention to the liquor as it slid down his throat than to his words, hoping the newcomer would give up on socializing soon. "How about we make things fun?", Cooper broke the silence again, clearly set on turning him into his drinking buddy for some reason, "I sure can use it, you look like it, too." What the hell. I'd bite. "What do you have in mind?" "We hit John's ranch, heard he would be away tonight… why not have his blood pressure raise up a little when he returns?", Cooper quirked an eyebrow. "You're speaking my language now.", Calahan smiled at the idea, at endless possibilities the plan presented.

"Shall we then?", Cooper didn't wait for a reply, instead he put his hat back on and grabbed the bottle left at the bar and strode outside. "I'm heading out, gorgeous.", Hartley announced, and Mary May gave him a nod paired with "Stay safe." As he passed through the door and was hit by the night air that sobered him up, his eyes found Cooper standing by a pickup truck. The second he saw him, he climbed in the driver's seat, and Calahan wasted no time before he got in as well. He laughed internally at the thought of how Sabrina would warn him about going places with strangers he'd just met, but in the times of a war with a cult, you had to learn to lean on people. He couldn't deny he had a good feeling about McCoy as the man sped off towards John's ranch. Minutes later, they were breaking the side door's window of the bastard's house and letting themselves in. It didn't take long before the first floor was completely trashed. A record truly. "We're just getting started, Deputy.", Cooper cheered as he threw Joseph's portrait in the fireplace while Calahan took a swig from the bottle of liquor before passing it to him. "I'm heading upstairs, have been dying for a proper, uninterrupted shower." Hartley took the stairs two at a time as he heard more sounds of destruction coming from the living room and dark laughter. He checked each door until he found John's bedroom, taking his sweet time to rummage through every drawer for anything of interest before emptying out whatever he could on the floor. The bastard's clothes ended in a huge pile at his feet.

Should I burn them? Or throw them over the balcony? Nah. Focus. Shower first.

He marched over to the bathroom, eyeing the crimson bathrobe that hung on the door with disgust. For him, it was another symbol of John's hypocrisy. Living his best life while we're all fighting to stay alive. He striped off his clothes, jumping in the shower, reveling in the quiet and the feeling of the hot water against his tense muscles as it finally washed away the blood from his most recent fight. When he exited the stall, he grabbed the robe and put it on, then picked up his clothes on his way out. When he returned to the bedroom, Hartley found Cooper lounging at the edge of John's bed. "What are you up to, Goldilocks?" "It got boring without ya.", Cooper chuckled as his blue eyes ran over his body, "Damn, even his robe has their goddamned symbol?" "Yeah.", Calahan muttered as he lit a cigarette and made a move to grab the bottle from Cooper's outstretched hand, but the man had other ideas. He discarded it on the bed and rose up, coming closer to Hartley. His gaze was glued to his as he snatched the cigarette from his lips and took a generous pull from it. "Stealing my nicotine now, Cooper?", Calahan teased. "Want me to return it, Deputy?" Before he could remark anything about the strange suggestion, Cooper clashed his lips to his, blowing the smoke into his mouth before backing away with a satisfied smirk and passing back the cigarette. Now, that's a surprise. They stood with barely any distance between them, facing each other while Hartley smoked, Cooper's gaze darkening more and more as the cigarette shortened. "Up for some more fun?", he muttered as Calahan put it out finally, tossing the bud on the ground for John to find. His partner in crime's face revealed nothing of what he had in mind. "I'm listening." "Maybe we try that bed of his? Get rid of your bad mood completely… Been told I'm good at that." When Hartley didn't reply right away, uncertainty flashed in Cooper's eyes for a brief second. "Taking the Goldilocks role seriously, I see.", Calahan uttered out as his hand tangled in his blond locks, pulling him closer as he added, "Sounds like a plan." Their lips met in an actual kiss this time while Cooper's fingers undid the belt of the bathrobe and slipped underneath the material as Hartley asked, "You gonna put that hat back on for me or?"

Prompt: Send 💭 to hear my OCs most recent thought about your OC.

[aurore-parle-de-ses-idees]

or 25 with Est + ????

(this is one, incredibly short, and two, entirely out of left field for & to me (i know i say this more than is reasonable but.) idk why exactly it just. Decided. that this is where this one was gonna go at ~2am a few days ago, but it sure did, so i scraped some things together when i had downtime lol. i don't necessarily plan to expand it atm, but! we'll see. anyway, pacrim-lotro fusion lmao)

“Sparkstone, prepare for drop,” Silmeniel’s voice says, tinny through the speakers.

“Sparkstone ready to drop,” Esterín calls back. The segmented Jaeger armor flexes familiarly around her, Sparkstone’s heart thrumming nearly loud enough to drown out their helmet comms.

“Ready to initiate Drift,” Corunir says beside her.

“Neural handshake initiated.” Esterín closes her eyes. 

The lake gleams in the twilight. Her older sibling teaches her to weave hats from reeds. The refuge burns. And then she is no longer alone in the Drift. Dol Halcalan smells sweet in the summertime. His mother laughs, though not unkindly. “You worry enough for all of us." The Watchers stand guard over the swamp.

She arrives in the village late at night and approaches a stranger. He tells the whole sorry story to someone he does not know. "My captain is on the other side," he says. "I know… I know you only just met me. You have no reason to believe me, much less trust me, but please-" "I will help you." It was years before they stepped into a Jaeger together, but it began there.

"Neural bridge stable. Calibration complete," Silmeniel says. "Imroval will join you soon, Sparkstone. Category Three Kaiju, codename Blind-strider, three miles south of your position."

"Understood," Corunir says. "We're on our way."

It’s old habit, now, to march into the sea, minds brushing as they step in sync towards the great Nameless thing rising from the dark waters. Esterín raises the shock-canon in Sparkstone’s left arm and Corunir raises the right, ready to extend the blade when Blind-strider draws near.

[terrainofheartfelt]

21 for any ship that it fits ❤️

I'll be real, I was stumped on who to write until today and it just CAME to me :)

warning: references to past self-harm / suicide attempt

Eric/Jonathan + 21 …on a place of insecurity.

“Nervous?” Jonathan’s voice hits his ear a split second before Eric sees him approach through the mirror. 

“Um –” Eric glances down catching himself scratching at the scars on his left wrist, like they were erasable. He does that sometimes. Which Jonathan knows, because he knows him. Even the graceless, twisted, darkened parts of him. Knows and loves anyway.

“A little,” he admits, turning away from the full length closet mirror to face Jonathan. “You know how it is. Whenever my mom and all my siblings get in one room there’s a thirty-five percent chance of bloodshed.” 

“I seriously regret ever doing that math for you,” Jonathan mutters, taking Eric’s left wrist in his hands, doing up the cuff Eric got too lost in thought to finish. 

“Because you know it’s true.” 

