#why should he pick back up a friendship that was never his to begin with !!!!

[cerasus--flores]

is "dan heng doesn't owe jing yuan his friendship or any kind of relationship for that matter" really that much of a hot take??? i thought that was the whole point

[elizzsush]

Beastmen Courting Rituals | TWST

Savanaclaw Dorm X Reader

Leona X Reader, Ruggie X Reader, Jack X Reader,

---- BeastFolk typically have instinctual ways they begin 'courting' or a relationship, some even taught from a young age certain courting rituals. (Non-Human courting rituals part 1/3)

Note: Fun fact, I began making Fae courting first but then I posted the future kid thing and didn't want to post two Diasomnia so close together!

Octavinelle Ver | Diasomnia Ver.

Jack:

It started very small, one day he was there, the next he was there again, and the next he was also there.

He was always there.

Then it got a bit... weird? You noticed that when he would approach you, he was making this grumbling, whining sounds? You don't even think he realized it. You chose to ignore this fact for now, maybe it was just because he was a beast man? You didn't want to be rude by saying anything- or make him feel embarrassed.

After that he began to help you with your hair more as well. Well, your general appearance. He'd help you fix your uniform and brush off any dust or anything you'd may want or need help with. In turn you helped him back, it was only fair after all!

Never mind his flushed face while you did this, moving small hairs back in place and picking any particles off his own uniform.

"There's our dynamic pair! beauty and the beast man." Ace teased, a confident grin on his face while you sat down at the table, Jack not too far behind you.

Jack just rolled his eyes, a small blush on his face as he ignored Ace. Aka, while he did the smart thing to do. You, however, have yet to learn that Despite so many months of friendship and raised an eyebrow at the Card boy. "What are you talking about." You rolled your eyes at the boy.

"You don't know? but it's so obvious!" Ace frowned, Grim nodding beside him in agreement, though you doubted he even knew what the boy was talking about. "His tail is always wagging like a fan when he's talking to ya! He's totally in l-" just as Ace was about to finish speaking Jack piped up, his ears straight on his head in an alert manner and his tail stiff behind him.

"I didn't get anything to drink when we got food." He excused himself, you tried to get a look at his face because he wasn't looking at you but he didn't look back and stood up.

Glancing at his tray, you didn't fail to notice the milk carton on it. Plush, Jack was always the prepared, diligent one. That was so odd... You glanced back at Ace only to find him laughing to himself like the funniest thing just happened. "Whatever, where is Deuce?" You rolled your eyes.

"Why should I know? I'm not his mom."

After that, Ace started calling you dense. Maybe you were because you really didn't know what the hell he was talking about.

After that it was like there was a switch in Jack. He began to be touchier, not that you minded of course! Cuddling with friends is always nice, and you liked to think it was because of his more... animalistic features and instincts he was cuddlier.

But somehow it felt more intimate. He'd nuzzle his face into your neck and hang off of you like he was a coat instead of a large man who was... well jacked.

You'd often wrestle him off of you because he had gotten into the habit of, as you said before, hanging off of you! He'd whine and almost instinctually wrestle you back to stay into his place.

You may not be as strong as him, but you also didn't hate the way he'd run with you at P.E. You knew he could easily run laps around everyone, but instead he stuck with you. Smiling at you exhausted look and cheering you on. "I'm sure Coach Vargas wouldn't mind us taking a break?" He laughs a bit awkwardly after you glared at him for suggesting it when he barely even broke a sweat.

It wasn't till after Leona off Handly mentioned something about you smelling like Jack. Even wrinkling his nose and saying that he "didn't have to lay it on that thick." That you started to think, maybe, just maybe, something else was going on here.

So, you went to the library. Got yourself your very own book (that you had to return in two weeks) on Beastfolk Mating rituals.

Suddenly, it made sense why Ace thought you were dense. Apparently, this was commonish knowledge in this world! And maybe you were ignoring pretty obvious signs now that you thought about it.

So, one afternoon when Jack was hanging off of you, that look in his eyes you hadn't noticed till now. You bit his hand. His ears straightened in surprise and he looked at you for a moment. A thick blush on his face.

"Am I dense or are you courting me?" You finally asked now that you had his attention.

"I have been for a while now..." He sheepishly admitted while not looking you in the eye.

____________

Ruggie:

He avoided you like the plague, at first.

Even now, sometimes when he's approaching you, you noticed that he might backtrack and hesitate.

Now he is a lot more relaxed, often hanging off of your shoulder. Now that he knows you won't bite his head off. His tail would wag behind him slightly while he interacted with you. A stark contrast to the stiff, alert eared boy he was just a little while ago!

You will say though, it did take some of your lunches to get here. You'd equate this process to that of getting a scared cat to approach you with treats. Now, you didn't even need the treats to get him around! He'd approach you first now too. Still with hesitance, but once he did come up to you he did seem to enjoy himself.

"He loved hanging off of you and cuddling up to you. He was very handsy, (Like most beast men, you'd later learned) His face often nuzzled into the nook of your neck. "He loved hanging off of you and cuddling up to you. He was very handsy, (Like most beast men, you'd later learned) His face often nuzzled into the nook of your neck.

"It's so weird to see a Ruggie-Senpai hang out with you so much." Deuce said off handedly one afternoon. You two were studying together when he thought of this.

"What do you mean?" You couldn't help but ask the card solider. Putting your pen down as you looked at him curiously.

The boy just shrugged, a odd look on his face. "I don't know, I just thought Hyena beast men were more... You know." he added a bit awkwardly. You decided to drop it there.

"Yeah... Anyway, I think I remember-"

The interaction stood out in your head, however. What exactly did Deuce even mean? After that interaction, you noticed a couple things as well. Beast students would look at you and nodded at you in recognition? Leona's nose would scrunch up a bit when you spoke to him (though he never made any comments on it), and when you walked into Savanaclaw a beast guy once mistook you for Ruggie before he looked at you?

What did any of that even mean?! When you asked Jack, he just said you smelt like Ruggie.

That small interaction you had with Deuce quickly began to send you down a hill of thinking about everything Ruggie ever did! How he hung off of you, and how you two hung out. It got even weirder when Ruggie offered you some food. Like he had been for a while.

This was very out of character for the Hyena boy! How did you not realize it before? So, you asked him about it. "How come you always offer me something when we eat together?"

He blushed a bit looking at you with wide eyes for a moment before shaking his head, "I do that don't I?" he laughed awkwardly, "I mean I bring food home for the neighborhood kids too. We all got to eat; you know?" He shrugged it off. You wondered what that meant, because he didn't do it with anyone else, but you failed to push him on the subject.

Your sad to say, you never fully realized what was happening till someone explained it to you.

He knocked on Ramshackle door with a handful of pretty dandelions and asked you on a date. "Perfect, would you like to um... go out with me?" he asked hesitantly, a nervous smile on his face while he put his head down. Like he was trying to protect his neck...

You said yes and it was after that Leona explained how annoying it was watching you two and basically inadvertently explained everything to you...

"That would have been helpful to know sooner." You grumbled to yourself after talking with the lion.

"Eh? Ignore him shyhehe!~ Ruggie just snickered with his usual sly smile.

____________

Leona:

Leona didn't really have time for games. If he liked, you he'd just come out and say it. At least, that's what you had first thought. Yes, he did use your lap as a pillow and you two did cuddle somewhat regularly. That didn't exactly mean anything. Right?

And yeah, Ruggie did scrunch his nose up and complain that you smelt too much like Leona, but that didn't matter. Leona probably didn't mean to do that; he was probably sleeping.

Did Leona roar at you? Yeah, so what? It was like a yawn; it just came out. No, he wasn't blushing! He couldn't be because you were already looking away in embarrassment.

Leona just didn't like you like that. No matter how many Courting book you read on beast men!

The Lion man in question invited you out to a Spelldrive tournament he had been practicing for. Obviously, you went without a second thought. It would be nice to see the lazy lion not lazing around for once! At least that's how you justified it.

You definitely didn't want to just see your crush play a match.

You couldn't help but notice the whole time, how Leona kept looking at you in your seat. Making sure you had just seen him perform. You'd smile and cheer for him and maybe, just maybe, a sense of pride would build up in his chest.

And maybe it was really nice to hear you cheer, and see you jump up from your seat in excitement. And maybe it was really nice to be able to cheer for him.

So you planned to confess to him after this game. "Leona I really liked you! I have for a while now!" And you did.

"Finally." He yawned and rubbed the back of his neck, you two then went to cuddle in the garden.

Did that mean you two were together now...?

____________

A/N: I know that some dorms aren't like nonhuman, but I can imagine that like Riddle was taught like courting customs in The Queendom of Roses, (Some queen of heart rule) or like the scalding sands have some costumes? Like the world changes because of beastmen/Fae customs and people adapted to that and added it to their own ways of approaching a relationship? Idk lol

Sorry Leona's part was quite short, I was getting tired and just wanted to get this out! But thank you for reading!

[suiana]

yandere! harpy who tries offering you his mating feather because he just loves you so much! he wants you to be his and what better way than to make you his mate?

he had met you a few months back after you got lost in the forest. his part of the forest of course. the harpy was a little confused by the appearance of some random human in the dead of the night. what were you doing here?

unfortunately he never found out. but that didn't matter. if you didn't wanna share that's totally fine. (you were passed out and couldn't talk)

he's worried that you might die if he let you be though, so he decided to watch over you while you fell asleep on the floor of his cave. aw, you're so cute! humans are adorable! you'd probably scream and try to get away from him when you woke up so he'll hide away.

....what he didn't expect was to get smothered by you...

"eh? what are you-"

"fluffy birdman."

"ahahah.... yeah..."

and just like that, a beautiful friendship was formed. and he found out that you were actually looking for the harpy (him). he was... flattered? embarrassed? a human was looking for him? why?

"cause birds are cool. and you're a bird so why not? also, i'm a researcher :3"

"um... ahaha..."

you came back to visit him again and again after that encounter. bearing gifts, talking to him, sharing about your life, asking about his life... the harpy was beginning to become a little more than just protective over you. you gave him gifts! surely this must be some sort of mating ritual for humans!

how could a bird like him distinguish between pure interest and love?

and you realized that too. unfortunately by the time you noticed his change in personality, it was too late.

"will you accept my mating feather?"

his big round eyes, plagued with obsession as his cheeks flush a beautiful red. you could only step back in horror as the harpy flashed a deceivingly innocent smile.

"sorry..."

silence filled the air as the harpy's smile dropped. ah. you rejected him?

"w-why? was my feather not pretty enough? should i pick another one?"

the harpy's chirps soon turned frantic as e grabs you by the arms and stares right into your very soul. why, why, why? weren't you interested in him? you're his mate aren't you? you love him!

no, someone must've tried to steal you away from him.

"is there someone else? someone tried to take my mate from me?"

you could only let out a shaky whimper as you stared at how his expression did a 180. no longer was he smiling or staring at you like a lovesick fool. no, now he was... looking right into your very being like you belonged to him.

"must be some other human... no worries, i'll just keep you with me. you should be with me anyway. my mate."

oops. looks like you fucked with the wrong bird.

[solbaby7]

Good Enough to Eat

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: porn with little plot, the less obvious take on size-kink, swearing, minors DNI, size kink, implied pre-existing friendship with almost in a relationship/mated undertones? whatever tickles ur fancy, prolly typos

summary: Azriel never really took a notice to little things—until you.

—

If Azriel was being honest with himself, he could admit he’d gotten carried away.

He just hadn’t remembered ever noticing it before—how large his frame was in comparison to a female. Not until you came around with a body too small to put into words with five times as much fire inside to make up for it.

He'd lost count of how many times his mind had wandered to less than savory places in your presence; fixating on the strain of your neck when peering up to look him in the eye as you rambled on about your day. A low hum of distant acknowledgment rumbles through his chest, an attempt to seem like he was paying attention to the words coming of your mouth instead of fixating on the inviting plush of your lips. "Az, are you even listening to me?"

"Of course," A lie saturated in sweet honey and presented on a golden platter but you eat it up all the same, smiling up at him with a knowing look buried in your iris. "Keep going."

There's a brief pause--a hesitation where you contemplate questioning that faraway look etched in his features. You decide against it, shaking it off with a little laugh before continuing where you left off.

Azriel hangs onto every quirk of your lip, the etherial glow that emanated from your form as the midday sun bristles through thin curtains. Such glorious beauty enhanced by the abyss of black that draped enticingly over your chest, twisting and crossing at your midriff until it blended seamlessly into the flowy little skirt that teased at your thighs.

He drinks in every inch of bared skin, fingers clenching into fists of barely contained want when picturing those legs thrown over his shoulders with your body propped against any surface sturdy enough to withstand your weight and his mouth buried between your...

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

A mix of guilt and embarrassment should burn in Azriel's chest for being caught not paying attention but with his brain so lost in the clouds, the truth just seems to spill right out. "You're so cute." A blush grows at the apples of your cheeks, neck jerking forward just a little to push your hair against your face to hide but Azriel has already seen it—already grown addicted to it and yearns for more. "Like a little doll. Makes me want to carry you around everywhere and see how high I can throw you."

"I've killed men three times your size."

"Even cuter, a murderous little kitten."

Your nose scrunches, lips poking into a pout and when your arms raise to cross at your chest in defiance. Azriel nearly groans with need, mouth salivating at the thought of marking that skin with endless reminders of who you belonged to. “I’m far from feline and I’m not little.”

Azriel’s brow raises in silent challenge, his hands moving before he can second guess himself and in an instant you become weightless. The surprised cry that pulls free is instinctual when you’re thrown about, limbs grasping at open air for purchase. “I don’t know,” He muses, catching you and flipping you over his back with an annoying ease. “You feel like lightwork to me.”

To and fro he twists you about, a bright smile stamped on his mouth when your frightened shouts shift into unrestrained giggles and grabby hands for stability. “Azriel,” The syllables are broken up from your choppy breaths, cheeks red and thoughts scrambled. “Put me down.”

“Put you down? I hadn’t even noticed I picked you up to begin with.”

“Azriel,” You repeat, more urgency in your cadence when you feel the soft fabric of your skirts teasing up the smooth length of your legs. “I’m serious—my dress!”

“What a dress it is,” The calloused drag of his hand is sinful when sliding its way up the back of your leg, working the material up, up, up until the chilled breeze from the opened window hits your exposed flesh. “I’m a little more interested in whats under it though.” A low groan pulls from his chest when his golden gaze eats up the pale blue pair of sheer panties. Azriel could feel the thin grip he had on his restraint slipping until nothing was left in his grasp but the hypnotizing malleability of your ass. “Not so little down here, huh?”

You should tell him to stop.

You could easily use that training Cassian taught you to wiggle from Azriel’s hold and throw him to the ground as reparations.

But like the whore you are, your hips raise ever so slightly, urging his inquiring touch to shift a few inches further. “Not sure if I can say the same about you.”

Azriel’s low chuckle rumbles against your belly, his nose training up the exposed curve of your hip before he’s shifting you once more. It’s more careful this time—his hand placement more intentional when sliding you down his front, hooking your legs at his hips until you’re forced to meet his eye. “Are you brave enough to find out?”

Breath hitches, snippy words caught in the back of your throat as Azriel crossed this imaginary line drawn in the sand with all of these implicating touches. You swear your heart is fixing to lurch from your chest from the anticipation of it all, thighs clenching tighter around his waist and before you can restrain yourself—hips roll against the hard bulge straining against his breeches. “Guess so,” You utter back, pupils blown out and fingers starting their exploration in the softness of Azriel’s messy ebony strands.

A groan pulls from his throat, grip tightening at your waist and with two steps your back is braced up against the wall. Azriel’s movements are a little sloppy in his eagerness, fingers catching on crossed fabric but it doesn’t seize his exploration of you. Warm palms skim over the length of your stomach, slowing over the tantalizing swell of your breasts. “I think about these a lot.” Azriel confesses shamelessly, voice rough with want; the fan of his breath against such sensitive skin forcing a shiver down your spine. “Seems almost unnatural for such a little thing like you to have these less than little assets. You make it hard for me to get things done around here.”

Your brains a little foggy, clouded with pure lust and distracted by the concentration it takes to maintain the steady rock of your hips against the clothed cock between your thighs. “I’d say sorry but—Azriel.”

Dark promise is etched into every stunning feature when he slowly works a thumb over the length of your bottom lip. It must be instinctual, the way his tongue traces over his own in sync. “This mouth of yours has nearly gotten you in this same position dozens of times.” Need pools in your underthings, seeping through flimsy material and dragging deliciously against your clit with each desperate rut. You barely notice when the golden warmth of the library fades into the cool darkness of Azriel’s room.

It only adds to the lusty delirium, his scent engulfing you like a wave and finally his lips press against yours. Twin moans fill the silence, curious shadows following their masters command in easing your hair from your shoulders and sliding the straps of your dress free.

Every touch feels like puzzle pieces slotting into place.

His tongue in your mouth, your hands tangled in his hair while his shadows blocked out the rest of the world until nothing was left but Azriel and you. “Nearly dozens?” You breathlessly repeat, neck craning to offer more space for the myriad of marks he intended to place there. “What took you so long?”

Insecurity. Cowardice. A million different reasons had stopped Azriel from ever daring opening this door but now that the knob has been turned and the threshold breached—he was happily trapped; proud to be held prisoner as long as you desired. “Who cares? I’ve got you now.”

Melting into him is as easy as breathing, kisses desperate and hands heated when tugging off any offending clothing without breaking the connection.

Years of exposure to Azriel in the training ring prepares you plenty to see his bare abdomen and the densely packed muscles that’s housed there. The rest, however, has your mouth watering, teeth biting into your bottom lip when the heavy weight of his cock settles teasingly between your legs. “Is that what you want? To have me?” He doesn’t bother with words, only nodding once as his mouth is entirely too occupied learning the shape of your breasts and the noises that sound when his teeth graze at hardened peaks. “Then, please stop teasing before I handle this myself.”

Probably the wrong choice of words, even if they are harmless and fueled by errant desire.

“Handle it yourself?” A surprised noise escapes you when the position is swiftly shifted, Azriel’s back now propped against the headboard and his arms don’t even shake when bearing the brunt of your weight. “I’d love to see you try.” The smug expression he bears is slightly worrisome and yet you don’t resist when the weeping tip of his cock is rubbed against your folds, slipping between and easing inside.

“Fuckkk,” The word drags off your tongue, lids shut and lashes fluttering from the pleasure of it all—you felt so full. So unbelievably full that all you can do is whimper your praise and hope that your body was able to handle what you were going to put it through.

Azriel knew he’d gotten carried away.

You just sounded so pretty. Looked well on your way to being so perfectly ruined with your hair splayed messily down your shoulders as you struggled to take the full length of him, even with arousal dripping onto the satin sheets. “You’re squeezing me too tight,” Azriel croons soothingly, attempting to ease the tremble of your calves with the slow drag of his palms. “Gotta breathe, baby.”

It’s easier said than done and after a few seconds of trying to force your lungs to do their fucking jobs, you ditch the efforts altogether and delegate to more pressing matters.

Azriel doesn’t anticipate your determination but he falls harder when your brows furrow with the effort, a deep groan rumbling right through him when your hips go flush with his own.

You barely give yourself time to adjust, too eager after finally being granted all you’d desired. It’s almost as if there’s all the time in the world and still not enough time at all when Azriel’s sat so sturdy beneath you, his eyes raking up every inch of your body and committing it to memory. “There you go,” He praises with hands on your hips to guide the lewd movements. “Just like that, perfect girl.”

You all but preen under the worship, hypnotized by the devilish rasp he adopts and everything combined ignites a dangerous desire to please.

