#yes her name is shrimp scampi.

[queenychu]

Spent my whole off day conjoining a second cage to Shrimp Scampi's first cage how are yall doing

[strscrossed]

OMG COMIN THRU W THE NANNYKASA!!!! Omg I love it so much!!! You’re too amaze balls!! I would love to see how their first few romantic interactions went and Eren’s pov. I just love the thought of him being so enthralled with her beauty and thinking this is too good to be true

hope this is good! a little self-inting in here!

Eren had no intention of loving ever again. 

When his wife passed, his life revolved solely around work and his boys. For almost a year, Eren had tried the balancing act of single parenthood and running a flourishing law firm. During that time, his mother had stayed over and helped tremendously with the boys. 

But she couldn’t stay indefinitely. And soon it became clear that the boys were going to need a nanny. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of a stranger handling his kids while he wasn’t looking. So he looked. He was brutal in the interview process. He left no stone unturned and some possible nannies even left the home in tears. 

He had no time for that. 

He never saw her coming. It was his last interview of the week, having done this for nearly a month. She was a pretty young woman, something he noticed but chose to overlook for the time. 

He showed her no mercy. But unlike the others, she was calm and collected, had the correct answers for all of his questions and during the test run, he observed how well the boys took to her and how well she cared for them and kept them on schedule. 

She was perfect. In more ways than one. 

At first, he encased his heart in stone because it would be too good to be true. Even so, he found himself staring at her from his office. She handled baby Leo and little Max with so much care. 

From the day their mother died, there was a perpetual rain cloud over the boys’ heads and they hardly ever smiled. With Mikasa, those precious smiles and laughs had returned. 

It was like their mother had come back to them. She wasn’t completely erased, as Mikasa would show them pictures and home videos. 

Slowly, the stone started to crumble and Eren quickly realized that the boys weren’t the only ones whose hearts she’d slowly crept into. 

He tried to keep it professional at first, with lunch and dinner here and there. But he realized it was slowly becoming more and more difficult. 

She was beautiful, gentle, intelligent, and a part of the family. He knew nannies weren’t permanent but the thought of her leaving them – leaving him – was too much. He hated the idea. He wanted her to be here with him forever. 

They spend several months toeing a very fine line. He knew that she was feeling something too because some touches and glances were lingering. 

And then one night, reality just crashed onto both of them. 

She’d just given Max a bath and put him to bed. 

Eren stood by the stairs as Mikasa’s eyes lingered on his sleeping boys before closing the doors. She was almost startled to see him. 

“Oh! Mr. Jaeger!” 

Cute, even her gasps were adorable. 

“Call me, Eren, please,” he grinned and Mikasa returned his smile. 

“Alright, Eren,” his name sounded so right coming from her lips. Her lips, which by the way, were inviting right now– 

No, stop it Eren. Control! 

“I thought we could have dinner. As you know, I’m an amazing chef.” 

She smiled, humoring him. 

“Oh yes. That pan seared salmon was burnt – I mean charred to perfection.” 

Protein and pan sauce was certainly not his specialty but hey, shrimp scampi and linguine was hard to mess up, right? 

She seemed to think so because the moment she took that first bite, there was a look of absolute delight on her face. 

“The key is oregano actually.” 

They chatted about normal things, their days, work, and about the boys. Naturally, 90% of that conversation centered around the boys. 

“They really like you,” he commented as he cleared the dishes. Across the kitchen island, Mikasa sat with a glass of wine. 

“I really like them too,” she said, smiling. “I’m very fond of them. I barely have to do anything at all.” 

Eren laughed, “They’re my kids. I promise their wild streak will appear at some point. I guarantee it actually!” 

“Oh, nothing I can’t handle.” 

Some silence followed as he cleaned up and then they sat on the couch. It was a Friday night and they could stay up as late as they wanted. Mikasa didn’t have to work on weekends, technically she was only contracted for the weekdays. She had a place and Saturdays and Sundays were her days but she spent it with him and the boys all the same. 