Purely by Eric’s ability to get along with everyone, he often finds himself in the middle of one family feud or another. It used to just be Mom and Serena, but as their family’s expanded, so has the potential for beefs. Jenny and Serena, Dan and Serena.  Lily and Jenny, Rufus and Dan (and vice versa). Hell, when Blair married into the family that upped the quotient even more. Eric should know. His fiance has a PhD from MIT. 

“Hey,” Jonathan says softly, still holding his hand. “This is our engagement party, and if any of your sisters try to cause trouble, I will pull a full groomzilla and remind them that this is our night.”

Eric’s mouth curls up into a smile. He can’t help it these days. He’s so happy. Happy in a way he used to believe he never could be. “Thank you.”

Jonathan presses a kiss to his wrist, right over the spot Eric was scratching at minutes ago. “You’re welcome.”

[faereun]

gorin brings shadowheart tea in the morning . / @entwinesfate

a large hand suddenly floods her vision, blocking out the glaringly bright light of the morning sun. a teacup is placed in front of the cleric,   almost  comically  dainty   in the grasp of her … sizeable companion. shadowheart is a touch puzzled for a moment, sleep - addled brain still not quite awake, though perhaps it is more that she cannot comprehend this simple act of kindness  —  so unexpected yet   SO  DELIGHTFULLY  QUAINT   . her memories are lost to her, mind a confounding swirl of [ darkness and loss , ] alas, she suspects it has been a long while since someone had shown her such a simple, but thoughtful,   gesture  of  goodwill   . 

her lips curl into an uncharacteristic smile , one that is neither sardonic nor snide, as she brings the fragrant beverage to her lips. she doesn't wait for it to cool before she takes a sip, the tea on the cusp of too - hot as it burns against her taste buds and slides down her throat  —  she's been taught to   RELISH THE PAIN   , every drop of blood or   [ open  wound  an  offering ]   to her dark lady.   'thank you, gorin. where did you find such a fine blend? looting goblin corpses, maybe?'   she ponders in a poor attempt at a joke, aiming to conceal   the  slight  wince   as her tongue throbs, palate stings.  

'though i can't say i would've done the same for you. lady shar isn't exactly known for her benevolence, after all,'   and there is   AN  UNSPOKEN  WARNING   in her words: stop trying to get close. stop trying to breach my walls. i cannot promise you the same compassion that you have shown me. even at the mere thought, the wound on her hand begins to tingle.

[tetsumie]

heyy when you have the time to do so, can i request college!suna x reader angst to fluff where reader tries to spend time with suna but they get into an argument where he decides to spend time with his athlete friend group but then feels guilty and make up with reader through heart to heart conversation? 🫶🏻sorry if this is so long i have no idea how to make the prompt shorter but honestly i love all the fics you post so idc if you change it up a bit just thought i’d give an idea

𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

pairing: suna rintaro x gen!neutral reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: you confront him about the growing distance in your relationship, something he's been dismissing for a while, until he finally grasps the seriousness of the situation

cw: suna is a bit harsh; arguments but they make up <3

a/n: hihi anon! ty for requesting and i hope it's to your liking :D i'm still accepting requests for my 1k event so feel free to send more into my inbox!

"it's like i never see you anymore!"

suna and you have been in this back and forth argument for what felt like an eternity and it's draining the life out of you.

suna has been preoccupied with the upcoming inter-collegiate volleyball tournament. as a starter on the prestigious division 1 ejp raijin volleyball team, the arduous practices and pressure have been taking a heavier toll than expected on him.

as a result of this, suna has been incredibly distant in your relationship. he was always gone before you woke up in the morning and didn't return until after you fell asleep. every time you tried to plan a date or suggest something to do together, he somehow always cancels. it's always, "sorry i have to run some extra drills. maybe another day?"

it's exhausting putting this much effort into your relationship when it all seems in vain.

you've tried bringing this up to suna before, mentioning how you would like to spend more time together. but suna, being suna, always brushed it off. but there's only so much dismissal you can take.

you really miss your boyfriend.

but you're not sure he misses you the way you miss him.

"y/n you can't expect me to drop everything for you! like fuck, i have a life outside of you," he exclaims, snapping you back to the current argument at hand.

"i didn't say that, rin."

"that's what you're trying to say," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

you shake you head, lowering your voice. "i know volleyball always has and always will be a top priority for you but i just wish... well, it would be nice if you could put a bit of effort into our relationship."

"what if i don't even want to anymore..." he mumbles under his breath as he walks to the closet, grabbing a coat.

the rage in your heart and mind now simmer down to a feeling of dread and heartbreak. what?

as he turns around, he sends an icy glare at you. you've never seen this side of him and you refuse to let him see you crumble apart in front of him. you refuse to break down right now.

"you don't want to what, suna?" you look at him, tone icy cold. "go on. tell me."

the heated environment is making his mind all cloudy and he wants to end this conversation now.

"you know what i mean, y/n. i'm going out. don't call me."

the door opens and slams shut.

the moment the door closes, you're completely still. you're running on autopilot. you find yourself making a cup of tea and sitting at the dining table, looking at the empty, lifeless apartment sprawled in front of you.

subconsciously, the tears started to roll. i guess that's it then. i think i better start packing my things. i should be gone by the time he comes back home.

meanwhile, suna makes his way downtown to the bar where some of his volleyball friends had invited him out for a couple drinks. he opens the door to the bar and he can hear the familiar rowdiness of his friends.

"well, well, well, if it ain't the infamous sunarin from ejp," a familiar blonde comes running to him. "been too long since i've seen ya stupid ass."

"yeah yeah whatever asshole," suna slaps the back of atsumu and nods over at osamu who's sitting on the table. "it's good to see you both."

as suna and atsumu head to the table in the back with the rest of his friends, his mind can't help but linger back to the argument that he had with you. but he decides to shake his mind off it.

he's here to have fun with his friends right now. not be worried about you.

"you didn't bring y/n tonight?" komori, suna's teammate, asks. "i haven't seen them in a hot minute. what've they been up to?"

what have you been up to? he doesn’t know. when was the last time we both had an actual conversation? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t even know what's been going on in your life lately. fuck this is what y/n meant.

he forces a smile, masking the bitter thoughts playing in his mind. "they're good. just doing their classes and stuff."

"ah right, well bring them by sometime! it's been too long since i've seen them. they never fail to light up the room with their presence."

"yeah you're right."

he nods, taking small sips from the beer in front of him.

as the conversation and chaos ensue among his friends, his mind keeps drifting back to the memories of the argument he walked out on. his mind has cooled off and a sense of guilt starts to take over his body.

here he is having fun with his friends while you're at home all alone, waiting for him. you just wanted to spend time with him and here he was, finding comfort in other people other than you.

he tries to remember the last time you both had gone out together but he's drawing a complete blank. he can't even remember the last time he's kissed you or held you in his hands.

no wonder you've been feeling so lonely.

and in response, he just kept brushing you off until you blew up today. and to make matters worse, he walked out of the argument giving you no sense of reassurance or closure on the matter.

at the realization, suna shoots up out of his seat with flushed cheeks. the group turns to him.