To give and give and give until there was nothing left but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care when the process felt so godsdamned good. “Az, I’m so close.” The coil in your gut grows unbearable, the steady rhythm you’d maintained begins to falter but Azriel’s quick to pick up where you’ve left off, hips bucking up into you over and over and over until one orgasm blends into the other. Every muscle goes pliant, curling around him like a lifeline as he takes his fill.

You can barely remember your name when his release follows, his chest glistening and hair in complete disarray when plopping down to the mattress, easing you beside him.

There’s a moment of awkward silence where you suddenly aren’t sure where to put your hands. Is this the part where you were supposed to leave?

When you can finally move your legs again, you make a move to slip from the warmth of the covers, bare toes skimming the harsh bite of hardwood floors when Azriel stops you with one hand is gently curled around your arm. The deep navy sheets are lazily covering his lower half and it’s near impossible to drag your eyes away from the sharp cut of his physique now that you know what it felt like up close. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“It’s the middle of the day, I still have so much to do—I should get going.”

“Blow it off,” It’s almost embarrassing how easily you melt into the request, sinking into the way he tugs you back into him, shadows tucking you securely under the covers. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

[jymwahuwu]

-You play a stripping game with Aventurine! See how much you can win?

cw: yandere, dub-con, manipulative behavior, naive, drunk reader, reader has female reproductive system, creampie, getting stripped naked after playing games

"What? Did that customer really say that? This is so silly!" You held a wine glass with ice in one hand and giggled drunkenly. And Aventurine is sitting next to you now. He confirmed your question, causing you to snicker again. He adds the sweet golden liquid to your cup. "That's right - I always advised them not to… Who would have thought that that business would become so exaggerated?"

"Hmm, that's enough, that's enough…" You took another sip of wine, leaned on his table, turned your head, smiled, and looked at the outline of his face. It's been weeks since you talked to Aventurine like this, in his villa. But once you meet him, there is an endless stream of things to say, maybe this is the precious friendship.

"Anyway, how about playing a game when you have free time?" he suggested.

You got interested and asked him what his game was. Aventurine held up your palm and explained the rules to you several times. You nodded, but you didn't really understand. "Okay, okay, how many credits should we bet?"

"It's vulgar to talk about money all the time, my friend." He smiled and held up a finger. "How about taking off one piece of clothing after losing a round?"

"Take off… clothes?" You tilted your head… closed your eyes and shook your head. "ah?"

Aventurine said in surprise. "It's a popular game. Didn't you know?"

"I-Of course I know!!" You raised your voice, pretending you already knew everything. Thinking of the value of his outfit… "Hmph, I can take away your hundreds of thousands of outfits soon."

"1, 6, 2!"

"6, 6, 6!"

"It's time to take off your clothes." He raised his chin and reminded. You snorted, removing a jacket and throwing it on his couch.

"4, 5, 6!"

"6, 6, 6!"

"What?" You picked up the three dice, checked and struck them from different angles, but there was nothing strange about them. "Did you cheat? Why are the results always so incredible?" Aventurine chuckled and shrugged. "I told you before that I'm very lucky, don't you believe me?"

"Ah, okay…" You reluctantly stared at his exquisite attire, which he had never taken off, and then looked down at your own graphic t-shirt and shorts, which were pulled up so that the bra and the breasts wrapped inside were exposed to the air. Embarrassment tugs at your heart and you try to fight back. "Next round! I don't believe you can beat me!"

2, 1, 1.

6, 6, 6.

If question marks could pop up in reality, a thousand question marks would have popped up above your head. You stare at the results in disbelief. How could Aventurine be so lucky? You can't even take one of his watches or rings? And are you so defeated now that you have to take off either your bra or panties?

"I-I won't play anymore. Boring game!" You bluffed, asking to get your clothes back, but Aventurine raised his eyebrow. "Awwww, it seems there is a coward here…"

"Who are you calling a coward?"

"You didn't keep your bet."

You are not a coward! You took back the hand holding the clothes and tremblingly touched your underwear and bra. Which one should you take off? If you lose again, will you really be completely naked? How do you get home? In the midst of your thoughts and drunkenness, you settled on a bra, but then covered your bare breasts with your hands. "Humph, now is the beginning of my victory!"

Victory? Aventurine almost laughed out loud, holding back the ridicule rising in her throat, knowing that you might leave in a huff, and all the previous arrangements would be ineffective. You open a dice simulator from the Internet to avoid possible cheating from Aventurine.

5, 1, 3.

6, 6, 6.

…It’s really…BEYOND WEIRD. How on earth is this possible? Is Aventurine walking on some lucky path you don't know and being protected by the lucky Aeon? But anyway, now you have to take off your panties and keep your promise. Now you were completely naked, in his villa, in front of your friend.

"Hey! You... don't have to do this... " You watched as Aventurine put them all in a box and locked it up. These clothes…are no longer your property. "There's no way I'm going home naked!"

"Didn't someone just say they were going to take my clothes away? I thought you were serious?" He chuckled, pulled your arm, and guided you onto his lap. With your brain like a drunken fog and embarrassment, you knelt on the sofa in confusion, your legs spread apart, and the luxurious sofa sank. A gentle kiss. Bring some hot air. Like an electric shock. "Umm…"

"Too bad your clothes won't come back, but you can win a new set by…"

Aventurine's thumb rubbed against your hot cheek for half a minute before he reluctantly unbuttoned his pants and took out his long, swollen and erect cock, the glans teasing your slit. You whimpered, placing your hands on his chest, and the glans stretched your folds and the warm inside of your vagina. "I…"

This is really more incredible than these rounds of dice. You were bouncing on his cock, moaning and sobbing in ecstasy. His hand cupped your ass, occasionally slapping it in exchange for you squeezing his cock unconsciously, while rubbing your clit with his other hand.

As the cream spurts into your body, ecstatic bliss fills you. You tighten your limbs, your butt trembles, and you wrap your hands around his neck, gasping for air.

"You win. I'll give you a new set when you wake up, okay?"

[rxzennia]

a promise of forever

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 falling in love; promising an eternity in return. aventurine's real name, ~3k word vomit

aventurine has realized by now that he might just be in love with you.

okay, love is a strong word, let’s take a few steps back. 

he isn’t too sure if he’s ready to make that commitment yet, so… at least, he wants you to always be with him. to stay by his side.

he has to make the first move because you would never

he’s terrified!! he doesn’t want to be the first one to offer his heart!!

but if he doesn’t you’d be perfectly content maintaining whatever you have right now

like… boss and assistant? friends? best friends? roommates? lovers? not yet?

aeons he hated how passive you are

it’s so damn obvious that you liked him back to a certain degree

but why aren’t you trying to hold onto him? why aren’t you trying to take up more of his life like he’s doing with you? 

he wants your smiles all to himself; wants your hidden softness to only be directed at him; wants your affection for himself, all of you, including your leviathans

he loves, loves how you’ve opened up to him over time

you’ve gone from a ice cold slab of stone to a wall he trusts enough to rant at, then the highlight of his life that he doesn’t want to let go of

the way you would get upset whenever he tries to do something dangerous, even if you and he both know he’d come out fine

the way you would pick up the phone regardless of when or why he’s calling, even if you’re off duty and annoyed at him ringing you at 2am

the way you would, without considering his feelings, cringe and back away when he accidentally brings you food you hate, but ultimately feed it to your scarf because you don’t want to waste it

he loves them all. your reactions, your expressions, everything

especially when he’s probably the only one to see so much of you all the time

he wants to keep hearing you talk about yourself, keep learning more about you, even the parts of you that no one’s ever known before

he didn’t want to tell you all of that, yet he wants you to know

except you’ve made it very clear with your personality that if he doesn’t tell you, you won’t pry

and, like, you can’t read minds. neither can he.

so you’ve essentially forced him into confessing :(

if he wants your friendship (and more), he has to be the one who asks

aventurine remembers how cold you were at the beginning, so much so that he briefly wondered if working under him was amount to torture for you as it was for a few of his previous secretaries.

you never talked more than absolutely necessary, you've always had that terrifying glare, and couple these things with the fact that he rarely saw your face? yeah, you didn’t look like you wanted to be there.

he tried to transfer you elsewhere. under topaz, maybe, or even jade, or even some other department but you've never replied.

but you've replied to his texts before and after that?

you've just flat out ignored the transfer offer?

does this mean you don't want to be transferred?

that's probably when his fascination with you started

you, who's so detached and seems to dislike him, wanting to stay as his secretary?

he tried to ask you about it once, but all he got was “there's still a year before my contract expires”

which, well, yes, fair enough

but you should also know that if he's the one bringing it up, you won’t be getting into trouble for breaking the contract

he drops it, though, because he knows that there might be certain things you don't want to tell him

or perhaps you don't understand

he feels like you're very bad with emotions and expressing your thoughts

you are, honestly

it’s a different story with the permanent offer he made you a while ago, though

“are you sure?” you asked, with rare anticipation in your eyes

he chuckles, “absolutely.”

you try to hide your joy, but the speed at which you signed the paper is telltale enough

he’s also promoted you from secretary to assistant

even though you’re pretty much his assistant already

you don’t really know how to feel about that part

does this mean you’ll get even busier? not really? will you still be staring at contracts at 3am?

then comes aventurine’s offer for you to move in with him.

you’ve managed to finally notice that the dynamic between you and your boss resembles that of typical lovers in the media, but what do you know? one, aventurine is probably unused to someone else’s company so he’s compensating for it, and two, it’s not like you’re versed enough in mortal sentiments to make an accurate judgement.

he cuddles up to you in his sleep

he’ll smack your face accidentally when he wakes up and stretches

“this is the twenty-third time you’ve done this.” your scarf morphs into half a faceless snake and push his hand back down

why the hell have you been keeping count

you’ve mostly lined your morning routine up with his

efficiency, you tell yourself, it’ll be easier to keep yourselves on schedule

which means you find yourself with him at the breakfast table more often than not

he’s eating normally, while you… 

you have a leviathan chewing on the entire plate, and yes that includes the ceramic

what about you? you’re preparing presentations and drafting contracts, of course!

or sometimes fighting for your life in corporate emails :/

is starting the day together really still simply “efficiency” at this point?

you’re starting to think you’re lying to yourself as the days go by

maybe you’ve been living amongst mortals for too long

because you find him so precious that you want to hold him dearly and give him everything

he’s so scared of being vulnerable, but he’s willing to lower his guard around you

what is this foreign feeling? what’s with this odd desire to protect? to hoard?

like how dragons hoard treasure, or how crows hoard shiny things

has anyone told you you’re terrible at emotions?

you’re terrible at emotions

you’ve memorized every little thing he likes and every little habit he has

and he noticed! of course he noticed!

are you absolutely sure you don’t like him even a little bit?

are you absolutely sure you have nothing to say to him?

must he make the first move when you’re so blatantly obvious?

he really, really, hates you (lovingly) for this

aventurine eventually comes to terms with it. if he wants you, officially, he’ll have to bare his innermost thoughts first.

there’s a period of distancing, and a period of overwhelming anxiety and overthinking all on his own. but even then you didn’t pull away from him, no; you were patient. you’ve asked, then left him alone when he turned his head away, then you’ve kept it professional. you didn’t question him again after, either.

it stung a little when you acted all formal with him, but it’s your little actions in-between that convinced him to finally come out and say it. getting him coffee the way he likes it, letting him find comfort in your presence at night even if he’s suddenly closed himself off, ordering his favorite takeout when it’s a slow day, covering his openings when you find yourselves locked in combat… you’ve always been looking after him, haven’t you?

finally, finally, aventurine decides to confess.

considering how little he knows about you, he (surprisingly) isn’t too worried about giving you his heart

well, of course there is the tiniest amount of doubt and fear

but mostly he thinks you wouldn’t betray his trust. mostly.

you’re a walking green flag, after all

maybe with the exception of when you’re left alone with monsters

but the way you treat him? green flag. massive green flag.

even after he’s told you a little bit about his past, you haven’t looked down on him at all

he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked down on him

though, he thought you thought him despicable when you first met because of the way you looked at him

not unreasonable with the stereotypes against his people and all

but you’ve proven his assumption wrong on your first day

you were totally cooperative and really… well, not nice, but not hard to work with, either

despite your unresponsiveness, you’ve kept everything he said in mind

that’s not how one behaves around someone they find distasteful

and after spending so much time with you, he realized that’s just how your stare is

you sort of… look down on everyone without meaning to 

you have no idea how relieved he was when he could finally be certain that you’ve never disliked him

also! he can discern between your stares now

your resting neutral stare, your happy stare, your disgusted stare, they’d look the same to the average person, but not to him anymore

(he was super happy when he realized he’s got it all down)

he’s learned to read you because you’re so reserved and detached all the time

oh how he wished you’d tell him more about yourself

before anyone asks, he did try to dig up your past

imagine his surprise when he found nothing, like, literally nothing

the one time he watched you eat a monster whole was the first time he learned something deeper about you

he then realized that it wasn’t a coincidence that he couldn’t find anything about you

anyways, back to the confession

he’s come up with an entire plan in his head, but he really has no idea how to execute it

he wants to make it as memorable as possible for you! 

except… would you even like a grand confession (of companionship)?

in the end, he took you out to a fancy dinner under the guise of “just another dinner date with your boss”

he’ll tell you his feelings at home

he has an inkling that you’d prefer it that way. intimate and private.

“hey…” aventurine starts, sitting down next to you on the bed after his shower, “i’ve been thinking…”

you naturally pull the towel off his shoulders and stand up to dry his hair for him. “you think?”

“stop, i’m serious,” he complains, punching your stomach playfully before burying his face in your shirt. “hear me out, you oversized snake.”

that’s the first time you’ve heard that nickname. “what?” you can’t help but be amused at the creative insults, then you let out a soft sigh and shut your mouth.

“you know how you’re now my permanent assistant?” aventurine slowly says, wrapping his arms around your waist as you work on his head, “can i… can we keep having this arrangement?”

you reply with a hum, but your tone slides up towards the end, like you’re asking a question. he chuckles, of course you’re confused, you’re so dense sometimes.

aventurine shifts around until he’s looking up at you. “this. you and i, living together, taking care of each other,” he elaborates, his eyes half-closed from how tired he is, “can you… stay?” then, with a quieter voice, he adds, “with me?”

you take some time to think about it as you toss the towel aside and bring out the hair dryer

from what you know about him, this is a very, very big request for him

he’s essentially asking if he can rely on you 

even though he’s probably relied on himself most of his life

he wants to put his faith in you? you’re flattered, really

it seems like he’s also checking off a lot boxes for what people call “love”

according the the movies and books you’ve watched and read, anyway

but he’s not calling it “love”? is this something else, then?

you start blow drying his hair, carding through his blond locks with your free hand

he relaxes into your touch

“well? your answer?” aventurine asks, a slight shake in his voice as he peeks at you nervously.

“you sound like the protagonist of a romance movie,” you remark, leaning down to give him a quick peck on his head, “is this what it is?” 

suddenly, it dawns on you why exactly were there flowers at dinner

roses, no less

but jeez, you did not need to call him out like that

what happened to oblivious and clueless?

then again, you’re bad with your own emotions, but you’re horribly good at reading others’

he flushes and hides his face in your stomach

he just wants to hear your answer, not hear you point out he’s probably extremely smitten with you

and it’s probably worse that you compared him to the lead actors in a romance movie

is he so obvious? is he not subtle at all?

does this mean you’ve known all along? you just didn’t want to make the first move?

or do you not feel the same way?

oh no, he’s overthinking again

“aventurine,” you call, snapping him out of his trance, “if you don’t say no, i’ll assume this is a love confession.”

man, why would you say it like that? it’s not that he can deny it, but if you’re going to be so damn straightforward…

“it… it is, i suppose, in more ways than one,” he whimpers in embarrassment, “will you, then, uh, will you say yes?”

he wants to trust you with all of himself so bad

finally he won’t have to shoulder everything alone anymore

he’ll tell you everything about his upbringing, even the ugliest parts

he’s been yearning for someone to hear him, to see him for so long

will you be his person?

he’s so excited and so scared

more scared than excited, actually

there are more issues he’ll need to work through, but for now?

he wants your promise

he doesn’t think he’ll ever come across someone as perfect as you again

so he really, really, really needs you to say yes 

as the low whirr of the hair dryer comes to a stop, you set the little device on the nightstand and sit down next to aventurine. you sandwich his face between your palms and make him meet your gaze – you’ll never get used to how mystically pretty his eyes are – as you flash him a lazy smile.

“if you’re sure you want me,” you mumble; it seems that you are just as embarrassed as he is, “then… by all means.”

just as he’s going to throw himself into your arms, you stand up

?????? where are you going ??????

oh, you’re just going to put away the hair dryer and the towel

and also bring a spare scarf back with you? 

did you forget that you have yours hanging on your neck

he’s so over the moon right now he’s all giddy and all over the place inside

are you perhaps the same? 

when you come back, he practically throws himself into your lap

you avoid his eyes

holy shit you’re cute when you’re flustered

you’re blushing

you, who’s usually so stoic and unresponsive, is blushing!!

and trying to hide your face without resorting to your scarf!!

in the end you give up and instead pull him so close that he can’t see your expression

he doesn’t know what he’s asking out, you think, he doesn’t know what he’s trying to trust

which makes it all the more endearing to you

and it makes you want to make sure you live up to his expectations

this little mortal has you wrapped around his finger, and you don’t find yourself annoyed at all

in fact you want to shelter him and coddle him so badly that you’re tempted to act on instinct

tempted to. you can’t, because of a lot a lot of reasons

again, seriously, you’ve been hanging around mortals for far too long

you gently press his face into your shoulder. “aven-” 

“kakavasha,” he corrects, “call me kakavasha. please.”

“okay, kakavasha.” you don’t hesitate, and you move to massage his scalp. “your real name?”

it seems like he’s in no mood to talk, because all he gives you is a quiet hum in affirmation; you agree with him, you don’t feel like talking much, either.

you pull away slightly to kiss right above his ear. then you did something he would’ve never expected you to do – with your nimble fingers, you wrapped the extra scarf in your hands around his neck, gave it a few loops then secured it with the same knot you use to secure yours.

what just happened

you slowly pull away with a soft pat to the piece of cloth

did you just give him…?

you did. you did, you mad danger noodle of incomprehensible mass

two faceless creatures with drool dripping from their maws stare at him

they’re connected to the scarf you put on him

he’s feeling so many things right now

even if he doesn’t quite understand what this means, he at least knows that you’ve given him a literal part of yourself

you’re very into this idea of being with him, huh…?

boy, he’s so glad he decided to confess

because he would’ve never known had he not asked

and what do you mean he would’ve missed out on something so wonderful?

this is also the first time someone outside of his family has ever given him something so precious and personal

he awkwardly reaches out to pet them

they nudge against his hand happily? 

that’s weirdly adorable for a creature that has a diet of literal monsters 

and much like satisfied pets, they disappear into the scarf after they’ve gotten their fill of petting

“for me?” aventurine- no, kakavasha asks, tentatively running his hands across the smooth fabric.

“proof of my loyalty to you,” you reply, taking his hand and placing kisses on his every finger. 

what you don’t tell him is that your promise will last for eternity and beyond – even if you fight, or part ways, you’ll always watch over him. he doesn’t need to know that. not yet, anyway.

“you…” kakavasha feels like he’s a child all over again. he’s safe, he’s not making a wager, he’s not going to win or lose here, he can finally take a breather. “you have no idea…”

he buries his face into you, grabs your sides so he can press his body tightly against yours, and he sobs into your chest. he isn’t surprised at all that the scarf around your neck would wrap around him too, and he’s just all bundled up in you.