It was some dumb movie that Eren put on. Or so he thought. The night started out pretty tame with them sitting a respectable distance away. 

Turns out, it was a horror movie. Not the slasher kind, oh no, it was the paranormal kind. The kind that would have one scared of the dark and quiet places for weeks, 

Another discovery: Mikasa was terrified of horror movies. Somewhere between the demon making its presence known and appearing on screen, Mikasa ended up shaking in his arms. Her face was buried into his chest as she shook. 

He couldn’t say he hated it. He didn’t make any sort of attempt at moving her away either. He rubbed her back and rested his chin gently on top of her head. He wanted to kiss her so badly. 

But it was too much, even for him. 

He turned off the movie and the lights followed but Mikasa stayed buried in his chest for a minute longer before looking and realizing what she was doing. 

She jumped out of his arms. 

“Oh I’m so sorry I–” she stammered but he stopped her. 

“No, It was perfectly fine,” he assured her. 

No more words were exchanged because she quickly retreated and disappeared in the direction of her room. 

He stayed for a moment longer. 

He should’ve kissed her.

[generallybrontidefeelings]

Honey will see the Art

Rating: mature

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader, Marcus Pike x you, Marcus Pike x 3rd person voice

Warnings: bribery but no cigar, a yearning desire to see stolen art, big hands, um...there's no smut it's just cute

A/N: this has been sitting in my draft box for over a year so I decided to put it out in the world because I miss Marcus and Honey and they're silly little romance <3

Honey knows about the secret storage facility all the recovered pieces go to for holding and processing. She doesn't know where it is, but she knows when he's been, because he comes home smelling like turpentine and pencil shavings.

Honey has asked if she can go see it, because she's a curious woman, and she wants to. And he looks awkward and says he isn't supposed to take anyone. Yes, he's the boss, but he has to set a good example.

Does this stop Honey from trying? Nope.

She will see that facility. She's determined.

Over two weeks she accumulates the goods necessary to loosen Marcus up. A bottle of his favorite rye. A plain, white body suit that hugs her curves. She even learns how to make scampi and it only takes two failed attempts.

Marcus wonders why there is so much shrimp in the fridge, and eyes her suspiciously.

Honey pulls all the stops - cleans, cooks, gets a sugar waxing, she will see the stolen art. She must. She grumbles it to herself while trying her silk robe around the bodysuit.

She's just browning the butter for the shrimp when she hears Marcus hang his jingly keys up at the front door of his townhouse. She bites her lip when he clasps her waist in his big hands and holds himself along her back.

"Did you know," he murmurs in her ear, tickling her with his scruff, "that when you were my student-" her cheeks warm up "-whenever you asked for a favor, you would bring me a pastry from the café?"

Honey stop moving the butter around in the pan. Marcus buries his face in her neck.

"I did?"

He sets his chin on her shoulder. "You did."

She turn the burner off but continues holding the spatula.

Does she feel silly standing there with her hair done in her barefeet and bathrobe, looking like a housewife? Yes. Does she regret it? No.

"Well," she says, finding her courage and turning the burner back on, "if you're so observant let's see you guess what I'm going to ask for."

"You want to see the art storage facility."

She drops the spatula on the counter and turns in his arms, crossing her own.

"baby," Marcus says, placatingly, "I'm a detective. It wasn't hard to figure out." He kisses down her cheek to your neck. She stands stock still, unaffected by his affection. However nice it is.

"I put so much work into this bribe," she whines, with his face in her neck. Arms still crossed.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he says, genuinely apologetic. "Would it make a difference if I said I got you this?" From his other hand, the one not holding her back, he dangles a little clip-on badge that says 'consultant' and has her name in Marcus's neat, all caps print.

Honey squeaks. She reaches for the badge, looking at Marcus to make sure its' real.

"I'm a consultant?"

"For exactly ninety minutes on Thursday afternoon you're a consultant," he says, all smiles. Honey runs her fingers over the laminated surface. She clips it onto her silk robe.