"i gotta head out for the night. i gotta see my baby."

"get a fuckin' room sunarin," osamu shouts. the rest of the groups howls in agreement. "see ya."

he waves goodbye and starts trudging his way back to the shared apartment. he expects to find you asleep so he can crawl into bed with you and cuddle, never intending on letting you go.

so you can imagine the surprise when he opens the door and sees the bedroom light on and hears rustling noises. "baby?" he calls out. "y/n?"

he takes off his shoes and coat and walks to the bedroom. he starts to internally panic at the sight in front of him.

you have a couple of suitcases out filled with your clothes and belongings. at a glance, he can see that your side of the closet is almost empty. you've even taken down a couple of the decor pieces in the room that you bought but he was never particularly interested in. with your headphones in, you’re focused on packing, but what breaks him the most is seeing you wipe your eyes as you do so. why are you even packing? where are you going?

and then it hits him.

not only did he make it seem like he didn’t want to make this relationship work, but his actions have been driving you away. fuck, this was bad. he didn't mean any of it. he has to fix it or he's gonna lose the best thing in his life for good.

he goes over to you and taps your shorted and you yelp, startled by the 6'2" man, hovering above you.

"what the hell are you doing?" suna asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

you wipe your eyes. "i'm leaving."

"don't be ridiculous," he scoffs.

"ridiculous?" you laugh at the absurdity of his comment. "what's ridiculous is how you walk out of an argument not even wanting to work things out. what's ridiculous is how you just continue to put me aside like i’m some side piece."

he knows you’re hurting. and it’s all his fault.

he doesn’t know how to properly express everything he needs to say to you.

so in the heat of it all, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and kisses you.

you'd forgotten this feeling. his soft lips on yours and how they fit together just right. it's the softest kiss he's ever given to you and your heart swells at the gesture.

you pull away and you plop yourself on the floor to process what just happened.

right there and then, he looks at you. he really looks at you. he notices the way you have some baby hairs popping out and your cheeks feel warm from all that crying. he notices the way your eyes look slightly puffed out and the remnants of tears on your cheeks.

i'm the cause of this. this is all my fault.

"i’m sorry," he begins.

you sigh and look away mumbling to yourself. "you’ve said that before. it doesn’t change anything."

"and you’re right."

you look up at him, surprised by his admission. "w-what?"

"you’re absolutely right, y/n."

he crouches down to your level, resting his hand on your knee so he can look you in the eye.

"i shouldn't have made it seem i wasn't willing to put in the effort into making us work," he says, gesturing between you and him. "my actions and what i said to you a couple hours ago obviously made it seem that way and i'm an absolute dumbass for not picking up on it."

you’re silent. he searches your face, looking for any speck of emotion, but he still can’t read you. in the amount of time he's known you, you’ve always been the exception.

"i've been swamped with so much work lately and i know i need to do better. i spread myself so thin that i forgot to prioritize the things and the people that matter the most to me."

you're silent, unsure of what to say to him.

"i thought i was doing the best i could do until i realized i could be doing so much more for us and for you. i'm so sorry for not being here."

"i know rin," you whisper. finally, for the first time you look up from your lap to look at him. "it just felt like you didn't care about us anymore. you're the hardest worker i know but i just wish you were here sometimes."

"and i wouldn't be able to be that hard worker without your love and support, you know," his hand cups your cheek as he runs his thumb across the tear streaks on your face.

"i realize how absent i’ve been in our relationship lately and i can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been feeling. i want to make this relationship work with you. i know i suck at being sappy and shit but you really are my other half. no matter what it takes, i’ll make us work. i’ll fight for this relationship. i'll fight for us."

"oh, rin," you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in close for a hug. the tears begin to flow from your eyes.

he feels his eyes glaze over. he breathes in your familiar scent and feels a warmth he’s missed.

even after everything, you still love him.

he starts with a gentle kiss on your cheek, then starts peppering your face with soft kisses.

you let out a watery chuckle, making his heart skip a beat. he hasn't heard your laugh in forever and he swears to himself to never be the reason for your tears again.

"let's go to bed now baby. i've gotta cuddle away all the pain i've caused you."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[mrshowlettsgarden]

Prompt number 7 with Logan 🫢

─➭ a/n: ooo, this is a good pick! I also apologize for the week delay; work was kicking my ass. but thank you for the request. I hope you enjoy; this is a long one - kaya <3 (prompt list)

We're Just Friends? - Logan Howlett: the one when you realized it meant more to him that you assumed

─➭ pairing: Logan Howlett x professor!fem!reader

─➭ prompt #7: "Why did you leave me like that back there?" "Because." "Because, what?" "Because your dumbass can't figure out how much it hurts me when you say that we're "just friends."

─➭ content warning: hurt/comfort, miscommunication, friends to lover's trope, suggestive in the end

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It’s Charles' birthday party tonight that Jean and Storm decided to throw for him at the mansion. All the adults were to attend the black-tie shindig along with invited colleagues and so on. 

You were excited to have something to dress up for and eat some fancy food unlike the brute man pouting as he leans against your bathroom door. 

“I put on the suit that should be enough,” Logan sasses to you, “I ain’t putting on the damn bowtie.”

You roll your eyes as you put the cap back on your lipstick with an aggressive sigh, “Don’t be such a diva, Logan. Wear the bowtie.”

You get goosebumps seeing the dirtiest look he’s ever given to you through the mirror. You’re also fighting for your life to not break out into a fit of laughs. “The fuck did you call me?” he snaps. 

You couldn’t hold the laugh any longer and it slips from your lips as the dirty look turns into a pout on his face. Ignoring his question, you walk towards him and grab the bowtie from his hand. Logan has to fight to keep a straight face as your pretty self, inches closer with another step. If he could, he’d pull you in by the waist and take your lipstick off with a kiss. 

“It’s for one night. One night only,” you say with pleading eyes, “And women love a bowtie on a man so who knows who you might pull into your bed tonight,” you joke with a smile and wiggling eyebrows. 

Logan’s jaw clenches at your words. The only woman he wants to pull tonight is you but he doesn’t think you’d like that, so he shakes the thought away even though it hurts to do so.

You on the other hand wanted to slap yourself in the face for saying that because you just hurt your own feelings. You really don’t want to see Logan and a woman - who isn’t you - clinging to his arm at the end of tonight. Maybe you said that as foreshadowing to help prepare you for the moment that will eventually happen. But you ignore the pang in your heart. 