“shh, shh.” you pat his back and rock him back and forth. “easy now,” you whisper, “i’m here, kakavasha.”

aeons, he really, really loves the sound of your voice, especially when you say his name. when it was aventurine, you were reliable, loyal, and above all, gentle; when he finally allows you to call him kakavasha, every syllable from your lips drips with unspoken affection and a gratefulness that he’s unused to.

maybe someday he’ll finally be able to proudly profess his love to you. but at this very moment…

this is enough.

[webbluvrsugar]

frat!rafe never knows how to deal with playgirl!reader, it’s just…too much for him sometimes

MEET THE AU (introduction).

You’re getting dressed in his dorm, tight sequins dress already on as you sit down in front of his desk, — that’s now turned into a makeshift vanity for your makeup — he’s thrown in the bed, lazily sitting up in it as he watches you, you’ve been playing with shimmery powders on your eyes for minutes now, but you still haven’t explained where the hell you’re going.

“Tell me where you’re leaving to again?” He asks, slightly subtle this time, one brow raising.

“No need to worry, Rafey.” You mutter, your finger swiping over the teal glitter and swiping it over your eye, humming a song.

Rafe sees how relaxed you are, but he’s taking none of it, makes him feel like you’re hiding something, it’s weird, but he wants to keep you controlled.

“Ha,” he scoffs. “real funny, sweetheart, but I actually wanna know where the fuck you’re going.” He tosses his cap on his nightstand, slightly standing up more in the process, arms crossed over his chest this time.

You roll your eyes, groaning as you fix the pigment in you eyes, turning to him with only one eye done. “You’re such — so… nosy.” You comment, scoffing.

“Listen, if you wanna get out of here, better tell me where you’re leaving to.” He stands up now, walking besides your desk as you start doing your other eye.

“Fine,” you humph, stopping what you’re doing to turn back to him. “Going to the beach with Jayj.” You pause, watching his expression. “For a party…”

Rafe raises his eyebrows, you’re going to go out with him, again? Hell no. Rafe doesn’t understand whatever you’re doing, he also doesn’t understand why you still have a friendship with your ex that clearly is trying to find a way back into your pants and specially why you’re so blind not to notice it.

“Are you fucking with me?!” He’s clearly shouting now, leaning in to look at you.

“Why would I be? He’s just a friend…” you mutter, Rafe only seems more startled than he’s been since the beginning of all this.

“A friend that has fucked you before and is trying to fuck you now.” Rafe doesn’t want to explain theses things to you, you should know them.

“Don’t say that… no he isn’t…” you turn to him, all pouty and moody while crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hey, get your pretty little ass to listen to me for a second.” He taps two times with his finger on his forehead, turning your chair so you can listen to him fully. “JJ doesn’t want to party with you, he wants to get you back, and if you think I’m gonna let you, my girl, go out to fall into that.” He holds your hands, bringing them to you cheeks. “Not gonna happen.” He shakes his head.

He pulls you from your seat before letting go of your hands, swiftly picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder.

“Gonna stay right here…” he walks to the bed. “And think about what you did.”

[jolalibrary]

vii. take care of me

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter seven of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. flirting. idiots who are so in love it’s stupid. feelings. smut - p in v. reader has a bad day, soft romantic fucking.

word count: 4.7k

an: the biggest thanks to @thetriumphantpanda who read this before bake off and left me a bunch of comments that made me so excited, you almost had this chapter yesterday.

You had seemed downtrodden before he rocked up and ‘broke a rule’.

His pretence at forgetting all quickly seen through, as though he’s transparent. He had wanted to explain that he had only wanted to cheer you up, but you looked less in the mood for an apology than you did an explanation.

So he swallowed both.

From the middle of the week, he had suspected something was wrong. When he had finally managed to call you, you had sounded so close to tears, that he wondered whether he should drive back sooner.

Especially when you had barely laughed at a joke he made on one of his commutes back to the hotel—barely even answering when he asked it if was his movie choice or yours.

I don’t mind. You always mind. If I remember right, you have a real thing about me always pickin’ the movie, querida. Well, I don’t today, okay? You can pick—I—Frankie, I have to go.

When the end call tone flooded the bed of his truck, he’d strongly suspected that you’d fought your way off the phone with him so you could crumble. Cracking yourself open into a bunch of shards, all pressure-cooked by the weight of everything you take on, only to say you’re fine.

It’s why he had driven past your place the day before he had made plans to see you. Fighting with himself about getting out and going up to your door. Weighing up the options as to whether checking on you tonight or waiting for tomorrow would be best.

Then there was the fact he wasn’t sure if it was as your best friend or as someone who hopes for something more.

The lines blurred, practically erased. A speech is likely needed, but he’s as poor with words as he is with owning how he feels, so it’s easier to stuff them down—to drive away, wait.

It’s why he grabbed it to begin with. Why he’d been grabbing them since you put the darn rule in place anyway. A habit, a part of his routine seeing you—a thing he did to show you that you mattered, were important, cared for.

Which is why he’d wrestled with him again on whether to leave it in the car when he walked up to your front door or not.

“You broke a rule.”

You look glum, defeated. Whatever your working week had done to you, it had stolen more from you than you’d been able to—never mind willing to give.

And it fractured a part of him. Made his shoulders sink, his heart sinks—because nothing hurt him more than the look on your face. The one which should be full of smiles and twinkling eyes.

Kissing your cheek, he closes your front door behind him. “I think you’ll forgive me.”

You just snort. Momentarily smothering the sadness that had been there before he’d showed you the bottle—whatever had upset you buried, all of it being quickly hidden as you placed the wine down and picked up your water bottle.

It forces more confusion to swirl inside of him, more so as you begin to go back and forth with him on food, on what he wants to watch, and whether he wants to share a blanket or have his own.

He replies in his usual tone, even if his attention is split into equal parts—one part focused on the little things you do, the mannerisms you’re not aware to pretend. The other on the IKEA furniture he built, the memories pricking him, needling, making the zipper of his jeans suddenly feel uncomfortable over his cock.

“Work been okay?”

Your mouth falls open, all set to answer, but then something shifts in your eyes. A shadow—possibly—it dancing across the plain, suddenly all but desperate to thump its way out.

Then the words never come. Swallowing instead, discarding whatever you'd been about to say—pushing it back before any lingering parts of it are blinked away as you offer a nod.

“Yeah. Yours?” you answer, but your tone isn’t right.

It’s flat, without its usual infliction. There isn't any edge to your words, nor a tease or taunt, not even a Morales in sight. And, the smile you paint doesn’t quite reach the eyes.

It’s practically humming now, the fact something is wrong. It simmers, hanging around, whistling through the air.

Yet, you don’t break, don’t confess it all to him like you had once done with such ease. Instead, you just smear another smile on your face, nudging him, phone in hand as you mumble about food options and what he wants as you lead him to the sofa.

He knows on the surface, it looks the same—how the night is playing out. But it’s different. In all the ways he doesn’t want to put his finger on, and doesn’t want to acknowledge. Not as you order food, not as you chew the inside of your cheek as you wait for the order to be accepted.

Even less so when you mumble about the film, reaching for your remotes.

It's then he decides what he wants to do is take the remote from your hand as soon as you pick it up. Frankie wants to hold your fingers in his, even place a kiss on your wrist. He wants to place two fingers under your chin, and ask you again to tell him what has happened—wanting to be let him in, be shared with.

He wants you close, and not like friends do. A need to have your head to his chest, his fingers sliding gentle strokes against your cheek and neck, offering comfort, providing it in plenty.

His own head turns the options over, planning it out, trying to guess what the various outcomes are. Which, by the time he reacts, instead of managing to grasp your hand, he knocks the remote from your hand with a clatter.

Ears burning, he feels your glare before he truly appreciates it. It ripples out over him before it’s blinked away—a momentary flood of fire licking at his skin.

In the oddest way, it’s at least reminiscent of the person he knows. The sharpness in your eyes is more a friend to him right now than the gnawing going on in his chest. Especially, while the rest of you is lost to whatever you’re trying to pretend doesn’t exist.

“What?”

It’s simple, one word.

Almost feels normal. It's all sharp and layered, just like it usually is. Followed by your body sinking into the array of cushions you decorate your sofa with as you pull up his pick, rolling your head to him—nail-picking at the battery cover on your remote.

And he wants to ask again—just like he always would have done.

Instead, Frankie places his hand on your knee, thumb and index swirling over the cloth-covered bone as you look at the television briefly, before flicking back to him.

In the silence, it’s louder—the whistling. It's suddenly accompanied by the noticeable noise of your brain whirring, your cogs turning.

“Talk to me,” he whispers, but secretly he's pleading, begging.

He watches as your teeth pick at your lip, snuggling yourself further into the couch—knee abutting his leg as you sigh. “It's... nothing. Can we... can we just watch the movie?”

“Hey, of course we can. Is…”

He can't ask.

Fearful of asking. A lump forms in his throat, sticking, thickening second by second as he flicks his eyes over you.

Before you can blink it away, he spots it again. The shift in your eyes.

This time instead of a shadow, they fill with water. They vanish any part of your truth that wished to escape in its drowning. Before he can poke and push, you blink it away as quickly as it had first arrived.

And it needles him, pricks at his skin and stabs into his chest, twisting and twisting and twisting—

“I just… wanted my best friend,” you mumble.

“That it?”

You seem to fight it, whatever it is inside of you, before you curl against his arm again, tugging your blanket up closer. “I really missed you this week, that's all.”

It’s been on his to-watch list for ages, and yet he’s one hour into it and he has no clue what is happening.

The pizza box is still half-open on the coffee table, your plate still remaining with picked-at food that you never really made any dent in, and he blames that as to why he doesn’t even know who the good guy is and who is bad.

Because all of the parts of his brain that usually begin working on undoing and arranging what he thinks will and is happening, are working in overdrive on you.

It's also stopping his heart from hammering even louder down your ear. Because, even if the two of you have cuddled before—lots of times—it's not been post the whole sleeping together thing.

And, it feels nice having you against him, normal, right.

He likes the way your fingers occasionally clutch him a little closer, head turned in the direction of the television and the movie he should be watching.

Instead, he's piecing together the puzzle you've thrown on the floor. The one without the box lid, so no image to compare it to. Trying to assess where you missing him, lines up with the way your bottom lip almost wobbled as you confessed it, as though it was a sin and not a virtue.

Frankie tries to line it up with the fact he knows whenever he's found a moment to himself, he’s texted you. The sea of other unread messages piling up, collecting.

It adds to the knowledge that all of the normal conversation he has with you, quickly derails, slipping into something foreign yet wonderful. Casual phone calls, divert into him with his hand around his cock, listening to you breathlessly say his name and that you wish he was there.

And that somewhere between collecting the sweet noises you make and those innocent-but-not-innocent moments, are the soft moments he has where you’re resting—where Frankie has realised, decided and accepted, that there is nowhere else he likes being.

Not a single place.

Because he wants this.

Frankie wants the calmer person he is when he's around you, the thoughts which are less intrusive. He likes that the rain barely bothers him when he has you in his arms, that he doesn’t even overthink, if anything he just plans. Considering things, turning them over, thinking of a future that begins to sketch itself out and colour itself in.

Something which has been doing so since the time in the car.

Your words rolling and rolling, stitching themselves to other phrases you’ve let slip, until he’s sewing things together to create a gallery, a museum of moments he loves admiring and replaying when the world goes silent.

That's when he notices the movie, the shit-show of a plan formed involving a helicopter, and the words roll from him without stopping.

"That would never fuckin' happen. Not—can you imagine, if I said to you—" and he rambles. Feels himself doing so. So comfortable and at ease more and more things just flow and fall from his lips.

Even when the scene changes in the movie, more bright light than the softer one from before, forcing him to blink—he is still detailing how inaccurate it is. Only slowing to nothing when he realises you’re looking up at him. Hanging on to every word as though he's a poet reading something beautiful.

He feels the way they tracing him then, lightly glazing over all his features as he slowly holds your stare.

Because it’s the kind of gaze he sees in the movies you make him watch. The lingering ones—a blend of both fiery and craving. It all peppered with yearning, and swirling in so much he suspects you don’t want to say.

“You’re going to miss the movie.”

Blinking, you smile. Feeling you flick your eyes from him to his mouth. “Am I?”

Your smile slides further into your cheek, and he can’t help but brush his thumb over it. A dire need to touch you, brush your soft skin and remind himself how you feel.

He doesn’t expect it, but he likes that you curl into his hand. It allows him to trace his fingers along your jaw, down the side of your neck. Half-expecting you to tell him to stop, that tonight isn’t about that.

You don’t.

Instead, your hand cups his against your cheek, staring at him, lit up by the flickering scenes neither of you are paying attention to.

Faintly, blooming out in the shimmer of your eyes, he thinks he sees it again—what he thinks is adoration. It mixing, blending, swirling with care, love…

“Thought you wanted your best friend?”

“I do,” you say, low, just above a whisper, “So, take care of me.”

A second passes as your words drip into the air.

So take care of me.

His eyes flick over you. Likely needing you to say it again, give permission, tell him you want this.

You do. Fuck you do.

Your heart hammering against your chest like a drum because of it. All unable to speak, fearful, fucking petrified, with how much you want him.

Because all you do is want him, and if you speak, you worry you won’t stop telling him that.

Let it fall, leak. Slip out and stain like oil on a sheet.

Because you know it's only normal to miss him this much for one reason, and one reason alone. It's the same reason why you want him, crave him, and feel so desperate for him that you can’t think or breathe. It is all-encompassing, looming, forever there in between the days you don't see him and the waiting on replies to texts.

It’s so close to your tongue, held back only by your teeth.

It could come out, could escape. So you keep your mouth clamped shut. It is better, easier, and less bothersome than telling him you’ve been counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until you could have your hands on him. Not for this, not because he makes you feel good and beautiful and wanted, but because you feel better. Happier. More you. You feel safe, like no bad work day could ever touch you.

“Querida…”

“I want y—”

The rest of your words are swallowed, stolen. Frankie seals his mouth over yours, barely needing a sentence, just enough.

And it’s searing, full of ache as his hands pull you close, your body singing, itching to come alive—has been since the scent of just him hit your nose.

The worst of days doesn’t matter when he’s around you, less so when his lips marry to yours, when he licks into your mouth, when he breathes you in, and you breathe him.

No one else has ever made you feel like he does.

Not the way your feet almost kick out when his message arrives, a smile gracing your mouth without control when he calls you.

Because he’s different, but then he always has been.

There's always been something, it thriving and growing, embedding vines you pretend are just because you're good friends. But you know, you do. It's hard not to.

Frankie saves you, oblivious to the silent plea for rescue—he just knows. He gets you. Understands every inch of you now, you're unsure how anyone else can ever read you as well. He's someone you could confidently rely on, knowing he’d never leave you alone, not even in the dark—forever a light, a way home.

You think you’re that for him too. Hope so anyway.

He moans your name. Kissing you like he never wishes to stop. He acts like he wants to drown in you, be overflowed by you, and fuck you want the same.

Mine. That’s what you want to say.

Instead, you bury it in a low moan when his mouth captures yours, tongue sliding past your teeth as his hands come to rest on your cheeks. Each touch softer, gentler—from the way he moves his fingers over your cheek, to the way he slides them over your jaw, landing on your neck.

Then, his mouth comes to your ear, breath dancing, all flooded with the flickering television—let’s go to your bed.

He doesn’t rip, he peels your layers off, leaving a trail leading right to your room. He smothers your body with his, his palm remaining flat to your spine, leading, hooking his fingers around the back of your neck as he steers you.

Careful, hermosa.

The consideration dripping from his lips like syrup, all adorned in affection, a taste you have to capture, spinning in his hold, hooking your arms around his neck as you pull him flush, close.

“Tell me you want me,” he hisses.

There's an edge that isn’t usually there but it’s pounding now, all sparkling and fucking shimmering.

You’re more sure of it when he lies you back on your sheets, his mouth exploring, taking his time, taking you to the edge with his mouth as you plead and plead—one hand sliding up over the softness of your stomach, as your back arches into him.

And you shudder, so close to your high—hips held down by his arm. “I want you, Frankie. Always want you. Want you inside of me.”

He pauses—cool air blowing over you as he flicks his eyes up from between your thighs, his skin flushes, a light beading of sweat at his hairline as he comes up onto his palms.

Watching him crawl up you, eyes enamoured, unable to look anywhere else even if they were commanded to. Because he’s more than a sight for sore eyes, he is the sight. He’s the best-looking thing you’ve ever fucking seen, clutching his face in your hands, feeling him drag the head of his cock through your slick walls, staring at you in waiting, like he couldn’t believe this is happening.

“Again,” he asks.

Taking your hand in his, he slots his fingers between yours, fitting, ever so perfectly, before he places your conjoined hands above your head. Eyes tracing up and down your frame, more so as you arch into him, hearing the breathed-out expletive as you wait for his stare to land.

“I want you.”

And, thankfully, Frankie doesn’t let you linger on it. Doesn’t allow you to hyper-focus on it, slowly sliding in, pushing in by inch until you’re full of just him—no more of him left that you can greedily take.

“Always take me so well, baby—“

“Frankie.”

You’re breathless. The air punched from your lungs—his hand remaining knotted in yours, grounding, your nails digging into his skin as his other hand finds a place on the back of your thigh, eyes dropping, all fixated on where the two of you are joined.

“Y'so good for me. Always so good for me,” he adds when his hips are flush with yours. “Take my cock so well.”

Letting his gaze return to you, you’re suddenly so grateful for the bedside lamp you’d left on hours ago because now you get to see him. Admire him, so much so, it makes your throat dry.

Able to watch his muscles contort when he moves, lips parting as he slowly cants his hips into yours, all deep strokes.

And, you know it’s still fucking, but it’s also not.

It’s a unique blend of need that feels right, and also wrong—lips messily finding yours, burying confessions as you eagerly swallow them.

Hoping your throat, lungs or stomach could begin to decipher them as you feel his hand slide down your wrist, and arm until it's cupping your face. His lips slide over your cheek, resting close to your ear, whispering compliments. Because he has to tell you that you’re gorgeous, he says; that you're always so stunning.

Each word that lands has more than an effect on you, as he stutters when you clench around him.

Mouth wrapped around an exclamation of his name as he slides out and sinks back into you.

Frankie has always felt big, but from this angle, like this—he’s somehow deeper, filling you more. He's in your soul. It all filthy and romantic and obscene, but it feels so good, makes heat bloom through your hips and up into your spine, it twisting, eroding the bad day, the bad week.

In a sense, he’s the perfect antidote. A person you trust, care for, lo—

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

Frankie’s hand slides back to grip yours, pressing it down—lightly against the pillow above you, before placing the other beside it. And he’s enveloped in part shadows and the light from the table, blessed in golden hues, giving just enough to see how wild his eyes are and how deep the brown in them goes, how blown his pupils are.

“Do you know how beautiful you look right now?”

You feel your cheeks warm, your ears—every bit of skin on show suddenly inflamed because of his words. His mouth lapping at your breasts, all arched into him, hips steadily meeting his.

“Always are, really.”

“Well. You’re handsome, Morales.”

It’s intentional, adding his surname. Taking the softness out of it, removing what you can, and adding barriers and throwing up walls.

He still sucks in a breath, eyes lingering on yours, fingers dropping to brush a line up and down your cheek as he continues to slide his cock in and out of you. You moan as the head of him keeps kissing that part deep inside you.

It’s different.

You know it; he likely does too. Thankful he slants his mouth over yours. Slowly rocking with you, thrusting into you as you murmur his name, it falling enriched in moans.

From the way you both kiss, to the way you keep an arm around his neck, desperate to keep as much of him against yours.

“You feel so good, Frankie.” Your fingers scratch at the base of his neck. “Always make me feel so full.”

Stuffed really. Packed in. Clenching around him, all tightening, purposefully wrapping your walls around him until he groans right into your ear. Each drag of his cock in and out feeling exquisite, perfect, amazing.