Logan scoffs aggressively as he takes the bowtie back from you and begins tying it himself while looking at the mirror, “Yeah, because that’s the goal I had for myself leading up to tonight,” he says sarcastically while you give him a look of smugness as you watch him finish the tie. 

“You look good though,” you say with a small smile as you adjust the tie a little bit. 

Logan looks back down to you with a tight-lipped smile. “You look good too, darlin,” he says back in a gentle tone.

And good is an understatement when it comes to you because you look so goddamn breathtaking. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you before today and now he thinks his greatest battle is to not admire you in your dress tonight. 

A black form-fitting dress is criminal to wear in front of him because this is his first time seeing the shape of your body and it makes him want to see more for his eyes only. Your heels give you extra height, but you still can’t reach up to him and he finds it endearing. 

Why do you have to be so beautiful…

You see him in a daze as he looks at you and you almost think it’s longing. But that's just a wish you have. “Logan? Are you still there?’ you say with a wave to bring him back down to earth. 

Logan smiles as he nods, “Where else would I be, huh?” he asks. 

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The party started hours ago and it’s still growing strong. 

Everyone is laughing, mingling, and dancing the night away. You say it's almost peaceful seeing everyone letting loose from the stress that has been filling up their lives. Everyone, including yourself, needed this. Everyone except Logan.

Such a party pooper… 

You walk up to him as he takes a swig of his drink. He looks up at you with a questioning look, expecting you to say whatever it is that’s on your mind. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you get up once other than for a drink,” you say knowingly.

Logan sighs, “At least, I got up instead waving down one of the servers.”

You groan at his words before walking around the table and pulling him up by his arm. “At least be polite and make your rounds to everyone,” you complain, “Then you can sit back down.”

Logan almost laughs at your miserable attempt to get him out of the comfort of his seat. But to save you from the embarrassment of falling on your ass, he sighs and gets up. “Only if you stay with me. We’re both suffering together,” he says almost pridefully as he moves your hand to wrap around his arm. 

Your face turns into a heater feeling his muscles along the expanse of his arms. You could only imagine how safe you’d feel having both arms wrapped around your body securely. At least you can bask in the moment a little longer before it gets taken away.

You stay on Logan’s arm as you both say your hellos and how are you’s. You can’t deny that it feels good to have him this close to you. And he can’t deny how comforting it is to be under your touch. He hasn't felt this relaxed in years. The more time he spends having you hold onto him like this only hurts him a lot more. Because the moment gets taken away every single time, he hears you say “we’re just friends” in nearly every conversation. 

“Oh no! We just came here as friends!”

“You’re too funny! We’re just friends.”

And he swore he heard somebody comment about how he’s like a fucking brother to you??

Now that one really started to boil his blood. 

Yes, you are friends. Best friends if anything but it will never hurt less to hear you say those three words. Those words are like that one annoying tune that is stuck on replay all night. Every person or group of people you both have gone up to have made comments or asked questions if you guys came to the party together. And just like the first time you were asked up till the last time, you were way too quick to shoot them down with “we're just friends”. 

After all the last couple of years since he’s been around you hopelessly thinking you’d catch onto his longing stares, lingering touches, and being by your side during missions, he thought eventually you’ll get the hint. Tonight is showing him that you won’t ever reciprocate his feelings back. He’s been shot, stabbed and you can name the rest, but this emotional pain is burning at him from the inside and out. He’s starting not to be able to take your stinging words any longer. 

Finally, all the rounds were made when you both made your way to Jean and Storm sitting at one of the tables. “I didn’t think you were actually able to get him out of that chair, Y/n,” Jean laughs.

“You made him into a social butterfly,” Storm snickers as Logan pulls out one of the chairs for you.  

You giggle at their comments while Logan scoffed out a “whatever” and looked away from you three as he took a seat. He can feel his hurt turning to anger right now and he’s trying really hard not to show it. He gently removes your arm from his as he waves a server down for a drink. Sensing something is off you’re about to ask him if he’s okay, but Storm beats you from talking. 

“You guys looked good out there though. Like a cute married couple,” she smiles as Jean nodded in agreement.

If only they and Logan knew how much you don’t oppose the idea of being married to him, but you could only laugh it off. That’s what you’ve been doing nearly all night as you and Logan made the rounds. You don’t think you’ve ever sounded like a broken record player having to repeat that you guys are purely platonic. You were just hoping that Logan wouldn’t start causing a scene when you heard him nearly growl every time you started talking. He seemed so tense too, more than usual but you thought it was because you were dragging him around to talk to people he wasn’t interested in. 

Which is why you would turn down the comments about you and Logan dating because you didn’t think that he’d enjoy that type of conversation about you but boy, were you so wrong. 

“Please, don’t make me repeat it again,” you playfully groan out with a laugh, “I don’t know how much I can take having to explain that I won’t ever see Logan that way-”

SLAM!!

You and the girls jump from the startling sound of Logan slamming his drink on the table then watch him storming off his chair and into the mansion. Stunned by his actions you look down at the glass and see that it had cracked from the force then look back at him walking away. You go after Logan without thinking, “I’ll go check on him,” you say as you speed off your chair in worried haste. 

Where did that come from? And why is he walking away so fast? He’s already made it inside the house in less than thirty seconds. Your feet hurt enough already from the heels, but you caught up to him as he was about to make his way upstairs.

“Logan!” you call as you pick up your pace a little more, but he ignores you, “Ugh! Logan!”

“What?” he snapped at you with a venomous tone.

You nearly cower at his nasty attitude towards you. He’s never talked to you like that before and you begin to feel uneasy about being the target of his rage. "What’s wrong? Why did you leave like that?” you ask as you follow him up the stairs. You're only two steps behind him.

“Because.” he continues walking with bigger strides.

“Because??” you repeat. You’re starting to get irritated with his attitude, “Because, what? Logan would you please slow dow-”

“Because I can’t fucking stand that your dumbass can't figure out how much it hurts me when you say that we're "just friends!!” he yells as he turns around to give you his full rage.

You stood there frozen and stunned by his words and also at the fact that he yelled at you louder this time too. You feel yourself start to shrink from his voice. You couldn’t think to get a word in before he interrupted you once more.

“How much longer should I have to deal with the fact that you only see me as your friend and nothing more, Y/n! You’re walkin’ around telling people down there that I’m only your friend and you were just telling Storm and Jean that you won’t ever see me more than that!” he shouts at you with a face full of hurt and anger, “Why haven’t you realized that I love you. That I’ve been in love with you. Y/n!”

Your heart stopped for a second hearing him say that. There are too many whirlwinds of emotions going on right now. It’s hard for you to fully grasp the fact that he just confessed to you. Logan Howlett confessed to you. Looking at him you realize that maybe he’s also realizing that he confessed too with how his eyes widened. 

You both stand there on the staircase in ear piercing silence as Logan pants from his rage. He rips his eyes off of you as he runs a hand down his face in stress. He looks so hurt right now. Your eyes are beginning to tear up from being the reason why he’s so hurt. But he needs to know that you feel the same way. 

After a minute of silence and trying to find your words, you softly but hesitantly speak up. “Logan…,” you shakingly call his name as you step forward. You’re about to reach for his hand but he steps back away from you.

“No,” he interrupted you while shaking his head. He doesn’t want to hear your rejection right now. He’s so angry at himself for letting his feelings for you drag on for this long. And he confessed to you in a way he never imagined he would. “Just forget I said anything. I’m done.”

Done…?

With that he storms off again much faster than before up to his room. Leaving you behind to swallow his words more. He loves you. How could that be? You swore he felt the complete opposite after all this time. He said he was done too. Done with you? 

While his words were finally settling in, you didn’t realize the tears had fallen down your cheeks. He loves you and then tells you he’s done. After all this time you thought he couldn’t see you that way, especially when he first arrived, he had a thing for Jean. But now, after his days of visiting you in the greenhouse, waiting for you in the hallway to get coffee in the mornings, and so much more… You’ve blind to his advancements. Even the way he talks to you is different from how he usually is and you didn’t realize that till he started yelling at you five minutes ago. 

You let out a shaky sigh to stop the sobs from slipping. 

God, you feel so stupid. 

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It’s been a couple weeks since the party and the last time you saw, let alone talked to Logan. 

You’ve never felt so lonely in the greenhouse by yourself and not having him there listening to you rant about whatever plant or lecture you need to get off your chest. You miss feeling his presence around you - the smell of his cigar, his teasing, his oddly comforting words that he held only for you… You miss him so much, but he wants nothing to do with you anymore.

The morning after the party you waited for him in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, but he never came. You tried knocking on his door a couple times after that when you wouldn’t see him but no answer. You knew he was in there counting from the energy you feel from the plant you jokingly gave him as a present, but you didn’t want to push him more. You also never failed to notice the way he would avoid you around the mansion. While the home was huge, you still saw him from a far and he’d walk away after your first glance in his direction. 

So, you gave him what he wanted. Space. 

And here you are sitting on one of the lounge chairs in the greenhouse at two in the morning. You couldn’t sleep or you haven’t been able to sleep without hearing Logan’s loud voice repeating his words in your head. The only thing that’s soothing you is the soft sound of the fountain that you’re sitting in front of. You stare at the lily pads floating in the water as you keep blinking back to that night Logan confessed. Would you call it a confession if he did it angrily? If he only would’ve stayed for thirty seconds longer, he would know that you love him too. 

Logan was sitting in the kitchen nursing on a bottle of soda since the damn house doesn’t have any beer or form of alcohol. God, he could use several of them right now to get what happened out of his head. He let his hurt turn into anger when he yelled out his love for you. He’s never felt so embarrassed doing that especially after seeing the look of shock and hurt on your face too. 

He just couldn’t stop the wave of emotions leaving his mouth in the form of words. He needed to get it off his chest after the number of times he was friend-zoned by you in one night. After he ditched you on the stairs to go into his room, he’ll admit that he felt a little lighter knowing that he finally told you how he feels but the weight came back when he started avoiding you. 

With how hard you were trying to get him to talk to you it just made him feel worse. Yes, he’s choosing to avoid you, but it doesn’t hurt him any less. He’d do anything to talk to you again, but he thinks nothing will be the same anymore, hence the reason for avoiding you. Again, he’s also embarrassed for throwing a tantrum on the stairs as he angrily declared his love for you. 

He still can’t believe he did that…

Logan frustratingly sighs as he chugs the rest of his drink as he gets up from his sitting. Maybe a walk will help. He needs to shake his feelings off and deal with the fact that he can’t come back from his confession. 

He zips his jacket up from the chill of the night as he steps out into the backyard and begins his walk. 

Nothing is heard other than silence as he furthers into the yard. He begins to get lost in thought as you come back into his mind. The way you looked scared from his rising voice to the sudden look of surprise when he said he loved you. Fuck, he still loves you despite the fact he hasn’t seen much of you the last two weeks. He misses you a lot.

“Damnit,” he mutters under his breath as he irritatedly kicks a pinecone out of his way.

 Logan continues to walk with no destination until he suddenly stops in his tracks to see the lights on in the greenhouse. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion because he knows how late it is and he knows you’re in there by yourself. But why are you in there and how long have you been in there? He ponders for a bit as he stares at the warm lights illuminating the glass walls. 

He stands there for a minute or two longer then makes his way to the double doors of the greenhouse. Usually when he or anyone walks up, you’d feel their presence and have the plants open the doors, but nothing happens. He looks around at the plants that surround the door to see if any of them move. But nothing, they’re still. He doesn’t sense any danger, but something is definitely off. 

He opens the doors without thinking and walks inside to find you. 

It’s eerily quiet inside as he walks around. He sniffs the air to smell for you and walks over to one of the fountains to where it leads to you. Your head is peeking out from the other side of the lounge chair, but you still haven't moved. He carefully walks around to find you curled up against the armrest sleeping. You look cozy and at peace if he wouldn’t have noticed the dry tear marks along your cheeks. 

His face turns into a look of regret instantly. Avoiding you was just him hurting both of your feelings with no end goal behind it. He was beginning to feel stupid and childish about this whole ordeal. How he feels about you shouldn’t be the end of the bond that you guys already had with each other. 

Besides tear marks, Logan also noticed the bags under your eyes as he kneeled down to be face to face with you. He sighs softly and brings the back of his hand to gently wipe the tear marks off your face. Your cheeks feel cold to the touch. You should be asleep in the comfort of your bed right now where it's warmer. So, Logan sucks up his feelings to wake you up.

The hand that was on your cheek moves down to your arm and starts to soothingly rub your arm up and down. “Y/n,” he whispers, “Wake up.”

You barely stir and it makes him want to laugh because you're such a heavy sleeper. So, he moves you a bit more and your eyebrows begin to furrow in irritation. For once you were sleeping somewhat well and you’re being woken up. You hear Logan’s voice, but you think it's just a dream until you hear him clearer the more you wake up. 

“Logan?’ you murmured as your eyes began to open.

“Yeah, darlin’, it’s me,” he whispers back to you, “Let's get you back to bed.”

You lock eyes with his soft gaze, and you’ve never felt more relieved to see and feel him this close to him. You sit up instantly, “Hi…” you say to him.

He smiles softly a stary strand of hair away from your face, “Hey… You shouldn’t be sleeping here alone, you know.”

You nodded as you rub the sleepiness away from your eyes as you look away from him. “I haven’t been able to sleep,” you said. Logan hums in response and silence settles for a moment between you two. You bite your bottom lip nervously as you start to think of what to say but you cower from the thought thinking that he won’t listen to you like before. You move your eyes to look at him, but you realize that he was still looking at you.