It’s never been like this with others, never been like this even with him. His fucked out face, the grunts and groans coming from deep within make your thighs unable to stop their twitching as fire floods up your spine and the way he plunges you in lust-filled brown.

And you clutch his face, feverish from him, quivering, shaking. Burying the words, “So close, I’m gonna—fuck, I’m close baby,” against his mouth.

Pressing each letter in, stamping it—ensuring he knows it’s him doing this to you. Making a mess of you. The only person you ever want to make a mess out of you.

It thumping inside of you, hammering—all balled up fists and desperation because you want to tell him. Shout it at him. Paint the walls in it as he paints yours in white.

“Need you, Frankie.”

It’s close to the truth. Barely an inch from it.

“I know, need you too. Need to feel you come around me, hermosa. I need it, please. Please give it to me. Let me feel—fuck—feel you coming around my cock.”

And you hear it, the way he pleads—as well as realise the double meaning. You in the car, whispering words so close to the ones he’s spilling now.

“I will if you stay.”

He doesn’t still, but he does jolt. A hesitation in his pistoning.

Then he drops to his elbows around your face, cradling you, caging you in, as he kisses you—sloppily, messily, sweetly. It’s soft, but also full of heavy moans he wishes to force down your throat. It’s indulgent, a thing you never thought you’d have so now you take as much of it as you can get.

“Course I’ll stay. Never—fuck—anywhere I want to be but here, baby. Nowhere else.”

His eyes fix on you, digging the words in.

And, even if you knew it before, you realise how under your skin he is. How he’s woven in around tendons and ligaments, found a home, left marks against your bones you never want to rid.

You’re sure it’s that and not the words which make everything else mute.

Even if it’s all you can hear. Not the television in the other room, not the headboard clattering against the wall, not the sounds you’re making each time he drags his cock through your walls.

Just his words. Whatever he blesses you in. Your thoughts are all incoherent other than that. All shaky, practically vibrating; all gasping and torturous heavy heat, all unable to breathe and yet never wanting any of this to stop.

His hand slides around your thigh, pulling on your knee, bringing it closer as his grip almost grows bruising on you. He’s deep. Fucking into you so hard, hearing the concoction of his hisses, gasps and moans, before his mouth lands back on yours.

It’s overwhelming. The height you’ve reached, the way your mouth is only able to say his name as you watch him lick his thumb and distinctly feel it slide between the two of you. Finding it. Barely struggling to press the pad of it to your bundle of nerves before you lock up, the knot tightening, almost ripping inside of you.

It fraying from how much you’re fighting it, so close to bursting—

Then he draws quicker circles, all persistent, expertly, and you snap.

It surging, all white-hot, all blistering and mind-melting. You become both light and heavy all at once, your nails finding purpose in his side and your sheets, twisting, knotting to root yourself in this, in him—in how much you fucking love him.

“Fuck, querida—that’s it.”

You can’t respond, can’t even think up a response, but you do yank his mouth to yours. Pressing those three words there, laying them down, as well as thanking him, over and over until you slide your mouth against his cheek.

“Be good for me now, Frankie.”

His eyes flick to you, all ablaze and engulfed in want. And so you nod, knowing he can see it, feel it.

“Look so good, baby,” you add.

The noise is strained that comes from him, all sucked in breath. Then, his hips stammer, convulsing, all strangled, tightly entangled in a mess of your name and fuck.

And you kiss him.

Happily licking into his mouth to taste how delicious his moan is.

You try to fight the way your heart drops when you return from using the bathroom. Biting the inside of your mouth as you see the bed empty, sheets a mess, your throat swallowing back whatever sob wishes to escape.

Because the edges of your happiness crumble, your arm wrapping around the other, bottom lip almost wobbling.

That is, until you feel his hand on your lower back. Your head turns quickly, seeing him there. All hair-wild, and soft smile.

“Water, baby?”

Smiling, you thank him, taking several sips before handing it back to him, watching him do the same. Studying the way his throat bobs as he does, the faint marks of your mouth still lingering there on his skin.

“C’mon,” he whispers, kissing your cheek. “Let’s get in bed.”

“Oh, but the—“

“I’ve sorted it. Turned it off—folded the blanket, put the plates in water.” His hand wraps itself around yours. “So, let’s sleep.”

All you can muster is an okay. It leaves soft, slightly webbed at the edges from the way it catches on the growing lump in your throat.

It isn’t until you’re curled against him,

“Is this okay?” you whisper.

He lets out a laugh, little and breathy. “More than okay, hermosa.”

Guiding your leg to hook over his. Keeping his body flush as the two of you cuddle. His thumb swipes across your cheek, forehead close to yours as his fingers fan out over your hip, and he presses a kiss to the space between your brows.

You’re pretty sure your heart just tripled in size.

And those three words, the ones which have amassed into a chunk in your chest have suddenly begun pulsing all on their own—a beat completely separate, you find, to the one which pumps blood around your body.

CHAPTER EIGHT ->

[wangmiao]

From being stuck in the snow together in 2016 to filming Tibetan Sea Flower - Nan Pai San Shu's "Obsession" over Zhang Luyi.

Thank you for noticing my tag in the other post about the friendship between ZLY and CMH, and showing some interest. So here we go! I guess besides why Zhang Luyi (ZLY) was picked, there's also the story about how everything started. I find it rather fascinating. DMBJ's author Nan Pai San Shu, aka Xu Lei (XL) told the story a few years ago, but he mentioned it again during a livestream when Tibetan Sea flower (TSF) just started airing. The next three paragraphs are based on XL's livestream and ZLY's interviews.

Back in 2016, on a very snowy day, XL was on his way to The Mystic Nine's filming location, and was stuck on a mountain road. After waiting for a while, he thought he should go and help direct the traffic. When he got out to do it, he surprisingly found another Good Samaritan already doing what he intended to do, and yes, that Good Samaritan was ZLY.

ZLY was on his way to The Mystic Nine's filming location too. It was actually not XL who picked him for the role of Wu Laogou then. He went to guest star in that show because his university classmate Bai Yicong, the producer of the show, asked ZLY to do him a favor and just stop by to have a meeting with everyone.

So that's how XL and ZLY first met in person. Because they got stuck in the snow for a LONG time, they talked a lot about DMBJ, from Wu Laogou to Wu Xie, and even TSF (ZLY already read some of the DMBJ novels at the time, and he finished all of them before shooting TSF). At some point, XL told ZLY that ZLY's vibe reminded him of a very important character of his, which was Wu Xie. ZLY was very moved and thankful. Since they had such a good long talk, they kind of made a promise to each other that they'd work together on a DMBJ project at some point. They also each made a weibo post about meeting each other as the traffic director in the snow.

In 2017, there was actually quite some rumors about ZLY being approached to play Wu Xie in Sha Hai/Tomb of the Sea (this is not to discredit other Wu Xie actors, because it's normal for a production team to approach multiple actors for a role in the casting stage), but since ZLY had several health issues due to being injured during the filming of another show, he really couldn't be a candidate for the role.

But XL never forgot about ZLY. In 2021, rumors came around again about ZLY being approached to play Wu Xie in TSF, and this time, he agreed.

During the airing of TSF, XL did a lot of livestreams and Q&A sections on weibo. There's one post where he said: "From the state in the beginning, the state of being lost, to the Sha Hai!Xie state in the end, the entire progress is shown in TSF. I needed an actor with extremely good acting skills. From TSF!Xie to Sha Hai!Xie, there're many occasions where Wu Xie's soul is in a dark place and he might fall for his obsession. Besides Pangzi being there to pull him back, it also needs Wu Xie's strong faith and goodness, and I think it needed acting skills to show it."

In another comment to a fan's question about the choice of Wu Xie's actor, XL answered: "Maybe it represents a kind of inner demons", which I think the inner demons part can be translated to obsession.

So you can tell, it does seem that XL had this obsession to have ZLY play Wu Xie no matter what. And he never gave up the idea ever since they first met, even though by the time they could finally work together in 2022, ZLY was no longer in the best age range to play TSF!Xie (hence, sometimes you'd notice those annoying filters used to mask wrinkles on his face).

I really haven't watched all of XL's livestreams and interviews, and from the very few ones I've watched, he mentioned where ZLY impressed him. Before the shooting started, ZLY double checked with XL to see if XL wanted him to play Wu Xie as a more straightforward northerner or gentler southerner (this is not to stereotype, but to reflect the cultural and language difference), and XL reassured him to be a southerner since Wu Xie is a from the south of China. ZLY was no stranger to playing a southerner even though he's a northerner himself, as some of his best characters were from south China. This was why he dropped all his natural Beijing accent, and showed a gentler demeanor (eg. Pangzi is a typical northerner, and CMH kept his Beijing accent).

Another thing is when they were shooting the real and fake Wu Xie scene, it was filmed without any special effects or even an extra actor. ZLY played both characters each time with thin air. It impressed XL a lot because it required so much more finesse and precision on the memory, timing, and movement.

Lastly I want to show you ZLY's goodbye message to TSF that was posted on Sep 24th. He's a very dedicated, sincere, and cultured actor that often uses handwritten stuff to say goodbye to shows nowadays. And he wrote what Wu Xie and Pangzi always say to each other, the good luck and good fortune thing: "Da Ji Da Li, Gong Xi Fa Cai"

Another fun fact is that ZLY is very good at calligraphy. He used to assign different fonts to the characters he played based on their characteristics. Because Wu Xie writes in 瘦金体/Shoujin font, ZLY wrote the message also in Shoujin font. I guess you can say that's another similarity between him and Wu Xie, that they can both write in this font (I'm no expert in calligraphy, so I found an article teaching people how to write in Shoujin font. It was definitely not an easy thing to do because it advised people to learn and practice certain fonts in traditional calligraphy for a few years before even going for the Shoujin font).

Thanks for reading! If you like ZLY's Wu Xie, that's awesome. If not, that's OK. It's totally understandable. Please also know that I have zero intention to compare his version of Wu Xie to other Wu Xies. I'm sure each Wu Xie is awesome, unique, and lovable in his own way.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (v) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : y/n and matt don't have to like each other to continue this thing of theirs, right?

warnings : implications of sex, alcohol, mention of weed, ???

mickey speaks : THANK U FOR THE LOVE ON THIS SERIES!!! sorry if this part feels shorter than the usual !! things get cute in next few parts...

THIS IS PART FIVE GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST OK

"SHE'S sick again?" remi asks, scooting herself further into the booth.

"yeah, i think it's her sinuses or something. she seemed pretty bummed about staying home, i feel awful." andrea pouts while glancing at the menu.

"she's the only person to ever be sick this often in june," remi giggles.

"we should order something to-go for her then. maybe soup?" erin suggests.

"that sounds nice, i'll text her- hopefully she's awake."

౨ৎ

"i can't keep telling my friends i'm sick." you huff as you walk back into your room to find matt redressing.

"why not?" his voice is muffled through his shirt as he tugs it over his head, leaving his hair ruffled.

you lay yourself on your bed lazily, "because they're smart enough to stop believing me soon."

"and why can't they just mind their business?" he looks over to you before reaching down to adjust the white shoes on his feet.

you stretch an arm out to grab your phone from your side table, mumbling, "you must not have friends who worry for you.”

he shakes his head then sighs, “sure, my friends care about me, but they also know when to leave me the fuck alone.”

“right, and my friends know me well enough to know i’m never asking to be left alone.” your comment comes out with more sass than you intended but you know he doesn't understand (or care to understand) your friendships enough to comment on them. then again, you were the one who brought this up in the first place.

"mmm...right. forgot you're just a little insane," he tsks, looking into your mirror and adjusting his shirt some more.

"shut up, matt," you continue staring at your phone, though it's only open to your home screen because you're far more engaged in the conversation than anything your phone could give you. "okay actually, what should i dooo?" you whine.

"i sure as hell won't know?!" his face twists up as he turns to look at you, "you're a smart girl, i'm sure you can figure it out."

you roll your eyes, "'kay... well maybe i've picked up a hobby...like, i dont know, painting! and i just really enjoy painting all alone, 'cause it helps me...focus?"

matt sarcastically laughs through his words, “you’re weird as shit,” he throws your plush throw blanket (that fell on the floor when you pushed matt on your bed just an hour ago) at you. “alright, i’m headin’ out.”

you don’t even give him a second look, “bye.”

౨ৎ

a few cheers of “ayy” and “look who made it” echo out from across the small alley as matt tucks his keys in his front pocket.

he looks over to see chris excitedly pointing at him with an arm hooked on nathan’s neck and another close friend, elijah, sitting on an oversized couch with a smile.

matt chuckles under his breath and walks closer to them, taking in the rowdy and neoned atmosphere of this downtown bowling alley. “what’s good?” he greets his group of friends.

“what’s good with you?” nathan counters with a grin as he moves to dap up matt.

matt shrugs into the handshake as eli begins to speak and stand up, “yeah, where the fuck are you comin' from?”

“home. don’t worry about it,” matt defends as his tongue guides over his hidden smile with a loose shrug of a shoulder.

“nooo! just say it how it is, matt,” chris says through a bite of nachos, “you slept in late and forgot about boys night, big fucking deal. you’re here now!” he throws his hands up before letting them fall to his sides dramatically.

matt slowly nods his head in sarcastic agreement as he faces his friends, "he's right."

he almost wants to laugh at the fact that chris actually believed his fake-sleeping enough to let him off the hook for "forgetting" their group hangout.

cameron wanders over to the group after taking his turn bowling, “‘kay, nate it’s your turn.” he then quips his chin up with a sudden grin, "hey, matt! about time you showed."

"better late than never," he breathes before joking, "you know i had to let you guys get at least a round in before i got here to start dominating."

“the word choice is a bit insane,” nick exaggerates as he approaches with arms full of bottled water and soda cans, "how about you go get your fucking shoes before you make that kind of claim." he moves around matt to place drinks on the coffee table (decorated with various bowling ball and pin themed clutter that made nick way to happy when first seeing it).

elijah places a hand on matt's shoulder, "i'll come with you, matt."

౨ৎ

"sick baby, i'm home nowww!" andrea yells from the front door.

you mentally gather yourself to continue your deception. you add weight to your eyelids, purposely making them droop and make your voice extra scratchy, as if you'd only just awoken.

andrea's at your door quickly, only tapping it slightly open, not wanting to blind you with the harsh yellowed lighting of the hallway. "hi, you up?"

you tussle under your comforter and give a small nod, "mhm."

"do you think you're like, contagious? i have your soup here and really wanna tell you some shit about tonight." she smiles warmly.

"no you're fine. please come in, i've been all alone and bored as hell," you rub your eye softly for effect.

you feel pretty guilty about this whole thing but you aren't hiding anything tragic from her. and this "illness" hasn't ruined that many hangouts...only the one's that happen to fall on days matt texts you.

"i hate to see my favorite bitch down like this, this soup better make you feel better immediately." she sighs as she comes into your room, noisy plastic bag in hand.

"i know," you lift yourself to sit up against your headboard as she sits next to you, "think i should be all better soon. i can't miss another shift at the bakery."

you were never missing work for matt, but to cover your ass you did miss a day or two of work to show your friends just how "sick" you were. if you were sick enough to stay home from work you surely were sick enough to avoid a girls night or two. but you guess it technically does come down to matt...unfortunately.

"yeah, i'm sure mr. houffman will lose it of you call off again," she giggles, sifting through the bag for your soup and silverware.

౨ৎ

barely a week later and you're feeling the best you have in a while, with the guilt of pretending to be sick no longer following you.

it's the fourth of july so there was absolutely no way you'd be continuing that act. you weren't missing out on a holiday with as many parties as this one.

and when chris asked andrea to get the girls to come party hop for the night, you told her yes immediately.

you're currently sat atop a random kitchen counter as nick moves around to make a concoction cocktail for you. you lean back on your hands to watch as he uses a knife to slice a small lime as garnish. "wow you really have an eye for this shit, nick," you laugh at his focused stare (he tries to compensate for any drinks he's had so far, not wanting to slice a finger off).

"i guess i'm just a natural!" he exclaims as he places the lime on the rim of the plastic cups, "okay, one for you," you take it from him, "and one for me." he grins at you.

"cheers!" you motion your drink towards him and he echoes you before you both take large sips.

your eyes pinch before they grow wide, "...why's it actually...good?" you laugh.

"you bitch! you thought i'd give you a shitty drink?!" he giggles and goes for another sip of his own.

"it's not that-"

you're cut off by matt's voice, "alright, time to dip. everyone's sayin' this place is really weird."

you both look over at him with his mellow attitude and perfectly organized outfit (so that he'd 'have all the colors but not look like a walking american flag'). "what? this place has been a good time so far! right, nick?"

"suppperrrr fun. maybe it's a you problem, matt." he jokes.

"come on, chris is the one who sent me to get you two. you know i would've left you both a few houses back." he teases.

you slide off of the counter easily, "okaaay," you look into his eyes and pat his chest twice mumbling, "someone needs a smoke break," before walking off in search of the door.

"wait y/n!" nick grabs a few sealed jello shots from an ice bucket nearby before rushing after you.

though he doesn't catch up to you before matt does, grabbing your hand, "you don't even know where the fuck you're going."

you breathe out defeated, "i'm sure i could've figured it out. i don't need you bossing me around."

matt pouts with squinted eyes and his head tilted, "sure."

nick comes up to you, continuing to stuff the shots into his jort pockets, "do these shorts make my ass look fat?" he turns to show you his side profile (already giggling before the punchline of his joke lands) that showcases the multiple items shoved into his back pockets and protrude out in awkward shapes.

you and nick both fall into a laughing fit and matt only ghosts a smile at his brother's stupidity before tugging your hand towards an exit. "wait! here, hold this please," you hand your drink to matt and reach your hand out for nick's. when he takes your hand willingly you raise your conjoined hands with a smile, "aw, we're like a little train!"

nick adds to the joke by pretending to be a conductor, exclaiming all the cliche lines he knows to make you laugh.

matt finally pushes a front door open, the warm summer air finally surrounding you once more. the rest of the group chatter along the sidewalk across the street. "my friends!" nick yells.

the three of you make your way down the wooden stairs (that seem to be steeper when going down than they were to walk up), and once you're in the grass your hand drops from matts's as nick drags you across the street quickly to crash into your friends.

remi's face is annoyed and confused at first but changes immediately when she recognizes your face. she throws her arms around you for a hug, "y/n! you were found!" you laugh into her neck as she sways back and forth.

"okay guys i'm thinking we hit up the place that the end of this block, right there. they've got some crazy lights goin' on so it should be fun." chris points in the direction and looks to the group for opinions.

"yeah! let's do it!" nate encourages.

the group begin to walk down the sidewalk (and slightly into the grass) lined with miniature american flags and past the many houses full of people and decorated with fairy lights and expensive garland.

naturally, everyone gravitates into cliques due to the amount of small conversations happening at once.

"that's unreal!" erin adds while hanging her arm on your shoulder, as you both listen to remi's dramatic retelling of some guy's awful flirting with her.

"i''m so over these trash ass men," remi shakes her head.

"tell me about it," erin sighs, rolling her eyes.

just as you begin to add your own opinion, matt taps your shoulder. he seems to always find a way to interrupt you. you glance behind you and see him holding your cocktail from earlier up.

"oh thanks, i forgot you had that," erin leans off of you to give you space to turn around and grab it.

though her eyes linger on matt for a second too long causing him to send her a smile and raise his eyebrows slightly in awkward question.

you feel the tension bite at the air around you and in hopes of escaping it, you turn back around and prompt remi with a new topic to discuss.

only, now you miss when erin gives matt a second glance back- and this time she offers a gentle wave and smile to him, in truce.