Logan couldn’t take his eyes off of you since he found you asleep. It feels like he hasn’t seen you for months to almost a lifetime. If you only knew how much you have molded yourself into his mind since day one. He sees how nervous you are right now from the way you’re looking back at him. He’s about to apologize for his outburst but you beat him to it. 

“I love you, Logan.”

Wait what?

A look of shock was thrown onto his face, but you interrupted him again. “I-If you would have stayed longer, I would’ve had the chance to say it back to you,” you stammer softly, “And I’m so sorry for hurting your feelings during the party. I swear, I-I thought that I was saving you from the conversations that I had dragged you to. I’m so sorry.”

You feel the tears fall again with how fast your eyes are building them up. You missed him too much and he needs to know this time that you've always felt the same way. You’re about to continue apologizing but Logan cups one of your cheeks with his warm hand. You feel his thumb wipe a tear and it makes you hold his hand with yours while you nuzzle your cheek further into his touch. 

"I missed you, Logan...," you shakingly sigh out.

"I missed you too, darlin'"

Relieved tears fell while Logan came closer to rest his forehead against yours. You feel so comforted to have him this close again. You run your hand up his chest to lure him closer. 

“I’m sorry too,” he sighs under your touch, “I was mad at myself and took it out on you. I didn’t mean to scare you either. I…I love you so much.”

You feel his lips brush so lightly against yours, it makes you pull away slightly to look back at him again. You don't think words can describe how much you need him impossibly close to you right now, it's making you needy for him. Your eyes move down to his lips then back up to his hazel ones.

“Kiss me, Lo-”

You didn’t have to finish the damn sentence because his lips met yours in an instant. Like hell he was going to walk away again now. A warm feeling blossoms in your chest as he pulls you closer to him with both of his arms around you to make you wrap your legs around his waist. Logan nearly groans, feeling you pressed against his body. The smell of the soft eucalyptus scent of your conditioner was making him dizzy but only made him crave for you more. 

You feel him pull you toward him more before getting up from his kneeled position near fluently with you in his arms. You gasped out a laugh at his brute strength and he smirked smugly.

“Show off…,” you say blissfully.

Logan chuckles as goes back in for another kiss, “You’ll learn to love it, sweetheart.”

You smile as you shyly bite your lips hearing him call you that. You couldn’t help yourself and went in for another kiss. Your bodies heatedly pressed together as you cupped both sides of his cheeks making him part his lips just enough for you to slip your tongue inside his mouth. Logan didn’t stop himself from sinking into your embrace despite holding you in his arms. 

You both lose your thoughts, getting lost into the comfort of the kiss. It felt so natural to have each other this close and it makes you wonder why it took so long for you both to get to this moment. And neither of you were planning on stopping it. You want more of him and he wants more of you. The ache you feel in your core is calling for more of his touch. 

You force yourself to pull away and you feel him chase after your lips. “Fuck, baby. Why’da stop?’ you can hear how desperate he is for you right now and it and it makes you smile.

“Take me to bed Lo…,” you whisper against his lips, “I need to feel more of you.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice because he instantly tossed you over his shoulder making you squeal out a laugh.

“Let’s go then, pretty girl.”

●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘●

[blackjackkent]

“rampage” for the one-word prompts?

(Send me a number and I’ll write a micro story using the word or phrase)

-----

Everyone (except Lae'zel) is thrilled about the owlbear cub's arrival in camp. Even Rakha, submerged in dark thoughts as she often is, relaxes a little and watches with attentive interest when he wanders across her path in the waning evening. 

“Fantastic,” Karlach says cheerfully, building up a bed for him in a corner of the camp near where Scratch usually sleeps. “He's fucking adorable, look at him. This is the best thing that's happened to us so far.”

No one thinks, that first night, to hoist the camp supplies out of reach. 

“Holy fuck,” Karlach says, considerably less cheerfully, the next morning. 

The camp is in ruins. The cub, in frantic excitement, ripped open both camp food bags and has strewn every supply pack across the ground in an ecstatic rampage. Everything plant-based lies in the mud with bites out of it; the supply of jerky and fresh meat is completely gone. 

Amid the chaos, the cub lies on his back, his belly rounded from his feast, sleeping the sleep of the deeply contented. Scratch is perched on top of a nearby rock, chewing through a leftover chain of sausage links and looking rather smug. 

“Hells,” Wyll says, rubbing the back of his neck. “What a mess.”

Rakha, joining them, surveys the scene gravely. For a long, long moment, there is a dismayed silence. 

Then, astonishingly, Rakha smiles faintly. “The cub, I see, shows its own dark urge that comes by night.”

Wyll chokes on a sudden laugh and Karlach snickers. “What, you with the jokes?” she says teasingly. “This day really is starting off with a bang.” 

[bbokicidal]

Hihi congratulations on 1k! Lixie family prompt 3 and 6 please omg I'd die for that cute sight 🥺

Oh, goodness. Ty also!! I really appreciate it n I love seeing u in my notifs all the time!!

Family Prompts #3 & #6 : Having Triplets + Reacting to their Firsts - Lee Felix

Felix... oh, Felix.

Man is STRESSED the second he finds out you're having three babies at once. Buuuut, he's also so, so excited!!!! He's going to spoil the shit out of these babies and if you think otherwise, you're absolutely wrong.

He's doing everything he can during the pregnancy process. Finding a place for you two with a massive room for a nursery - painting that nursery, decorating it with you with pinks, blues, and yellows. I cannot put into words how absolutely excited he is to have three babies with you.

He's also the type to kiss your tummy at every given point he can. He'll sit behind you and hold up your bump every evening for some time so you can relax with the weight off of your back, massage your shoulders for you - keep you as relaxed as possible.

He will do his absolute best to do everything he can for the babies once they're born. Waking up with you to watch what you do when they get fussy, rocking them to sleep when you're too tired to do so, feeding them bottles and changing them so carefully that they fall asleep on the changing table in his gentle hold.

(Before you ask - Yes. They all have his freckles.)

And as they get older, he'll freak out about every thing they do. Especially when one of your daughter's first words is during a little interview where he introduces them to his group members - and the word she says is '아저씨 [Ajussi/Uncle]' to Chan because she remembers him from photos you've shown her.

He'll bawl when he sees them all curled up with their uncles, too. All the little girls just balled up in their arms, one sleeping on Changbin's tummy and chest, one drooling on Jeongin's arm as he holds her, and one clinging to Jisung in her sleep while he sleeps beneath her on the floor.

The first time he brings them with him to work because you're out of town with your family, he cries at that, too. He sniffles a little seeing them now old enough to run around with the others, Jeongin and Seungmin chasing two of them down while the third is entertained by Minho and Hyunjin painting her nails and blowing on them.