౨ৎ

after a few more stops at parties (you all got a little greedy about the free drinks and food which brought three extra "one more"s before deciding to cut it off), you all head to a nearby park to end the night with a firework show.

it was surprisingly well organized, with blankets already laid out around the large grassy area so that anyone could sit and watch whether they'd planned to or not.

the night has started to get the slightest bit cooler which was much needed after such an eventful three hours, leaving everyone exhausted in their comfortable spots; chris resting his head against andrea's full thighs, you next to her with your legs sprawled and arms extended behind you, nick and nathan both sat with their legs crossed, admiring the bright fireworks despite nick's flinching every-so-often.

the blanket next to you hosts erin, remi, matt, and cameron. all laying out as they laugh and talk, which you assume comes from a combination of the edibles they'd all taken at one of the parties and remi's addictingly outgoing nature that can force anyone to want to talk to her.

the booming fireworks go on for another twenty minutes before dying down and leaving the crowd in the dark, smokey air.

as you adjust to standing and take out your phone to use as a makeshift flashlight, you read the most recent of your many notifcations:

MATT - 12:36 AM

you down to paint after this???

you bite at your freshly chapped bottom lip before looking over to matt, who's currently using his hands obnoxiously to explain something he's clearly passionate about to cameron.

you sliently sigh before replying:

YOU -12:47 AM

sure

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper @deadxrx @breeloveschris @saintsturn @honestlybabymiracle @hearts4chris @starrysturniolo @blissfulbellss @aoxash

[bumblebeehug]

Hike in Heels

Summary: Natsu takes Lucy on a surprise trip to Hargeon, where they relive their first encounter. Notes: (At the end) Ao3

***

“Please, please, PLEASE, let me take a break!” Lucy almost sobbed as she took another step. A two-day trip to Hargeon was not the best way to break in her new heels, and she honestly never would have picked those shoes if she knew that the “quick walk” Natsu had been talking about, was in fact a hike and not a leisure stroll. 

“Come on, you already know that it’s only another 30 minutes, you can manage!” Natsu slowed down briefly at first but came to a complete halt when he looked down at Lucy’s foot, that she was now massaging tenderly. They had a scary amount of red, inflamed looking blisters, and he almost winced at the sight. 

“Does it look like I’ll manage?” Lucy sneered back. Natsu frowned at her foot at first, for making Lucy suffer, and then at the shoes that were the very cause of her suffering. 

“Hop on my back,” he said, crouching down in front of her. Lucy would normally decline offers like that, but she had already used up too much of time on Horologium’s schedule, so borrowing him for a ride wouldn’t be possible, and though she could walk barefoot the last bit, her feet could really need the relief from all the pressure. That, and the path they were walking on had surprisingly sharp pebbles – something she learned from another unfortunate pick of footwear. 

“Thanks,” she mumbled, annoyed that her pride had even allowed her to get her feet this bad in the first place. Had she asked him for his help earlier, she would probably have only half the number of blisters that she currently was cursed with. If only Wendy or Shelia was nearby to relieve her from it. 

After climbing onto Natsu’s broad back, they were once again on their way. The immediate relief from pressure helped Lucy truly relax, urging her to use Natsu’s left shoulder like a pillow. He could act really heroic when he wanted to. That’s of course until he starts complaining about her weight, which he usually would do as soon as she mounted him. Though, today he’s unusually quiet, leaving the air around them only filled with the sounds of his rhythmic steps against the gravel and the birds chirping. 

“Why are we even going to Hargeon in the first place?” Lucy asked for the tenth time this day, knowing she probably wouldn’t get a proper answer, but still hoping that she was wearing that secretive shield down. 

“I told ya’ it’s a secret,” Natsu answered, still not faltering. At this point Lucy didn’t know whether she should be excited or worried for this trip – for all she knew, a horribly embarrassing job with little to no pay could be waiting in the town they were heading towards. That, or Lucy had once again underestimated Natsu’s kindness, and some nice surprise was waiting for her. You never knew when it came to Natsu. 

Perhaps that unpredictable nature was part of why Lucy still felt like their friendship was as fresh as it only could be in the beginning – in its honeymoon phase, one might say. They never tired of each other, not really, despite what it might seem like when Lucy kicked him and Happy out of her apartment for the hundredth time in a week, or when she scolded them twice that amount. When they first got to know each other, the small fights were actually based on real discomfort – who wouldn’t be shocked when a guy you practically just met used your bath with his winged blue cat without even locking the door? Though as the time went on, her crazy reactions felt more like acting, rather than something based on true discomfort. She would put on her loud voice, yell out something witty and then a ‘get out!’ and then watch as Natsu and Happy would giggle while scrambling to her hallway, and she’d watch them do this with a smile on her face. It was their running gag, something that reminded them of where they started and where they are now. 

Well, unpredictable friendship or not, Lucy wasn’t sure if this little hiking trip Natsu had brought her along to was worth it. Those blisters already looked unreasonably red and angry, and they sure felt like they were angry too, stinging even at small winds. 

“You know I won’t be able to fight properly like this, right?” Lucy told Natsu, kicking her feet in front of him. 

“Well, you won’t have to fight.” 

“Hah! I got a clue!” Lucy burst out, celebrating her success at wearing him down. “So, no fighting… Does that mean I’m just here for company for a job? Or maybe the job just requires one of my spirits… or! Maybe we’re just here for a retreat!” 

Natsu sighed and readjusted his hold of her. He had accidentally told her just a little too much – not enough for her to figure it out, but still enough for her to speculate. He was fine with her talking, but he was a little afraid she’d make him say too much again, maybe even make him spill everything, and then he’d let all his work to keep the secret go to waste. 

“Not telling,” he just told her, trying to keep his ground. He made his mind up to only answer her if she talked about unrelated topics – otherwise he would definitely spill everything. Luckily for him they would reach the edge of the town in just 10 minutes as long as he kept a good walking speed. 

“Don’t you think you owe me a proper clue? After all, you didn’t tell me that we were going to walk for hours! I would have changed shoes if I’d known, you know!” Lucy poked Natsu’s cheek repeatedly. Maybe she could annoy an answer out of him. 

“I already gave ya’ one,” Natsu tried. 

“Noooo, I decided that it was a clue, you didn’t give it to me out of free will!” 

“So you want another clue?” 

“Yes!” 

“Well, my clue is that you won’t have to fight.” Lucy pouted. 

“You already gave me that clue.” 

“So you admit it was a clue?” 

“Natsu!” 

*** 

“I can’t believe you won’t tell me anything!” They had finally arrived, and Lucy was walking barefoot on the cobblestone paths that covered the coastal town. She had insisted on walking by herself when they started meeting people on the way, saying something about it being embarrassing to be carried when she was a mage with reputation. Natsu couldn’t understand how being carried would affect her rep, since she was in a team that destroyed everything in its path, but he complied. 

“I just think you’re making it bigger than it is,” Natsu shrugged. His surprise wasn’t really that big, and this build up certainly wasn’t giving him any favours. 

“I’m not making it bigger than you are. You’re the one that won’t tell me about this small surprise.” Natsu knew that Lucy was stubborn, but this was reaching new heights. 

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you!” he once again defended himself. “I just don’t want you to think it’s some amazing, cool thing and then be all disappointed.” 

“I’d never be disappointed,” Lucy promised. She knew however that Natsu didn’t believe her – he had that peculiar look on his face that showed when he was doubting something. They continued this bickering for a few minutes, until Natsu finally came to a halt. 

“We’re here.” Lucy looked around. The street was familiar – if she remembered correctly, this was the street where that wizard, Bora, had been scamming people. Which also, coincidentally, was the street where she and Natsu first met. 

“Hey, I remember this,” Lucy said, not concealing the fondness in her voice. “This is where we met for the first time.” Lucy was smiling, and Natsu already felt like he had succeeded. For him, the hours of complaints were all worth it as long as she had this expression. But he knew Lucy would be annoyed if they had gone all this way just for a tiny peek into memory lane. 

“Do you remember that there was this big crowd of girls just over there?” Natsu smiled. 

“Yes, and I was in it.” A small grimace crossed Lucy’s face, until she started talking again. “I was completely charmed by Bora. Or, well, his ring at least.” 

“The great salamander and his charms.” 

“But hey, I did get to meet the real salamander! He was just naïve enough to think that Bora was a dragon in the middle of the town.” 

“How was I supposed to know?” Natsu defended himself. Lucy raised her eyebrows. 

“A dragon? A huge, fire breathing dragon, smack down in a town with crowded buildings and humans everywhere? It didn’t take a genius to figure out that things weren’t adding up.” 

“Hey, me not being a genius led to us meeting. I wouldn’t change that, ya’ know.” Another soft expression graced Lucy’s face, and he had to hold back from giving her a big hug. “Anyways, I thought we could stay here for the weekend. I’ve booked a room, and just across the street there’s a place that’s got lots of cheap food!”

“You really thought this through, didn’t you?” Surprise didn’t begin to describe how Lucy currently felt. She didn’t think that Natsu would be so perceptive, though if she actually thought back she should have known. He had always been sentimental, if that wall of memorabilia had anything to show for. Hell, he even got himself a mannequin so he could display the maid outfit Lucy had dressed up in, way back for their first mission. Naturally he’d remember the date and location of their very first meeting.

“Since I prepared all this I’ll let you pay for the food,” Natsu said, snickering at her with a sinister grin. Right. There’s the catch.

Though since there wouldn’t be any crazy amounts of orders on raw fish, calculating the lack of exceeds in the company, maybe the bill wouldn’t be too severe. And with exceeds on the topic, Lucy sort of missed having the blue pal around. She could name a thousand annoying traits Happy possessed, but when it came down to it she wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world. He was her best friend, they bantered and had fights, sure, but the bond she shared with him was irreplaceable. Which is why she felt like there was a void present - they were missing a part of their team.

Lucy hadn’t gotten any explanations on why Happy wasn’t around today, but she knew that Natsu knew. Hadn’t he known, he would have complained the entire outing. Still, Lucy was curious about what kept Happy away today.

“Where did you say Happy was today by the way?” She had first asked him an hour into their impromptu hike, but had only gotten a vague mumble as an answer. This time she was ready to drill him – after all, she was paying for their food.

“Oh he had this… thing? With his parents and the rest of the exceeds. I don’t remember what exactly.” Lucy found his answer a tiny bit suspicious, but didn’t dig deeper. Surely there was a reason behind the vague answer – maybe Natsu had promised to keep a secret. Happy had recently gotten more serious about his feelings towards Carla, so maybe it was related to that.

“Right,” Lucy said, now feeling her stomach rumble. “So are we checking in at the Inn or eating first? I’m starving, but I think I’d like to freshen up a bit before we go eat.”

“Yeah sure, let’s make a stop at the room.” Natsu’s compliance was also a bit suspicious, Lucy thought. Though she didn’t mind it of course – maybe this was a part of the anniversary treatment.

She should have known something was up when Natsu had booked the room. The Inn was nice and clean, the staff was nice and she was delighted to hear that breakfast was included, but the first red flag was when there was only one room key. Lucy’s face had turned a light shade of pink at the thought of sharing a room – not because she wasn’t used to it at home, but because of the implied intimacy between her and Natsu. They were known to be “only friends” back in Magnolia, people barely batted an eye when they did almost-coupley-things (like walking home with arms linked, always sleeping at Lucy’s apartment, Natsu resting his arm on Lucy’s shoulders at the farmer’s market – all things that had been written about, and then been unbunked in Sorcerer’s Weekly), but in Hargeon their unique friendship wasn’t as widely known. So when the receptionist smoothly added that all their rooms were sound proofed, Lucy could only smile politely and nod.

The room itself was as stunning as the rest of the Inn. It was embellished with cute, golden, swirly details in every corner of every object, and the walls had a stunning tapestry with light blue flowers scattered across an eggshell-white base. There was a body length mirror with a dark wooden frame just to the left as you walked into the room, and to one of the walls there was a pretty wooden dresser. Everything looked handmade, and Lucy couldn’t help but awe at every detail.

See, the room was so pretty that Lucy hadn’t noticed that there was only one bed. When she did notice, it was only because she was admiring the bed frame – of which there was only one. Had she turned light pink before, she could guess that she was sporting a rosy red on her cheeks now. Truth was, she and Natsu had never shared a bed alone in another place than her apartment. Happy had always been a barrier between them, even when a similar occasion had occurred with there only being one spare room for the night. This time however, Lucy and Natsu hadn’t arrived with a third party. And this time, the room wasn’t the “only one available”. Natsu had been the one who booked it, and he clearly didn’t care about their reputation.

This entire thought process had taken maybe a second in the real world. See, Lucy didn’t really believe that Natsu didn’t care about “reputation” and silly things like that. She knew that Natsu didn’t see this sleepover as anything different than when Happy was around, and how the Inn-staff interpreted their relationship was simply not in Natsu’s equation. He had just wanted to make this a memorable trip, and sharing a room was just more economical, and really the only reasonable option when it came to the two of them. They were already sharing Lucy’s twin-size bed at home, so why bother booking two separate rooms when Natsu probably would end up in Lucy’s bed no matter what.

So with a deep breath, Lucy turned around and grabbed her bag where she kept her necessities.

“I’ll take a quick shower, is that fine with you? Or do you need the toilet?” Natsu could see a quite violent blush on Lucy’s cheeks as she tried to act unfazed. He covered up an amused smile with a yawn.

“No, you go ahead.” As Lucy closed the door he allowed himself to chuckle. She was really an open book.

***

“Good evening! Table for two under the name Dragneel?” A chipper waitress welcomed Natsu and Lucy into the restaurant. It was one of the perks of being a well known face in Fiore.

“Yes please,” Lucy said, minding her manners more than usual. She had thought that Natsu would leave the food aspect to Lucy, since he had joked around about her paying for him, but to her surprise he had led her here – to a nicer restaurant than they usually ate at. Well, they usually ate what they hunted in the woods, but even when they went through towns on missions they normally ended up in some cheap diner. This place was no five stars, but it was more than she had expected. She almost felt a bit self conscious in her simple dress.

The two of them were led to a table by a window that had the perfect view of the harbour.

“Hey that’s where we met for the second time!” Lucy exclaimed, pointing towards the horizon. “I thought you were such a loser for getting seasick,” she snickered, giving Natsu a provoking poke on his arm. He was nicely dressed up, wearing a navy dress shirt and black tailored pants.

“And I thought you were stupid for falling for Bora’s trick twice,” Natsu joked back with a smirk. Then he surprised Lucy for the third time in one day, fourth if you count his nice clothes. “We’ll take a bottle of the house’s red, assuming you want a meat dish?”

Lucy almost dropped her jaw, only giving a dumbfounded nod as an answer. As the waitress fetched their first order Natsu started to browse the menu.

“Hey what on earth was that? Who taught you wine-etiquette?”

Natsu shrugged his shoulders.

“This lamb looks good, doesn’t it?”

Lucy scoffed, but she was honestly impressed. It showed that Natsu had put a lot of thought into this day, even if he had played it off as a simple trip down memory lane. She opened her own menu and gave it a quick scan. He was right, the lamb did look really good, but at a closer look she could name multiple meals Natsu would prefer – he had mentioned the lamb as a recommendation to her.

“Yeah, I think I’ll take the lamb,” she slowly said. “What are you having?”

“The firecracker beef,” he said, pointing at the five chilli peppers on the side of the dish, symbolising how hot it was.

“Oh, fun!” Lucy praised.

As they waited for their wine they fell into a comfortable silence. Lucy had a million things to say, to commend him for. Well, minus one since she still felt her feet ache from the long walk. However, as soon as the waitress had taken their new orders, Natsu spoke up.

“This is a special town, dontcha think?” Lucy nodded. “I know Erza, Gray and Lisanna told you already, but before I met you I was really grumpy.”

“You don’t say?” Lucy giggled, thinking back on his curt behaviour before they formed a team.

“Hush,” he smiled, “I’m going somewhere with this.” Lucy made a zipping-motion with her hand over her mouth, and let him continue. “Anyways, I was a real bad-tempered kid, didn’t exactly like to hang around people other than Happy, and well, he’s a cat.”

Natsu seemed different today. Other than his odd sentimentality, Lucy thought he looked mature in his proper clothes, with a glass of red wine in front of him. Had she thought two times further she’d get flustered by how much this dinner seemed like a fully fletched date. Luckily Natsu continued speaking before she got there.

“There were all kinds of circumstances that made me behave that way, but in hindsight I kinda boil it down to searching for Igneel and losing Lisanna. Either way, I was having a tough time back then, especially when guild members didn’t take my search for Igneel seriously. Though, it was thanks to them we even met at all, since I followed one of the leads.” Natsu started looking around, losing the thread. “Well, I guess I wanna say I’m sorry for acting like a brat back then, I was really dismissive of you despite how friendly you were. Hell, you even got me and Happy lunch, we were seriously saved, I had to spend that lunch money on an extra train ticket.” He gave up a pained laugh from the memory of being stuck on that train ride. Lucy was amused by the picture he painted – even back then he didn’t manage motion well. It was sort of comfortable to know that some things would never change, no matter the adventures they went through.

“Either way, I would not change a single thing that day, the extra train ride made me meet you! Though meanwhile you were getting charmed by Bora.” He once again laughed at the memory – her eyes had practically been hearts. “And look what I brought, by the way!” From the backpack he had carried (against Lucy’s wishes) he pulled out the white cardboard paper that was signed by Bora, or Salamander as he had conned people to believe back in the day. Lucy yelped.

“I can’t believe you kept that! Eugh, it still gives me the creeps,” she shuddered and showed her arm where goosebumps had appeared. Natsu just laughed loudly – a heartfelt laugh that Lucy had heard countless times before but never got tired of hearing.

“What can I say, it’s a souvenir!” He was still laughing when he put it back into his backpack.

“Gross,” she muttered, but a smile was creeping across her face. She could never stay upset, even on pretend, when he laughed like that.

“Anyways, I just thought I’d tell you my side of the story of how we met. Though, you know the basic facts already. I just remember thinking that you were really weird.” Natsu was leaning his forearms on the table, suddenly feeling very close.

“I knew that much already,” Lucy teased. She was no longer fazed by his “weird”-accusations – they kind of cancelled out when you considered who was speaking.

“Yeah, well that wasn’t all I thought of you.” Lucy’s interest was piqued. Natsu’s eyes were dark in the dim light, and though his mouth was turned to a smile, he looked very serious. “Other than weird, I found you dumb, for paying for my food, loud, for how you spoke while paying for my food, endearing for how you spoke about Fairy Tail.”

Lucy felt her face get warmer. He had told her that she was weird, dumb and loud before – all while joking of course, but she had never heard him call her endearing.

“Then, when we met for the second time during the same day, I thought you were special. Then I got motion sick, so I mostly felt nauseous,” Lucy giggled before he continued, “but when you brought out Aquarius and helped me out, I knew you were special. I had never seen anyone converse with their magic the way you always have – mostly literally, but also figuratively. Happy told me the same night that he saw you find Aquarius key almost telepathically after you dropped it in the ocean. We both knew you were special. Are. You are special.” 

Lucy felt like her face was on fire at this point. She had never heard Natsu be so straightforward before. It was strange, in a very good way.

“Oh Natsu, gosh, I don’t know what to say,” she breathed. It was rare to hear these sorts of words from anyone, aside from maybe Loke. “You flatter me.” She laughed, fanning herself to cool her head.

“I don’t do it nearly often enough,” Natsu argued boldly, only making Lucy blush more. “It’s just, I have so much to thank you for. My life has been pretty awesome if I may say so, but the truth is, it’s all thanks to you. I wouldn’t have had the amazing team I have today, I wouldn’t have made it out from any of the countless life threatening situations I’ve been in, if you weren’t there to save me. I owe everything to you.”

“That’s my line,” Lucy smiled, holding back tears of gratitude. “I would have roamed the streets still if we hadn’t met.”