And the first time he plays dress up with them, he knows this is all he's ever wanted in life. He fills truly fulfilled - Having his dream career with his best friends, being married to an amazing woman and having three beautiful daughters with her...

[sugawhaaa]

hi love how are youuu <3<3

So, as my p1harmony writer of trust, i shall confess that i am in desperate need of jongseob content. And maybe youve already seen this, but this. This makes me *feral*.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3sYJK3voX5/?igsh=MWx1eGFtcG9yNXR3Zw==

I dont know who decided that its a good idea to put im in a crop top and pants like that, but *lord*, they deserve an award. Anyway, you probably know what im hinting at, and in case you dont, man's looking *tasty*

Pls whatever you can come up with is fine i will literally mention you in my will because I am actually deceased right now thank youuuu mwah<3 have a good one and thx for listening to my random jongseob rant byeeeee<3<3

JONGSEOB ONE-SHOT

"I already know how it feels,"

Warnings::none (?)

Genre:: friends to lovers, little bit suggestive

Pairing:: bsf!jongseob x fem!reader

A/N:: sorry this is sooo shorttt it could've been longer but I feel like for this prompt it's quite good.

Request:: hiii I'm good ty ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ thank you for all the compliments (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) and dw I am down bad for Jongseob this era too 👌mwah mwah ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ ur request made my day and I'd listen to your rants any day (╯✧▽✧)╯

You turned off the shower and pushed the curtain aside. You stepped out of the tub and dried off your body and hair. You did some basic skin care like a cleanser, toner, and moisturizer before wrapping your warm towel around your body. Your hair still dripping a bit. You opened the door from your bathroom and walked to the main area of your hotel to see Jongseob. You blushed as you stared at him, water dripping from your hair.

"Sorry..." he says softly with pink cheeks. His brown turtle neck sweater swallowing him. You sigh.

"It's fine," you chuckle and go over to your bedside. Jongseob carefully scoots over to you, his headphones that are wrapped around his neck still playing some Lofi beats. As much as he told himself he had no romantic attraction to you his eyes were still glued to your exposed skin and wet hair which made his heart flutter. You used your handheld mirror to brush out your hair and through it, you could see jongseobs curious and filthy eyes.

"You see something?" You said in a teasingly seductive tone.

"N-No!" Jongseob jumped and looked away. You giggled at him with a smile.

"Are you sure~" you teased further as you leaned closer to him, putting your mirror down. At first he looked away from you but after a moment he looked back at you. His eyes went from your face to your chest and a twinkle could be seen in them. "Don't act like I didn't see that little glance and smirk!" You say as you hit him.

"Hey! It was just a second," he tried to justify himself as he moved away from your violent hands. You laughed.

"How would you feel if I stared at your private parts?!" You crossed your arms jokingly.

"I already know how it feels," he said with a light smirk. Your heart paused before you realized what he meant. Now what do you say? I mean it was just because of your curiosity and to be honest, sometimes you just couldn't help it because I mean it's pretty uh prominent... "You're blushing," he teased as his hands crept closer to you.

You stammered as you tried to come up with some excuse or explanation. His fingers walked up your arm slowly. "Yesterday when we were at the hotel pool, the day before that at the food court in the mall, the day before that when we were on the car drive to our trip your eyes were just so glued to..." he chuckled as his headphones played Britney spears quietly. Your face may as well be pure red. You shook your head but Jongseob grabbed your chin and kissed you. "We're leaving in twenty minutes to go to the buffet. Be ready," he smiled before standing up and heading to the door. Leaving you a flustered and confused mess, your heart racing...

Meanwhile, Jongseob outside your room was having a panic attack. Did he say too much? Did he cross the line? Did he touch you uncomfortably? Was he being too cocky? Oh he was just freaking out.

[inafieldofdaisies]

🖊️🖊️ + Mercy

Prompt: Send me a “🖊+an OC“ and I will talk about that OC. It can be a headcanon, a fun fact, a small paragraph of backstory- anything.

🖊️ Mer's mother was named Clementine (which means "gentle, merciful"), so the name (Mercedes) she picks when she goes undercover in the Project is in her memory and anytime Joseph calls her Mercy, he unintentionally reminds Mer of her purpose, of the path of revenge she has chosen. Silly man.

🖊️ Mer's closest confidant owns a private security firm and is the one that takes care of every new identity she takes on. He strongly advised her against getting involved with Eden's Gate because it had bad news written all over.

[aurore-parle-de-ses-idees]

17 with Corunir and Est maybe? which one of them is in the Situation is up to you

17- tending to an injury/wound/illness

sometime vaguely post-canon, in my own version of the angle i put into est-verse a few months before lotro the angle was announced lmao

They return to Bâr Randir in the warm afternoon, the sunlight filtered gold and green through the first changing leaves. It will be cooler come night, but for now they shed their cloaks and outer layers gladly, lounging in the grass and losing themselves in easy chatter while they tend to their equipment. 

It’s only when Corunir cringes at the rasp of a whetstone on steel that Esterín looks at him more closely. He’s at the edge of their loose circle, in the shadow of the building and half turned away, speaking only sparingly, something drawn tight in his face even at the inoffensive noise. She sets down her half-mended bag and crouches beside him.

“Corunir?” she asks softly. He offers her a wan, pinched smile and sighs just as quietly. Her eyes go almost involuntarily to the scar that only just shows beneath his hair, then back to his face in question. He ducks his head in admission and she takes his hand and draws him up. “Leave it,” she says when he reaches for his scattered gear. “I’ll come back for it.” She waves briefly to Braigiar and the others and tugs Corunir gently into Bâr Randir.

He slumps against the wall the moment they are beyond the reach of the sun, pressing his forehead to the cool stones. “You could have said,” she says idly, keeping only the lightest of touches against his arm.

“It wasn’t all that bad yet,” he protests, but he doesn’t open his eyes. He lets Esterín duck under one arm and pull him along, down the familiar halls to her own room. “I wanted to enjoy the afternoon while I could. This weather won’t last much longer.” Esterín frowns.

“Can you much enjoy it at all like this?” He shrugs.

“As much as I could enjoy being anywhere else when it gets bad.” Esterín only hums noncommittally and stops before her door. Corunir blinks his eyes open with a wince and pulls away.

Her room here is small, not much more than bed and table and a wide chest, but it’s hers. Her only great regret is the lack of windows, tucked on the inside of the circular hall on this level rather than the outside, but days like this it’s something of a blessing. It’s cool, and dark, and far from the noise of the common areas or the yards outside- and far nearer than Corunir’s own home deeper in Dol Halcalan. Corunir sits heavily on the edge of the bed and rests his elbows on his knees, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes. Esterín calls forth a small, dim light and keeps the bulk of her body between it and Corunir, searching through her desk by feel more than anything.

She’s gotten much better at this, the cooling rune, tucking a small, round stone carved with tight, narrow lines into a sleeve of fine sand or dried beans. She doesn’t often use it for herself, whatever pain she would seek to soothe too often driving her to distraction beyond the careful control required to keep it only cool and not cold, letting in no more than a breath of winter to chill the weighted sleeve. It’s terribly useful for this, though, especially when so little else seems to help. Corunir droops over himself more and more while she watches, waiting for the cool to spread through the bag. It always seems to get so much worse all at once, leaving him quiet and oversensitive and strangely pale, flinching back from noise and light and even gentle touches, and there is so little she can do but let him alone to sleep the worst of it off. It comes like this more rarely, now, but Esterín never fails to feel wildly insufficient.

She touches his shoulder gently, letting the light die away, but his teeth are still clenched against the great pain she knows is growing in his head. “Lie down,” she says softly, holding out the cold sleeve, and it never really is a reassuring thing when he goes unprotesting, nearly falling flat with a long exhale and letting her lay the bag over his eyes. He catches her wrist in a weak grip before she pulls away entirely, squeezing once before letting her go. “Sleep,” she says, and leaves him to rest.

[causenessus]

HIII NESS CONGRATULATIONS ON 1K!! YOU DESERVE IT SO SO MUCH LOVELY!! 🤲🏻🤍

and if I mayy, can I pls have 💕 + 💙 with iwa if that's alright? I have this picture in my head where iwa doesn't really like touching other's hands with his cause they're pretty calloused, but I just know he's the type to kiss his lover's knuckles so he makes an exception and AHHHH soft iwa always gets me

but anyway CONGRATS AGAINNN!! ILYSM AND TY IF U DECIDE TO DO THIS<3

knuckles & callouses. | iwaizumi h.

iwaizumi x f! reader

written in 2nd person

prompts from 1k followers event: 💕 -> childhood friends &💙 -> "i like the way your hand fits in mine"

"yeah i'll do everything / just let you know / all the reasons why / i'm never gonna let you go <3" from never gonna let you go by stevie dinner

word count: 1k words

notes: fluff!! this was cute to write because i have a lot of callouses on my hands from how frequently i climb ladders (catwalk monkey things </3). iwa’s definitely one of those guys who would've fallen victim to that “my hands look like this so her’s can look like this” trend years ago <3 thank you so much for requesting frans!!! i hope you enjoy this and your idea was ADORABLE

ALSO if you like this...you should totally check out @eggyrocks... who has a kuroo smau CALLED calloused hands which i thought about the entire time i was writing this AND THEY ALSO HAVE MANY MANY BANGER IWA FICS

"the conversation between your fingers and someone else's skin... this is the most important discussion you can ever have."

hajime always has a hand on you. whether it’s an arm around your waist or shoulder keeping you close, or a hand on your thigh when you’re sitting down. he likes to always be in contact with you in some way, making sure you’re still there. but despite that, no matter what, he never lets you hold his hand. whenever you reached for it, he always subtly moved it out of the way just in time. he’d casually lift it from his side where you were moving to hold it and play it off by brushing a stray piece of your hair back, giving you an innocent smile as if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing.

“haji,” you pout one day, fed up with his avoidant habit. “you can’t constantly remind me to put lotion on my hands to keep them from drying out and then not let me hold your hands because you think they’re rough.”

“what are you gonna do about it?” he smiles, amused by your complaint. as if just to make his point clear, he brings your hand to his lips, placing a light kiss on your knuckles. he’s always taking care of you, telling you he’s happy just loving on you and needs nothing else, but that’s not enough for you.

“this,” you retort, grabbing his hand between both of yours, kissing his own knuckles. he can act snarky towards you, you’ll just act the same way back.

out of habit, he tries to pull his hand out of your grip, but you won’t let him. “y/n–”

“no, haji,” you cut him off, looking him straight in the eyes, “i want to hold your hand. i want to love on you the same way you love on me, the way you have since we were kids. and we used to hold hands all the time back then, when your hands were still soft.”

he averts his eyes, and you see the way his jaw tightens at the mention of your shared childhood, “that’s why i don’t want you to touch them–”

“i’m not done yet,” you hush him, placing a finger to his lips, “i miss hold your hands, hajime. i don’t care if they’re rough or calloused or whatever you want to call them. as much as you and your manly little head like to believe that me touching your hands is the end of the world, it’s not. do you wanna know what i think about your calloused hands?”

he blinks for a second, as if he’s seriously considering if he wants to know. his teasing demeanor has completely given away to a nervous, embarrassed one as he mumbles out a small, “...what?”

“i think they’re beautiful just the way you are,” you say, giving him a smile as you turn his hand over in your own, running your thumbs along the hills of his knuckles before you kiss them again, the way he's kissed yours so many times. “i think they show how hard you’ve worked,” you say, holding up his right hand so that you can both see it. you point out the bump on the left side of his middle finger, “i like this callus. do you remember what you told me? you said you developed it when we wrote letters to each other while you were traveling for your internship. you were complaining so much, saying ‘i’ve never had to write this much in my life! blah blah blah, i have another callus…’ do you know what that meant to me? that you were writing so much to me that you developed a callus? i loved reading your long letters, i was so happy that you wrote so much—that you didn’t leave out any details even if it tired out your hand. as much as you may hate how it looks, i like it. it’s like i’m always with you now.” 

you kiss his hand and he presses his lips into a thin line. he’s trying to hold himself back from agreeing with you, but two can play that game. there's a reason you both have stuck around each other since you were kids. “i like the way your fingers are uneven from volleyball. they show how dedicated you were to it, that even when you tore a tendon in one of them, you kept playing because you were so bent on winning. i like the way your hand fits in mine, and the way that i can feel each and every single one of your calluses whenever i hold them. i like the stories behind each one.”

“...you’re a sappy work of art, you know that?” he says after a short pause, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“oh whatever,” you roll your eyes, intertwining your hand with his. and he lets you. “i can see your cheeks are red. did i get through to you?”

“maybe,” he mumbles, looking away.

“does this mean i get to hold your hands more often?” you tease with a smile, squeezing his hand. he squeezes it back three times, giving you a silent ‘i love you.’ 

“i guess,” he shrugs, slightly pursing his lips, “but don’t complain if they get sweaty, or rougher in the winter.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it,” you laugh, lowering your intertwined hands so you can step closer, standing on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “and now you can’t complain if i won’t let go of your hands. you’ve given me permission to hold them and i have lost time to make up for, mr. macho man with the calloused hands.”

he gives you an exasperated sigh, telling you that you've won. you give him a smug smile as he lifts up your hand to kiss the top of it, “as long as your pretty hands stay the way they are, that’s all that really matters. i’ll keep working hard. and if you truly feel that way about my hands, you can do whatever you want with them. i'm all yours.”