Natsu smiled. “I doubt it. I would have picked you up along the way a hundred times if I could.”

Lucy snorted.

“That’s an awful pickup line!”

“Yeah, that was bad, wasn’t it?” He grimaced. “Though I can’t stop it with the sappy stuff until I finish what I started saying earlier.”

“About what you thought of me when we first met?” Lucy asked. She had sort of mastered the art of following Natsu’s train of thought, so she was spot on.

“Right, I think I mentioned weird, dumb, loud, endearing and special.” He regained his serious look, the one that made Lucy feel like she was the only one in the room, nay, the world, that mattered. “I also remember thinking that you were, and are, pretty.”

If Lucy could burst into flames of embarrassment, she would have. Except, she couldn’t say anything. If she said anything, she would wake up from this wonderful dream, and everything would go back to normal.

“I don’t tell you nearly enough,” Natsu said with a sheepish look. He was blushing for the first time since he got into puberty. It would take a lot for him to repeat these words. It was somehow comforting to hear Lucy’s heartbeat patter like a scared rabbit – like she didn’t hate hearing it from him, rather, the opposite.

It was however even more comforting to be interrupted by plates of food arriving. It was a natural ice breaker after the hot tension Natsu’s sentence brought. Lucy could utter a thanks to the waiter, and when her seal was broken, so was Natsu’s. Except, they didn’t address the elephant in the room. Natsu had called Lucy pretty, and Lucy liked hearing him say it. If any of them even mentioned it they feared a bomb would set off - a bomb they would have to clean up after in public. It was a silent agreement that they wouldn’t mention it before they were alone. Meanwhile, they had food to eat and a bottle of wine to finish.

***

The walk back to the Inn was quiet. Lucy walked slowly, partly to not strain her feet, but also because she needed the air to cool her head. Natsu naturally adapted his step to hers. Once they had walked in their own paces, unapologetically, but since quite some time back it had gone without saying that they were meant to be by each other’s side.

Natsu glanced over to Lucy. She had her eyes turned towards the skies, as she usually did when the sun had gone down. It was like she was acting on instinct, searching for the small, twinkling stars that were her good friends. Today however the lights in the town dulled the night sky, to both of their disappointment. Lucy’s skin had a special glow at night. It was like she was meant to be looked at by the moon, because Natsu could swear he saw a light sparkle, almost too faint to be there at all. Even the man in the moon showed Lucy his best side, Natsu realised, and felt his heartstrings tug. What a woman he had met.

If he looked into her eyes at night he could see the stars reflect in them. It looked like the night sky was swimming in dark chocolate, doing their best to stay afloat in her deep gaze. And not to mention how her light blush from the cold made her look ethereal, how her lips turned into a light purple when they no longer had the warm light of the sun shining on her, and how her golden hair almost turned white, following the colours of the sun and the moon on the night sky.

Calling her pretty was an understatement, yet it seemed like she didn’t really believe him when he had told her. At that realisation, Natsu got an overwhelming urge to tell her again. He wanted to tell her how gorgeous she was, inside and out, and he wanted to hold her tight and never let go. Carefully, he grazed his finger on her hand. Light enough to seem like an accident, put listening closely to the signs she gave. If she pulled away, so would he. Except, she didn’t. So he grazed it again, this time longer, making his intentions clear. Still, no movement from her, aside from the slight bobbing of their walk. On his third attempt he carefully braided their fingers together, relishing in the cool temperature of her soft, small hand in his.

He glanced over at her again, trying to read her emotions. She seemed happy, like he had just told her she would never have to pay rent again in her entire life. He caught himself with the same stupid smile, and decided to only look on the road ahead from now on. Whether he decided literally or metaphorically, he didn’t yet know.

***

Lucy was sweating. She cursed herself for it, because when Natsu had taken her hand, he had seemed so nonchalant, just acting like it was the most natural thing for the two of them in the world. And the fact that he hadn’t let go of her hand when they entered the Inn made Lucy beyond flustered. She had held his hand before, in fact, she had held it many times before. None that had felt so meaningful though. The light touches before he actually grabbed her hand, the way he had held it like it was the most fragile, yet important hand in the universe – the intention had felt romantic. And that’s when the day caught up to her.

Natsu’s nostalgia-trip had been like a weekend retreat for couples. It had felt like a long date, with marriage in mind. Though of course she didn’t think he’d propose – even he knew there were steps to take beforehand in their relationship, but today had indeed felt like a long list of steps to take before a proposal. Not that it felt staged in any way, but it was clear that he was advancing their relationship, whether he knew it or not.

Eventually Natsu had to release Lucy’s hand. He wasn’t successful in finding the key with one hand, so reinforcements were necessary.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Lucy said her first words in 30 minutes.

“I’ll just take a shower.”

And 10 minutes later, Natsu copied her.

When Natsu came out of the bathroom, they were both still in their bath towels. Lucy had managed to dry her hair halfway, but didn’t get farther before Natsu suddenly was standing in the archway between the bedroom and the hallway, his towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. She quickly turned off the hairdryer.

“So which sides did we settle on?” She kept the topic safe, or, at least as safe as it could be when she soon was to share bed at an inn, with no one present but her and her crush.

“Whatever you prefer,” Natsu answered. He would cling to her no matter which side they were lying on.

With all safe conversation topics exhausted, Lucy swiftly changed into her pyjamas. Natsu was lucky that she always carried her essentials – toothbrush, hairbrush, moisturiser, a couple of panties and a tank top, because otherwise she would either have to sleep in her outside clothes, or naked – both terrible options in Lucy’s opinion.

Natsu had known what the weekend had in store, but he hadn’t felt compelled to pack a pair of pyjamas anyways. A pair of boxers were enough in his opinion. As soon as he turned off the lights, he joined Lucy in bed. Once again he found himself looking at her in the dark. This time the light was so faint he could barely make out her contours, but he saw her there anyway. Her bangs had fallen to the side of her head, and he saw her entire forehead. It felt holy, in a way, because when he saw her wholly he felt like he could see everything about her. Her thoughts, her opinions, her memories. He knew that he couldn’t tell her this, because Lucy would think he was making fun of her big forehead. Little did she know that all his teasing, all his little jokes, were based in admiration. He had to keep talking to her to convince himself he was speaking with a human, and not an angel.

That’s when she opened her eyes and met Natsu’s gaze. At first Lucy’s heart skipped a beat – she hadn’t been prepared to be so intensely stared at. But then she allowed herself to be. She thought, just because she could see him watch her, it didn’t mean he saw her any differently to when she was unaware he was looking. And even if he understood her differently, did that telepathic thing where they spoke through glimpses and glances, he still saw the same woman he had always seen.

“What are you thinking about?” Lucy dared to ask, in a voice that barely counted as a whisper. He had been looking so intensely, like there was no tomorrow, yet he had an indescribable look on his face. Like he was troubled and content all at the same time. Stuck in admiration and puzzling.

“That you’re pretty,” Natsu said. And it was true. The way Lucy looked in the darkness, when Natsu barely could make out her shape, was captivating. He could easily lighten up the place with his fire, make every pore in her face visible as day, but barely seeing her was seeing her in a new light. He couldn’t get enough of her. It was like he was seeing her for her – not in the lights and shadows of a campfire in the woods, not under the light of her booklamp that she used every night. She wasn’t reflecting any light at all - yet somehow she was. If it was the faint light from one or two stars that peeked out behind the curtains, or if it was the faint glow of her own magic power, Natsu didn’t know. All he knew was that he couldn’t get enough of her. He had to feel her, taste her.

So he did.

He started with feeling. Grabbed her hand, this time with more determination. He grabbed it with both hands under the blanket, tracing her joints and feeling her smooth fingernails. It felt surreal to be touching this work of art he was watching. Then he traced up her arm, along her shoulder and neck, and soon enough he was tracing her face. Feeling the soft, thin skin across her eyelids, brushing up her eyelashes. Feeling her breath under her nose, the warmness of her lips. With every light brush his fingertips made, the more of her he smelled. He didn’t know if it was some sort of instinct, that he could smell her better the closer they were emotionally, all he knew was that he almost went dizzy from the sweetness, the realness she smelled. “Bunny” crossed his mind before he started combing through her hair.

“So pretty.” He had said it out loud before he registered the thought in his brain, but somehow it didn’t feel as smothering as it had in the restaurant. And that’s when he bent forward and kissed her. Softly, lightly on her lips. Her lips had fluttered slightly at his touch, but he noticed that she had closed her eyes on instinct. So he did it again, slightly firmer this time, pulling her body close along with the kissing motion. It felt like the ultimate sign of intimacy – like an embrace out of pure love, except amplified.

When they pulled apart for air, Natsu only had one thought on his mind.

“We can take the train back tomorrow if you want. No more hiking in heels.” And in the middle of a giggle, Lucy pulled them together again.

***

Notes: Over a year late to this nalu week prompt lmaoooo and it's 2am so I should really go to sleep. Hope you liked it! I'm just glad I didn't kill any characters or make them fight. I've written real angsty fics lately (and there's more to come, lol)

Anyways I hope you had as fun reading it as I had writing it! Xoxo

[firebreathfishslap]

sorry I just finished my fifth(!) playthrough of tales of the abyss so i'm going to be extremely annoying about it for a bit

this is entire game spoilers, obviously

something I don't think i've ever really appreciated until this replay is just how complex Guy is as a character, and particularly the little subtleties in how his moods change. he's both very open and not open at all about his feelings. being with Luke makes him a better person, sometimes because he's in that caretaker/coddling mode where he lets Luke get away with shit when he shouldn't be, but also because Luke is his friend and he cares about him a lot

and one thing that really stuck out to me in this playthrough is WOW, GUY CAN'T STAND ASCH

I don't think it takes a lot of particularly complex analysis to pick up on this but something that becomes really apparent during Asch's brief time in the party + whenever Asch shows up afterwards is that Guy isn't really interested in playing nice with him. He's not exactly getting combative with him, but he's noticeably more serious whenever Asch is around and is not at all interested in spending time with him. There's a really noticeable tension during Asch's brief time as party lead with the whole party, but Guy ducking out early is clearly him deciding that he does not care for Asch and thinks he should be by Luke's side during his lowest point

And I think the reasons for why Guy does not like Asch are pretty clear cut, and Guy literally spells a couple of these things out to Luke a few times throughout the game

Guy and Luke are friends, Guy and Asch are not. Whatever potential friendship the two of them could have had was tainted by Guy's revenge plot (which specifically involved killing Asch in front of Duke Fabre!!! fucked up!!!). When Asch was "kidnapped" and Luke came back in his place, suddenly Guy was responsible for raising Luke, and those seven years completely changed Guy's perspective, and then that perspective changed AGAIN as he would have come to realize that the person he was friends with was technically never the Duke's son to begin with

ASCH IS SO MEAN TO LUKE LIKE ALL THE TIME. He's constantly calling him names! Luke's self-esteem is in the gutter for like the entirety of Act 3 because he can only think of himself as Asch's defective replacement and is worrying about how he doesn't have a place in the world, and Asch keeps reinforcing these feelings literally every time he's on screen! That's Guy's friend he's being mean to!!!

i think there's also something to be noted about how Guy is basically the only cast member who actually brings up Luke's age in relation to his maturity. there's been a lot of drama about how Luke is seven years old and so the shipping stuff is creepy over the past, uh, 18 years, but Luke does actually act like a seventeen year old. he's not a child.

(like if we start treating Luke like he's a child then boy do I have some questions about Ion and Sync)

Guy, however, does call him a child twice, and both times are in context of trying to convince Luke that he has a whole life ahead of him. Like the big scene everyone brings up in Daath is specifically Guy trying to convince his best friend not to kill himself.

and if I'm getting into hard headcanon territory, Guy probably thinks about Luke that way specifically because he's the one who had to raise him.

anyways I'm not really going anywhere with this beyond that I think Guy and Luke's relationship and the way they play off of each other is really fascinating. I feel like Guy is the character who our understanding of changes the most over the course of the game and where it ends up by the end is really, really interesting

[fatgirlonadate-blog]

21 Days - Day 10

Xavier has the unique ability to keep everyone, even those closest to him, at an arm's length. He will speak freely and easily about casual topics, yet guards anything personal like his life depends on it. He's an open book until you dare try to turn the page past the first chapter. It's something that you've had to accept about him over the course of your friendship, and you rarely get anywhere when you press him on it. But as the two of you grow closer, it's becoming increasingly frustrating.

"Why am I just now finding out that your birthday is in six days?" You ask him, scrolling through his employee profile on your phone as the two of you sit at the dining table eating breakfast.

"You never asked," Xavier replies simply, continuing to eat his food.

The deep scowl you shoot him over your phone makes it clear that his answer isn't good enough and he sighs, setting his spoon down.

"Why would I mention it? It's the same as any other day."

"The same as any other day?" You repeat his words, incredulous. "What do you mean? It's your birthday!"

"It's not important. I don't really celebrate it."

The way he says it so casually, like he really believes it, doesn't sit right with you. Sure, it's his birthday and he's entitled to celebrate it however he wants, but the idea that it's not important - that no one has ever made it feel important - cuts through your chest like a knife.

"You don't do anything for it at all?" You press, setting your phone down to really look at him.

"Sometimes I have hot pot or spend the day reading a new book."

It takes everything in your limited self-restraint to keep your expression neutral and only nod in response as a plan begins to form in your mind. Hot pot and a new book were not going to cut it - not this year. The mature thing would be to respect his wishes, you know. But you've never been particularly mature, and Xavier deserves more than a bowl of noodles and a new book. He deserves to know that he's important. He deserves to feel...loved.

"Maybe we could spend your birthday reading together then? I'm feeling nice, so I'll even let you pick the book," you joke, trying desperately to sound natural.

"How very generous of you," Xavier says with an amused laugh, "I'd like that."

He returns to his meal, and you suppress the urge to ask him more questions. It would be nice to know what his other birthdays were like; surely he must have celebrated them with his family when he was younger? The image of a 5-year-old Xavier flashes through your mind unbidden, and you can almost picture him: chubby cheeks, wide blue eyes, fluffy hair, and a light blade taller than he is. You'd sell your soul to hear stories about him as a child. But you know better than to ask him. He'd grow quiet and tense, giving you a vague, evasive answer that would only make the distance he keeps between you feel wider.

The rest of the meal passes in comfortable silence, and you spend the time mentally creating a list of things you want to do for his birthday. It cannot be the same as any other day. Not this time. Not with you. Six days isn't a lot of time to plan something, but it should be more than enough with a little help.

"I have to head back into the city today." You mention, grabbing the bowls and utensils to clear the table. "I got distracted and forgot to cancel a doctor's appointment. I'll probably be gone for a few hours."

"Are you sick?"

"No," you call back to him, placing the dishes into the sink, "it's just a routine check-up."

"I'll come with you." Xavier offers, joining you in the kitchen.

"Nah, you don't need to. Besides, someone has to stay behind and make sure our suspect doesn't happen to choose today to finally make an appearance."

The old faucet squeaks to life as you rinse the dishes, and distracts you from the sound of his footsteps. You startle slightly as Xavier wraps his arms around you from behind and presses his chest against your back. "I'll come with you. Who else will keep you out of trouble if I'm not there?"

These small moments of blatant affection are still new. Xavier had always found subtle ways to express himself before: a brighter smile whenever you walked into the room, a hand on your back to steady you even though you didn’t need it, linking his pinky with yours as the two of you fell asleep on his couch, his lips brushing against your ear during a hug. But things have been different the last few days—it’s as if he can’t stop touching you. Neither of you has acknowledged it—too afraid to give it a name.

"I'm a grown-ass woman," you protest, "I don't need anyone to keep me out of trouble."

Xavier hums against your ear, and you can practically feel the way the corners of his mouth turn up in amusement, "I don’t know about that. Do you know how many times I have had to practically carry you home? I'm coming."

You huff in protest, but your smile is wider than a Cheshire cat’s. "Fine. Come with me then, but make yourself useful. No sleeping on the train, mister. I expect to be entertained."

You can feel him smile again as he places a kiss on the side of your neck.

"I'll do my best, Mrs. Shen."

It is not a surprise that Xavier lasted all of 15 minutes on the train before promptly falling asleep with his head on your shoulder. Light shining in through the window bounces off his fluffy hair making it look more golden than usual. The soft glow he's illuminated in transforms his normal cute features into something more ethereal. He's handsome. Jaw-droppingly handsome. It's easy to take for granted when you're seeing him every day, but you are painfully aware of it now.

He had insisted that you wear his white zippered jacket the moment you'd left the house despite it being quite warm for an Autumn day. Between the added layer of clothing and his body pressed against your side, it's hot on the train. It's not the kind of heat that makes you sweat; it's the kind of heat that makes your body feel languid and sleepy. Xavier never stood a chance of staying awake for the entire train ride.

You're nearly nodding off yourself when the loudspeakers announce that you've arrived at your destination. A flutter of excitement builds in your chest as you rouse Xavier and the two of you exit the train. Dr. Zayne is a man of few words, and you'd hardly heard from him over the last 10 days. It's the longest you've gone without seeing him since the two of you reconnected, and you're anxious to see him again.

The streets are bustling with shoppers and tourists, and the sounds of the city are almost deafening after spending nearly two weeks in the relative silence of the countryside. Xavier's fingers lace with yours, and he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as the two of you weave through the sea of people on the sidewalk.

The receptionist greets the two of you as you arrive, and after confirming the details of your visit, instructs you to sit in the lobby while you wait. The hospital looks much the same as the last time you were here; the white walls are stark and bright, and the sterile scent of disinfectant is strong in the air. The space is relatively empty, and there is no sign of Dr. Zayne - likely still busy with his last patient. But your eyes light up when you see Dr. Greyson passing through the waiting room, and you give him an excited wave.

"Hey, doctor!" You call to him, "It's been a while."

He approaches the two of you with a warm smile and takes a seat in the chair next to yours, "Ah, Dr. Zayne's most unruly patient. How are you doing? You look well."

Xavier sits silently beside you, his eyes shifting between you and Greyson.

"I am, thanks to the two of you. How are you? How's the protocore syndrome research going?"

"Busy, but I can't complain. Not much progress has been made since your visit last month, but I did run across something you might be interested in." He pulls out his phone and angles his body closer to you to share his screen. With deft fingers, he quickly navigates to a medical journal that he has bookmarked. "It's a paper that Xander Sciences just published."

Thankfully, the abstract is brief, and you instinctively lean in toward Dr. Greyson as you skim through it. Xander Science's research is notoriously secretive, making it surprising they've released new findings. Just as you reach out to scroll to the bottom, your chair unexpectedly skids several inches to the side.

"Woah!" You yelp in surprise and turn to look in the direction your chair was yanked. Xavier's hand is retreating from your armrest that is now flush with his.

"Sorry, hand slipped." He says flatly, looking not at all apologetic.

Dr. Greyson eyes flit curiously between the two of you, and he slips his phone back into his pocket. "Right. Well, it was good to see you. Dr. Zayne's schedule is packed today, but I doubt your wait will be much longer."

"Thank you, see you next time!" You say to Dr. Greyson's retreating back. The moment he's out of hearing range, you turn toward Xavier and hiss, "What was that about?"

Xavier looks sheepish for a moment, and then shrugs, "My hand really did slip."

You frown and roughly tug at the cuff of his long-sleeve black t-shirt. “Really? This hand just moved on its own?”

“Yep,” he answers definitively, grabbing your hand with his and holding it in his lap. His thumb idly traces back and forth across your wrist.

"I don't believe that for one sec-"

A short woman wearing scrubs interrupts you mid-sentence, "Dr. Zayne will see you shortly. Please follow me."

As soon as you rise to follow her back to Zayne's office, Xavier stands up too, catching the petite nurse's attention.

“No guests are allowed in exam rooms—only immediate family. I’m afraid I'll have to ask you to wait here, sir,” she says, her tone flat and dismissive, as if she’s had this conversation a thousand times before.

"I'm her husband." Xavier says with a lazy smile.

It is a good thing that he wrapped an arm around your waist at the same time as he said it or you would have tripped over thin air. Husband. HUSBAND. What in the world is he thinking? This is Linkon. This is your hospital. These people know you!

The entire English language is wiped from your memory as you open your mouth to speak, and you're left stuttering like an idiot, "I...um...well..."

The nurse shifts on her feet and glances between the two of you, clearly uncertain if she should believe you or not. But after glancing at her watch, she simply shrugs and motions for you to follow.

"You'll be seen in exam room 4 today rather than Dr. Zayne's personal office."

The walk to the exam room is short and punctuated only by the sound of your footsteps and the beat of your own heart in your ears. The room itself is familiar - plain white walls, a single exam table, an ECG machine, and a small desk in the corner. It's the same every month. But what isn't the same is the sight of Xavier slouched in the chair by the door looking comfortable and at ease with the situation.

The nurse begins running you through the typical set of diagnostics for your visit: checking your pulse, blood pressure, and a slew of questions about any symptoms you currently have. Though you've answered questions about your menstrual cycle and sexual activity a dozen times at these appointments, it feels so much more awkward with Xavier listening. Finally, when she's satisfied that the basic checks are done, she excuses herself, and the two of you are left alone.

"You are not my husband! I cannot believe you said that!" you whisper-yell at Xavier.

"I am," he retorts, "for the next few months, to be precise."

"Not here, you aren't! Not in the city! Not actually!"

Xavier laughs softly at your quiet outrage, clearly not appreciating how embarrassed you feel. "Should I have said I was your brother? We do not really look alike."

You groan, and bury your face in your hands, "No! You should have just stayed in the waiting room!"

He lets out another soft laugh, and then goes quiet. The only sound in the exam room for a moment is the sound of his chair sliding across the floor as he moves closer to the table. The next thing you feel is his hand wrapping around your right wrist and pulling your palm away from your face.

"Did I mess up? I'm sorry," he says softly, "I thought you'd want me to come in with you."

The teasing expression is gone from his eyes and replaced by something gentle and vulnerable. He's trying, you realize. He's trying to be supportive and a part of your life in a way he never has before. He's trying to support you for something even as simple as a checkup. He cares about you. It's always been obvious that he cares about you. But this feels like more. It feels like...a word you won't even let yourself think.

A soft knock at the door interrupts the moment, and you spring away from Xavier like you've been burned and jerk your wrist from his grasp. Your eyes snap in the direction of the door right as it swings open.

"Hello," Dr. Zayne greets you, his voice cold and professional, "I apologize for the delay. My last patient had a lot of questions."

If Zayne is surprised that Xavier is present, he makes no outward sign of it as he takes his seat at the small desk and reviews your file on the screen of his monitor. He's dressed impeccably, as always. The white dress shirt and black tie under his lab coat look good on him, but there are darkened circles under his eyes that hint at sleepless nights.

"It's good to see you, Dr. Zayne. How have you been?"

Zayne responds without looking up from his computer, "I've been quite well. But that's not why we are here. How have you been feeling? Any changes recently? Fatigue? Shortness of breath?"

The coolness in his tone would have once intimidated you, but you'd long since come to understand his aloof facade. With more and more frequency you were able to break through it, but for the second time today you wish Xavier had stayed in the waiting room. It's rare for Zayne to let his guard down while inside the hospital, and Xavier's presence here makes the possibility virtually nonexistent.

"I feel good. Sometimes I'm tired, but who isn't? And no, no shortness of breath."

"Good." Zayne says with a slight nod and turns to face you, "Should I ask why you've brought a guest or would you rather I stay in suspense?"

His eyes cut toward Xavier briefly, and then returned to you. His gaze is sharp and intense, and it's unclear if he's irritated or simply curious.

"Xavier. I'm her partner," Xavier answers before you have a chance to speak.

"My hunting partner!" You clarify quickly.

Zayne's brows raise infinitesimally, "I see. And is it customary now for your colleagues to accompany you to your doctor's visits?"

While it was unclear before, it's not now. Irritated. That's irritation in his voice, and he is pointedly ignoring Xavier's existence.

"No," you answer with a nervous laugh. "We're on a long-term mission. He wasn't supposed to come back here. We just had a teensy misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding." Zayne repeats, and his lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile. "Interesting. Hard to believe that could happen with your excellent communication skills."

The tension in your shoulders ease at his small attempt at humor, and you return his ghost of a smile with a much livelier one. The moment of ease is fleeting, though, because Zayne quickly slips back into doctor mode. He asks question after question about your daily activities, sleeping habits, and nutrition. Zayne finds very few of your answers to be satisfactory. By the time he's finished, you feel properly chastised. Xavier, thankfully, remained silent throughout your interrogation.

"Sit here, please." Zayne requests, pulling a stool out from under the desk. "I'd like to check your heart before we part ways."

You do as you are told, and move to sit in front of him. He slips the stethoscope from around his neck and places the instrument over your chest. His silence during this part of the exam always makes you nervous, and you cannot help but try to fill it for him.

"I'm sure it's fine, right? If something were wrong I'd have felt a difference. Wouldn't I?"

Zayne leans closer as you babble, his brows furrowed, his attention focused.

"It's only been a month since my last checkup. What could have chang-"

"Shhh," Zayne shushes you, and his eyes on yours are a reprimand.

You immediately snap your mouth closed with a click and freeze, sitting perfectly still under his stethoscope.

"You should still breathe," he softly admonishes, meeting your eyes.

You immediately suck in several quick lungfuls of air, your chest rising and falling dramatically in response.

"Slowly. And deeply." He corrects, moving his hand to the small of your back and pressing insistently to correct your posture. You straighten your spine at his touch, and take a deep, slow breath in before releasing it at the same rate.

The corner of Zayne's mouth twitches upward as you comply, and he moves the stethoscope to another spot on your chest, "Good girl. Keep doing that for me."

You flinch and feel Zayne's hands tense against your back as the lights in the room flicker once, twice, and then go completely dark for a moment. There's a scraping sound as Zayne scoots his chair back and stands up just as the lights in the room hum back to life as if they'd never gone out in the first place.

You dart an accusatory glance at Xavier only to see that his posture has completely changed. He's sitting with his arms crossed, jaw clenched, and is staring unwaveringly at Zayne.

Zayne, however, remains the picture of composure as he settles back into his chair. Though you're seated directly in front of him, his gaze shifts past you, locking onto Xavier with a calculating look.

"Must be a storm," Xavier says roughly, leaning back in his chair and uncrossing his arms.

"Must be." Zayne replies, his expression is as inscrutable as Xavier's.

Silence stretches between the three of you as they continue to stare at each other. Your eyes shift between the two men, waiting for something to happen. An explanation. A diversion. An act of God. Something. Is this how men size each other up? Does the man who speaks first lose?

"So...how'd my heart sound, Dr. Zayne? Fit as a fiddle, right?" You ask, breaking the silence for them. They both turn to look at you as you speak, and the tension eases a fraction.

Zayne swivels in his seat to face the desk and begins typing. "You're in good health, despite your best efforts to sabotage it. I'd like to see you back in two weeks for a follow-up."

"Two weeks?" You repeat, "But I usually come once a month."

"Two weeks." He confirms, reaching into the drawer of his desk, "We'll go over your test results then. Privately."

Zayne stands and nudges the drawer closed, gesturing toward the door. A clear dismissal.

You stand and Xavier is quick to follow as Zayne opens the door and steps out of the room to show the two of you out.

"Thanks, Dr. Zayne. I'll see you in a couple of weeks, then."

Zayne nods as you and Xavier exit the room into the hallway. He gently catches your wrist in his hand as you're about to walk away, and presses a small, foil-wrapped candy into your palm.

"Do not hesitate to call me if anything changes," Zayne says quietly, his voice as professional as always. But you hear it. The message that's hiding in the words he won't ever say: I'm here for you. Any time.

Zayne pulls away and returns to the exam room with a polite, distant smile.

As soon as the door shuts, Xavier slips his hand into yours and begins walking toward the hospital exit. His fingers around yours are slightly too tight for comfort, and his pace is quicker than normal. It's an effort to keep up.

"What is that?" He asks, clearly not having missed the small exchange between you and Zayne.

"Oh! It's candy." You open your other palm to show him the small piece of candy in your hand. "I always get one after a checkup. It's kind of an inside joke."

"He complained about your diet." Xavier says wryly, glancing down at your hand, "But he gives you candy?"

"Are you jealous of the candy now? Do you want me to give it to you?" You tease him, bumping your shoulder into his.

Xavier scoffs, "No. You can keep your hospital candy, Mrs. Shen."

Your laughter echoes through the hospital corridor, and Xavier's face relaxes into a smile. The tension leaves his body, and his grip on your hand eases. His pace slows, and he falls in step beside you instead of pulling you along behind him.

The streets of Linkon are crowded by the time you and Xavier leave the hospital. The sky has grown darker, gray clouds rolling in from the distance, and the air smells heavy. There's a chill wind that wasn't there earlier today, and you wrap Xavier's jacket closer around you as you walk.

You're halfway toward the train station as the first raindrop lands on your face. It's followed by another, and then another. The clouds open up and the rain falls in a torrent. Within seconds, you're both soaked to the bone.

Xavier tightens his grip on your hand and the two of you begin to run, weaving your way through the crowd of pedestrians. It's cold and wet, but the adrenaline of running hand-in-hand through the street with him has you giggling uncontrollably. You squeal with laughter and pretend to protest as he scoops you up and carries you through the large puddle separating you from the entrance to the train station. 

The train is already boarding when the two of you arrive, so there's no time to find a bathroom and dry off. You're wet, shivering, and the two of you leave a trail of water and footprints in your wake as you board.

The train car is mostly empty, and you quickly make your way to the back and claim the last two seats in the row. You sit by the window and Xavier plops down beside you, shaking his head like a wet dog. Water droplets fling in every direction, and you laugh and whine as you try to shield yourself.

"Xav! No!" You scold him, "You're getting me all wet!"

He stops shaking his head and turns to grin at you, "What? You're already drenched. Is it even possible to make you more wet?"

The thought that instantly springs to your mind has nothing to do with rain, and you feel your cheeks heat even though you're shivering in your seat. Xavier's grin grows wider and you can see that he's caught onto your thoughts.

"Oh, are you blushing?" He asks, trailing his cold fingers down your too-warm cheek, "I wonder why."

"No! I'm not blushing. Shut up. It's...It's just very cold."

"Cold? Really?" He coaxes, "You sure it's not something else?"

"Very sure. What else could it be?"

"Hm, I think I know," Xavier says softly.

He snakes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. He's cold, too. The thin material of his black t-shirt is damp and clings to his chest in a way that should be illegal. Your eyes stray to the planes of his chest and stomach that you can see against the fabric. The temptation to touch him is only tempered by the way he's shivering and the fact that you're both very much in public.

The rain is still falling hard as the two of you make it back to your temporary suburban home. The warmth of the cozy apartment is an immediate relief, and you do not waste any time kicking your soggy shoes off and peeling off your jacket. Your damp jeans cling to your legs as you bend over and roll your drenched socks off one-by-one.

"Come on, let's get changed. You'll catch a cold if you stay in wet clothes," Xavier says, placing his hand on the small of your back to lead you down the hall to the bedroom.

The moment you're both in the bedroom, Xavier begins stripping out of his wet clothes. He peels the soaked t-shirt off of his upper body and throws it into the laundry basket near the door. There's no hesitation in his hands and he's not looking in your direction as he starts removing his jeans. The button is quickly undone, and he's just hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants when you finally remember to turn away.

Your attention is now directed to your own clothes, and you suddenly feel more shy than you should. The two of you have changed clothes around and near each other for the last several days, but there's always been some unspoken agreement to find a reason to leave the room once one of you gets down to your underwear.

Your cheeks feel hot again, and your fingers are clumsy as you pull at the hem of your shirt. The wet fabric sticks to you as you pull it over your head and toss it into the laundry basket to join Xavier's wet clothes. You fumble with the button of your jeans, and the zipper sounds unnaturally loud in the quiet of the room. Your heart is beating hard in your chest as you push the stubborn wet denim down to your ankles and step out of them.

Your bra and panties are slightly damp, and there's no reason not to take them off. There's no reason to be blushing this hard from simply changing your clothes in a room with a man. Especially with a man you're sure already has his back turned toward you, but you're not brave enough to check.

"I'll get some towels," Xavier offers, his footsteps already heading in the direction of the door.

Your shoulders sag with relief and maybe a little disappointment. With a frustrated shake of your head at your own conflicting emotions, you quickly unhook your bra and slide off your panties. They land in the laundry basket with a quick toss, and you open the closet to find something to sleep in. You swiftly scan through your side, but can't help but notice that all of Xavier's sweaters look so soft and warm. A lot warmer than any of your pajamas.

You reach for the frayed white sweater on the shelf and pull it over your head. It's soft and warm, and the sleeves hang well past your fingertips. The bottom of the sweater falls midway down your thighs.

Choosing a pair of panties, something you normally do without a second thought, shouldn’t make you blush. "It’s not like he’s even going to see them," you whisper to yourself. Yet your hand hesitates as you sift through the options. There’s no reason to pick anything sexy—you barely own any, and it’s not like you’ve had someone to wear them for. But before you can second guess yourself, your hand moves instinctively, reaching to the back of the drawer to pull out a lacy black pair. You slip them on without another moment’s hesitation and pull the sweater down to stretch past your thighs.

Xavier returns moments later with a towel hanging loosely around his bare shoulders and another one grasped in his hands. His hair is tousled and messy, sticking up at all angles. It's a sight that you'd find adorable under different circumstances, but not tonight. Not right now because he's shirtless and his gray sweatpants are hanging low enough on his hips that you can see the beginning of the "V" line of his pelvis.

There should be an award for the effort it takes not to stare at him, and you reach your hand out for the towel that he's holding. Xavier shakes his head, and moves the towel further out of your reach.

"I'll do it," he says quietly, "Sit down."

"I can do it myself" you protest, but he's already herding you toward the bed.

You back up as he advances until the back of your knees press against the bed and you sit on the edge. Xavier joins you and wraps the plush towel around your shoulders, rubbing it lightly over the wet ends of your hair. He's gentle and thorough as he wrings the water out of your damp hair and uses the towel to dry the moisture off of the back of your neck.

Once you’re mostly dry, he sets the towel aside and gently runs his fingers through your hair, combing it out with care. Gathering it in his hand, he drapes it over one shoulder to clear the way. His fingers trail from your ear down to the nape of your neck.

"Is this mine?" He asks, tracing the collar of the white sweater you're wearing.

"I had no choice. I had to borrow it."

Xavier's eyes drift lower, to where the sweater ends at your bare thighs, before returning to your face.

"Is it the only thing that's mine?" He asks, his eyes searching yours.

For the slightest moment, you had thought he was asking if you'd stolen any of his other clothes. But then his meaning hit you like a lightning bolt burning heat through all of your nerve endings. Your mouth goes dry and you swallow thickly, trying to find your voice.

"Do you want me to be yours?" You whisper hesitantly, unable to directly answer his question.

"More than you could ever imagine."

His answer is quiet and breathy, but there’s not a second of hesitation in it. And it's the only push you need to finally close the gap between the two of you. You lean forward and catch his lips with yours, cupping his face in your hands to pull him closer. His lips are soft and warm against yours. When he traces the seam of your lips with his tongue you part them instantly to invite him in.

He kisses you slowly at first, but then his lips become more greedy and desperate. There’s a lack of finesse due to the urgency with which he’s consuming your mouth. And every movement of his lips and tongue against yours draws you in deeper and makes you feel more needy.

Need. That’s what this is. You know he feels the same way as his hands move to your shoulders and he pushes you back against the bed. He moves with you as you lie back against the bed and presses you down into the mattress with his weight. You part your thighs instinctively so that he can settle in between them. 

He caresses a path up your sides as he turns his attention to your neck and begins to place wet, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. These are not the chaste, small kisses he usually gives you while you fall asleep. You gasp and rock your hips against his as you feel the bite of his teeth against your throat. His tongue quickly soothes the area as he sucks on the ache his teeth left behind. His fingers halt near the top of your ribcage and he fists the fabric of the sweater in his hands before pulling back slightly to look at you.

"Can I touch you?" His voice is ragged and he's breathing hard between his parted lips.

"You already are," you answer distractedly, dragging your nails lightly down the smooth skin of his bare back.

"No," he clarifies, slipping one of his hands under your sweater. His fingers are rough and warm as he slides his hand up the expanse of your stomach, stopping right under the curve of your breast, "Can I touch you like this?"

Your heart is beating wildly, so hard and fast you're sure he must hear it. The warmth of his hand against your skin, so close to where he's never dared touch you before, makes you squirm with need and anticipation. You nod, eyes locked on his, and Xavier leans down to capture your lips in a hungry kiss as his hand inches higher and finally cups your breast.

The moment his fingers graze your nipple, your back arches off the bed, and a whimper escapes into his mouth. His warm hand caresses your sensitive skin, sending waves of pleasure straight to your core, but it’s not enough. Your sweater is bunched awkwardly around your waist, his arm trapped beneath it, though he doesn’t seem to notice as he kneads your breast more firmly. But you do—you don't want anything between you. Tilting your head to the side, you break the kiss and press gently against his chest until he pulls back.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He asks softly, confusion clear on his face as he relaxes his grip on you.

"No, I just...I want..." Your words trail off as you move your hands down to tug on the sweater that's bunched up between the two of you.

The sound that he makes in response is somewhere between a groan and a growl, and he immediately pushes himself up to help you yank the sweater off and toss it on the floor. Goosebumps erupt across your skin as the cool air of the room hits your skin.

"You're beautiful," Xavier whispers reverently, his hands moving to cup both of your breasts, "You have no idea how long I've wanted to touch you."

Your head falls back against the pillow as you let out a breathless sigh of his name, "Xavier..."

He exhales a shuddering breath and leans down to fit his body against yours - chest to chest, skin to skin. He moves one hand to the back of your neck and tangles his fingers in your hair, pulling gently as he leans down to kiss you again. You can feel the hard length of his cock is pressing insistently against you through his gray sweatpants as he grinds his hips against yours.

"It sounds so good when you say my name like that. Say it again." He commands softly, trailing kisses along your jaw and down to your ear.

"Xavier," you repeat, your voice breathy and barely audible as he bites your earlobe. "Please."

"Good girl." He whispers against your ear as she shifts to trail kisses along your collar bones.

You fist your hands in his hair as he moves lower, kissing and nipping a path between your breasts. The gasp that escapes your throat is loud in the quiet room as his mouth closes over one of your nipples and his hand caresses the other one while he sucks.

The coil of tension is building low in your belly, and you can barely contain the way your body responds to him. You're so wet that you can feel the lace of your panties slide against your smooth skin every time you rock your hips against his thigh. You want him so badly that your whole body starts to tremble with need.

“Please, Xavier," you beg through gasping breaths.

"Please what?" he asks, releasing your nipple with a wet sound and trailing kisses across to the other. "Tell me what you want. I'll give you anything."

"More...just more..." You plead, "Touch me."

He leans back onto his knees and his hand slides down your stomach, tracing circles around your belly button, before his fingers finally come to rest at the waistband of your lacy black panties.

"Here?" He asks, unable to draw his eyes away from his own fingers, "Do you want me to touch you here?"

You nod, and your chest rises and falls rapidly as his hand trails down the lace and presses against your pussy. The sound he makes when his fingers find the wetness between your legs is almost a whimper. You throw an arm over your mouth to muffle the cry that leaves your throat as Xavier strokes you, his fingers brushing against your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. His touch is bordering on too gentle as he rubs his fingers up and down the front of the lace.

"Is this mine, too?" he asks, cupping your pussy with his palm.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you know your face must be flushed crimson due to how hot it feels. You nod slowly, lips parted, your eyes glued to the way his fingers are splayed over your center.

"I need to hear it." He says in a low rough voice, and his fingers flex against your skin.

"Yours," you answer, your voice shaky and breathless.

Xavier groans softly and trails his hand upward to hook his fingers in the lace, "Can I take them off?"

"God, yes." You find your voice.

His fingers tremble slightly as he grasps the waistband and begins to pull the lace down your thighs. It's the hottest discovery in the world to see that Xavier - cool, calm, and collected Xavier - is just as nervous and affected by this as you are. He shifts somewhat awkwardly, his position between your thighs making it difficult, and you can't help but giggle as you help him pull the panties down and off.

But your giggles die in your throat and reincarnate as soft gasps and moans as his fingers slide up your thighs and he finally caresses your bare pussy. You rock your hips up against his hand, urging him to touch more of you, and you whimper loudly as he slips one of his fingers into your wet heat.

A moment later, he slides in a second finger, and the gentle stretch as he fills you sends a shockwave of pleasure rippling through your body. His fingers are long, curling inside you at just the right angle, making your legs tremble and your pussy tighten around him. It’s as though he already knows exactly where and how to touch you, like he's done this countless times before.

"Xavier," you whimper, feeling a familiar pressure beginning to build inside of you.

"You feel so good," he murmurs, "You're so tight and wet. Just for me. Isn't that right?"

The second you nod he crooks his fingers inside of you, pressing against a spot that feels electric, and you cry out his name as his thumb circles your clit. Your back arches and you reach out and fist the sheets in your hands.

"Good girl. Just like that." Xavier says, shifting so that he can lean over you and kiss your lips again.

His lips are firm and insistent against yours, the kiss is messy, and your breathing becomes shallow and fast. Your hips rock and grind against his hand as his fingers pump in and out of you. His thumb is still stroking your clit is the most delicious torture you've ever felt, and you don't ever want it to stop. You can feel the pleasure coiling and building low in your stomach as you suck on his tongue. He pulls away from the kiss and buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your flushed skin.

"You're so close. I can feel it," he whispers, and his voice is low and rough, "Come for me. Please."

The sound of him begging and the feeling of his thumb pressing harder against your clit is all you need. Your orgasm crashes over you, your walls convulsing around his fingers, and electric pleasure blooms from your stomach and spreads through your body.

You're still trembling as he slowly withdraws his fingers, and you watch with sated eyes as he sucks both of them clean. He hums softly and closes his eyes, and if it were possible to cum again on the spot, you would have.

His hair is messy from the way your fingers had tugged and pulled on it, and there is a distinct dark spot on his tented gray sweatpants from where you were grinding against him earlier. But it's his eyes that you can't seem to pull yourself away from. They're that soft, happy blue that you love and shining with adoration.

With a smile, he lies down next to you and pulls you into his arms. He grasps the edge of the blanket and brings it up to cover both of you as he places small kisses all over your face. You giggle as he kisses your nose and then rubs it with his own.

"Close your eyes," he says softly, threading his fingers through your hair as you yawn.

"I'm not tired."

"Yes, you are," he insists.

"But..." You trail off, too embarrassed to actually voice your thought, and slide your hand down his chest toward the waistband of his sweatpants.

He circles your wrist in his hand, and gently slides it back up his chest, "It's okay. Tonight was just for you."

You pout, "But I want-"

"Shhh." He shushes you quietly and shifts so that your head is resting against his chest with his arms wrapped around you.

"Just let me take care of you. That's all I want."

[cloudysarts]

All right I take the bait. Why do you believe Manel should have accompanied Pacifica at the party

AHHH THANK YOU IM SO EXCITED TO EXPLAIN MYSELF (in reference to this post)

ok. northwest mansion mystery is a great episode obviously. but HERES why i think the episode would've been even better if mabel was in dippers spot!!!!!! its kinda a lot so i put it under a read more

so this episode is sort of the middle-ish of season 2 i think, right before the ford reveal!! its not a super long show anyway so theres not a ton of pacifica appearances, anyway. BUT in EVERY SINGLE OTHER PACIFICA EPISODE, her energy has been bouncing off of mabel!!! from their meeting in double dipper, to irrational treasure, to golf war; they have been established as the main dynamic here. golf war is especially important here, because this is the very first step in pacfica's redemption arc! mabel saves her in this episode, the pines give her a ride home, and it seems like pacifica is going to start being a little more understanding of mabel because she had misjudged her, hence why she was treating her so poorly. it looks like theyre gonna establish a friendship between them!

and then. they dont. they basically never interact again. because the next time we see pacifica, she goes straight to dipper in northwest manor mystery. the cold open implies that the northwests wanted dipper specifically because of his knowlege of how to deal with the supernatural but IN MY OPINION that DOESNT EVEN MAKE SENSE because we NEVER see dipper fighting these monsters on his own? hes ALWAYS with mabel. at the very least, i think it shouldve been BOTH of them??? we see a brief shot of a newspaper clipping where dipper is fighting a vampire bat or something and i just. when did this happen. where is mabel

that would be a fine argument for it being both of them instead of just mabel so heres one of my bigger points thats gonna come back a lot in this breakdown: dipper. does not like pacifica. he STRAIGHT UP HATES HER. every single interaction theyve had has been negative!!! its even massively negative at the beginning of this ep!!!! though mabel often dislikes pacifica, she TRIES REALLY HARD TO LIKE HER. mabel has a lot of love in her heart, and if she could, shed want to be her friend!!! its always been pacifica whos been rejecting those advances!!! golf war was the start of pacifica understanding that about mabel, and it nmm wouldve been the PERFECT time to wrap up that arc, rather than leaving it!!!

and i would argue that could STILL LEAD INTO A DIPCIFICA ARC, if thats what the showrunners/fans wanted? most of why dipper hates pacifica to begin with is because shes so terrible to mabel. he only agrees to go to the party in canon because MABEL wants to!!! imo, i think the lead in to them being a couple would be a million times better if that massive problem in their relationship was solved first

i dont PERSONALLY like dipcifica but im trying to stay unbiased about this if you cant tell

i would also argue that like. dipper just seems really out of character. the reason i picked some of the scenes i did for my redraws, was because they were scenes that i think his behavior would fit mabel a lot better. examples:

why do the northwests have a suit in dippers size anyway. he literally doesnt even like wearing it sjkfhkj in a potential re-write of this ep, i considered that mabel would come in wearing her super extravagent home made dress, and it would 'violate dress code', so she would be forced to wear one of pacificas we could still have that cute dress-up expo scene that we do AND have some fun commentary/symbolism about pacifica being nervous about having her in the dress because its NICE and TOO GOOD FOR HER and she looked FINE BEFORE ANYWAY

mabels empathy is a recurring theme in the show. shed WANT to give pacifica the benefit of the doubt, and would be VERY betrayed when finding out her and her family already knew about the ghosts and knew what he wanted. i understand that dipper was so upset because it seemed like pacifica was changing for the better just to find out that she wasnt, but i think this fits so much better with mabel, because shes always WANTED to believe that shes secretly a good person. she would be glad to see her turn a corner, and would be upset when finding out she was 'wrong', and that she really was mean deep down. whcih would obviously lead to her comforting her later/finding out the truth about her etc etc. on the other hand, dipper literally never believed she had good in her. from the first interaction we see of them, he thinks shes as terrible as her family. he ISNT as interested in giving her the benefit of the doubt and if it wasnt a life or death situation i dont think he wouldve forgiven her. IDK i just think its more in character for her

the dancing scene!!! honestly this works fine as is (i can see both dipper and mabel being excited to make a mess on a fancy carptet) but idk i just think it carries so much more weight if its these two girls. silly moments for mabel!!!! pacifica getting to really be a kid and not just a sparkly prop!!!!!!! pacifica finally indulging in her sillyness that she mocked in irrational treasure!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ok moving on. one of the bigger things that bother me about it being dipper here instead of mabel is one teeny tiny (honestly really irrational) scene at the party. in it, dipper is confronted by fiddleford, who tells him he has big news about the author/the laptop and the towns in danger and its vitally important and dipper just. shrugs him off???!!?!?!?! i cannot even IMAGINE. in alex hirschs words "the first season is about dipper being in love with wendy, and the second is about him being in love with the author" meaning that. those are the TWO things that dipper is completely and totally obsessed with. hes clearly not over wendy (as we see in later episodes) and this is not long after sock opera/society of the blind eye so youd THINK hed be more depserate for answers than ever!??!?! this child was willing to sell out his great uncle and raise the dead and stay up for several nights in a row for answers, and the second he is offered some (from a man who WORKED WITH THE AUTHOR btw) hes like like 'whatevr'?!?!?! it is so out of character and it drives me fucking nuts every time. i know hes starting to like pacifica now but as we see in the comics (if you chose to think those are canon) HE DOESNT EVEN SEEM TO LIKE HER THAT MUCH!??!?! hes STILL convinced shes vain, and mean, and selfish!!!! he DOES start to have a little arc with her but jksdfjksf IDK i just cant in a million years see him passing up the chance for answers to the biggest mystery in gravity falls to hang out with a girl he tolerates

but yknow who i CAN see doing that? MABEL!!!!!!!! mabel would be concerned when mcgucket comes up to her, and starts talking like this!!!! i can totally see her suggesting that he relax for a little while and enjoy the party like dipper did, and then forgetting to come back to talk/not running into him later!!!! ESPECIALLY since i can see mabel WANTING to spend time with pacifica where dipper just. really doesnt seem to want to MOST of the time

ok ill admit that this last one is sort of a personal opinion. but i just. i really dont like the B plot of this episode with mabel and the girls. IDK its just so annoying and pointless to me to have a plot where its just a bunch of girls turning against each other over a guy. im not gonna say its mysoginistic bc i know little girls can be boy crazy but i just. dont see why there was a need to make them fight/turn against grenda briefly??? even when they rekindled and it was all ok in the end its just. in comparison to the A plot its so. Nothing.

in my head i have a rewrite of this episode and how it goes is that pacifica approaches dipper and asks for help and he turns it down (like he does in canon). mabel suggests that they do it anyway, but he refuses, as he wants nothing to do with her. when dippers gone, mabel agrees to help (and pacifica begrudgingly accepts bc it seems like the only option) and so she steals the journal when dippers not looking. she goes to the party, and events go pretty much the same?? only major difference i can think of is that the B plot is replaced by one where dipper realizes mabel and the journal are missing, so he sneaks into the manor/sneaks around the house trying to find he rand get it back (and its so massive he has no luck). the reason i think THAT works is because we can even still have the scene where dipper turns to wood like shifty prophesied!!!! and i would even argue it makes more sense this way because wasnt shiftys warning that "if you keep digging so deep into the secrets of gravity falls, this will be the last form youll ever take" ?

OK IM SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG im probably forgetting points too so i might edit it later but THANKS FOR ASKING

tldr: pacifica and mabels friendship plotline was left on a total cliffhanger after golf war and if mabel replaced dipper in nmm it would've been a good resolution to it

edit: check the reblogs if youre still interested! i added another list of reasons i think this (mostly in response to people disagreeing)

[ruewrote]

𝑖 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑥 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader WARNINGS: strong language, teasing GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: thelema by ofdream WORD COUNT: 722

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you knew rafe long before he got hooked on coke. you were sarah's childhood best friend.

she stuck up for you when you were getting picked on by two boys in the early stages of school, it didn't help that you were new. she offered you a hand in helping get the sand that was currently in your hair out, you quietly agreed.

that was the start of your friendship, you did practically everything together. that leads all the way up to now where you were still joined at the hip. your infatuation with her brother didn't show any signs of settling down soon either, but she didn't need to know that.

growing up rafe got into a lot of fights, you personally didn't know what to think of any of it until the cuts and bruises continually got worse, unattended.

it was late on saturday, you and sarah had a sleepover at her house, pillow fights and the mention of boys was spoken of. you got into tons of escapades that night, only now to be settled under a large blanket, it covering both you and her, she was long asleep.

but you couldn't. no particular reason why, you just couldn't.

the big house was silent other than the tv that was quietly playing in the background, deciding to get a glass of water from the kitchen, not realizing how thirsty you were from eating so much sweet stuff.

as you grabbed a glass from the cabinet, the sound of someone fumbling to get their key in the front door made your heart falter, looking around the kitchen for something to protect yourself with, the first thing you spotted was the wooden knife block.

grasping the biggest knife in your hand, you slowly started to make your way to the doorframe, peeking around it when the door finally opened to be met with rafe.

a deep sigh of relief left your lips, leaning your head back before walking out from your hiding place.

"what the fuck rafe? it's like-," looking over to the clock on the wall that read that it was one in the morning.

"really late yeeaaah i know..." that's when he leaned up against the wall leading to the stairs, beginning to take off his boots, a specific scene on the tv displayed a bright light that reached his bloodied face.

gasping, you placed the knife on the counter and then ran over to examine his face, he tried to dismiss you until he felt your hands softly cup his face.

"what happened- actually never mind let's just go and get you sorted out first." the whole way to the bathroom he downplayed how bad his injuries were, even though he was in excruciating pain.

after all the quiet back and forth you finally got him to give in and let you look after his cuts. rafe was sitting on the counter next to the sink, you stood in between his legs, having to slightly stand on your tiptoes as you swiped the last antiseptic cotton bud across the bridge of his nose.

his jaw clenched tightly, making it more pronounced. you were just trying to ignore the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

"you really should be more careful, you know." you muttered, turning away from him, and throwing the used cleaning supplies into the bin.

"you worried about me, sweetheart?" you froze slightly as you faced him. trying so hard not to show any reaction to what was just said.

"nope, ahem. just saves me from ya know having to do all this again..." gesturing to the dressing on his face, your words soon fading when you saw the way that rafe looking down at you, so very deep into your eyes, almost...teasing?

a small mhm was heard from him as the staring continued, and your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips. "well! i better head back downstairs, don't want your sister to wake up and me not be...there? bye!" you unsuccessfully backed out of the room, bumping into the wall before scrambling down the stairs.

once getting there, back under the blanket with sarah. you laid your head down squeezing your eyes shut and let out a breath that you didn't know that you were holding onto.

you knew from that moment on you were officially fucked.

© ruewrote.

[soupandsimple]

Better For It (with Sirius Black)

[ your short lived attempt of trying to avoid thinking or talking about Sirius’s time in Azkaban at the start of staying with him ]

* angst / fluff 🖤

This was requested: see the ask here

…………….

It was decided Sirius Black was to stay at Grimmauld Place. And for his sanity, the higher members of the Order suggested someone stay there with him. Instantly, you volunteered.

Before tragedy struck all those years ago on the night of October thirty-first, you and Sirius had a strong friendship. So strong that it reached the stage where it started blossoming into a romantic love. Neither of you had the chance to act on it then because it was around the time all hell broke loose with Voldemort. So where did that leave you now with him?

Since his escape and reunion of the Order, it seemed you were both on the same page to not acknowledge each other romantically but just as old friends. Truth is, you were both afraid to cross a line that either of you might have, which caused for awkwardness and tension which you hoped in time would repair itself.

Back to the present, your first day alone with Sirius began. Mad Eye had just left the house after going through some protective ground rules with Sirius and you upon dropping you off.

“So…” you started.

“So…” Sirius repeated with a small smile.

You giggled and looked away with a blush. You hadn’t spoken one on one with him since his reunion of the Order so you knew it’d be a little weird at first given your past. “You up for some breakfast?” you suggested cheerily then.

“What, you cook now?” Sirius asked, playful astonishment laced in his tone.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Yes I cook now! What do you think, that I live off of take out?”

Sirius looked down at his feet and chuckled. He used to love winding you up because of how cute he found your defensive reactions and it was comforting to know that still hadn’t changed.

“Ugh. C’mon,” you said, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him towards the kitchen, “you can help me and maybe learn a thing or two in the process.”

His hand was currently cold for some reason and it made you think about how long he must have been deprived of a warm touch from another being while locked up but you quickly dismissed those thoughts from mind and led on.

After getting a proper breakfast cooked up, you and Sirius served up your plates and sat at the table to begin eating. The only sound that could be heard for some minutes was your forks hitting against the plates and some quiet chewing.

“This turned out pretty good. Thought I would have messed it up for sure” Sirius eventually said as he picked up a forkful.

You smiled and grabbed your glass of juice for a sip. “Yeah, not bad huh?”

Sirius reciprocated your smile and shook his head.

The awkward silence from before began to build itself up once more and it made you think to yourself that maybe you shouldn’t be there.

Maybe you shouldn’t have volunteered for this. Maybe the tension and awkwardness would never go away. Maybe any connection you had with him in the past, platonic or romantic, should have been left in the past. But before your thoughts could spiral any further, Sirius spoke.

“I meant to write to you, you know. After I escaped. But I refused to risk getting you in trouble in case the letter was intercepted or something.”

You smiled politely and nodded as you looked down and pushed some food around on your plate.

“Also thought about visiting you but of course I didn’t know what your living situation was.. if you were married, had children.. anything like that.”

“Hey, do you want more food? There’s still some left over,” your voice squeaked at your quick attempt to change the topic of conversation.

Sirius scrunched his eyes. “Why are you avoiding it,” he questioned.

You ignored him and asked about the food again. “I think there’s only enough left over for one more plate but that’s okay I’m full, you can have it.”

“Correction, why have you been avoiding it?”Sirius now ignored you.

“Avoiding what?” you sighed, playing clueless as you stood up from your seat with the intention of picking up your empty plate but before you could, Sirius gently grabbed your outstretched wrist.

“Stop trying to run away from this, you know exactly what I’m talking about. You haven’t asked me once about Azkaban or where I’ve been hiding out these past two years or- or if I missed you or how I’m doing now. Nothing.”

Face saddening, you set your plate back down on the table and took a seat in your chair again.

“Y/n,” Sirius said tenderly as his hand delicately slid from your wrist to your hand. “Look at me. You can tell me anything. Please.”

With teary eyes at his plea, you quietly let out with it.

“It’s just… I didn’t want to make you sad or remind you of what you’ve been through by bringing it up.”

“Oh darling girl, we must talk about it. We don’t have to ignore the reality of where I was or what I went through. I think we’ve both seen we can’t just pick up where we left off and pretend those twelve years didn’t happen.”

“But it was so horrible Sirius, I can’t bear the thought of having you relive everything you lived in there. I can’t let your mind go back there, I can’t let you tell me about it and I… I don’t want to be reminded of your absence either” you selfishly concluded, wiping a running tear from your cheek.

A small smile escaped Sirius’s lips upon hearing the last of your words. Given the nature of the conversation, it was absolutely not the time for smiling but to suppress it was impossible because those last words of yours let him know your feelings for him still existed just as his did for you.

“I promise you it’s alright to talk about all that because you see…I’m here with you now” Sirius assured.

He then pulled a handkerchief out from his pocket and leaned over to gently wipe at your tear stained cheeks. “Not only that, but we’ll be better for it if we do.”

You sniffed your nose and looked into his eyes for a moment before agreeing with a nod once you realized he was right. Painful as the past might be, your relationship would never go anywhere if you insisted on ignoring it.

As if on cue, you both stretched over to embrace each other into a hug and for the first time since reuniting, truly indulged in each other’s presence, scent and warmth.

The rest of that day was spent sitting side by side under a blanket on the couch, with a fire warming the room as you talked about what life had been like for each of you during your twelve years apart. And although your heart broke at his share of stories, for the first time in many, many years you felt a sense of peace begin to build within. <3