"What's my specialty?" she says and picks the spatula back up, absolutely content in her new status as temporary consultant.

Marcus keeps staring at where the little metal clip has dragged the silk to show the curve of your chest.

"Art recovery and negotiation."

Honey stops adding the minced garlic half scoop. "That isn't an art form."

Marcus gestures vaguely toward her and the kitchen with all the goods for shrimp scampi prepared on the counter. Honey's face heats up, and she wiggles her painted toes.

[biggest-stupidhead]

I loved the typo christmas prompt! could you do a continuation of said date on thursday ? I loved the tension between the mc and levi <3

yuh ;) I was hoping someone would ask. 

Summary: Levi always keeps his promises. 

Warning: kinda spicy, kissing and some groping, misogynistic terms (playful/consenting) playful dirty banter. Implied sex

Word Count: 2.5 K 

__

You did a small spin. The dress wasn’t modest, but it wasn’t too short either. Your hands ran down the front of the black dress, the silk felt smooth under the pads of your fingers. You were beginning to regret the choice already, but Levi would be here any moment, there was no time to change. You instead began pawing through your closet in search of an appropriate jacket or cardigan to wear over your exposed shoulders. But the sound of the doorbell interrupted your process. You turned on your heel, the kitten heels you wore clicking against the hard wood floors as you walked through your apartment. 

Upon opening the front door, you found your boss, wearing a black coat, hands shoved deep into his pockets and snowflakes littering his hair. You stepped aside to allow him in, he nodded curtly to you as he wandered inside. 

“You’ll freeze if you go out there dressed...like that.” Levi’s gunmetal eyes scanned your form, your bare legs and arms already prickled with goosebumps. But they weren’t from the cold, they were from the feeling of his piercing eyes on you, scrutinizing you. 

“Good thing I didn’t plan to.” You huffed, snatching your half finished glass of wine off the counter to take a healthy chug from it. He raised a brow and hummed in amusement. 

“Oh? Then what will you wear?” He asked, adjusting his suit jacket and then his tie. You smiled wryly at him and sighed, pretending to think as you leaned against the counter. 

“Hm maybe a chunky sweater with some leggings? Oh or how about a pair of sweats-”

“Just put on a jacket and let’s get out of here. I can’t stand to be in this shit hole another minute.” Levi grunted as he crossed his arms and watched you pointedly as you scowled back at him. 

“Patience boss.” You soothed as you opened the closet to pull out a black trench coat, as you tied it around your waist you noticed the way his eyes lingered on your accentuated hips. 

“Great now let’s go already.” Levi all but ordered as he turned and retreated back the way he had come. You were barely able to snatch up your wristlet and flick the lights off before loosing him around the corner. You reunited outside of your apartment, the front sidewalk was slick with snow and ice, Levi stood, hand on the passenger door as he waited for you. Once he saw you he opened the door and you slid into the car. He all but slammed the door behind you before quickly rounding the front of the car and slipping into the driver’s seat. He pulled out of the parking space and began to carefully weave his way through the thick evening traffic, despite the weather it was busy downtown. 

“Thank you sir....for the extra day off.” You attempted to fill the silence, hands knotting together in your lap as you tried to ease your sudden wave of nerves. 

“You’re lucky that you got that last bit of paperwork in.” Levi chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head slightly, causing his bangs to sway over his delicate brow. 

“Damn straight I was. Not like I could miss out on a dinner date with New York’s most eligible bachelor.” You teased, leaning on the center counsel so your elbows brushed. He grunted and rolled his eyes at your statement. 

“You of all people should know how much I hate being called that.” Levi scolded as he knocked his elbow against yours playfully. You chuckled and placed a hand on his forearm, thumb grazing the inside of his toned arm. 

“That’s exactly why I brought it up.” You pointed out as you turned your gaze back onto the snowy road. 

“You know I could leave you on the side of the road to walk back to your shitty apartment in that slutty dress.” You gasped at his words and your hand flew to hit his chest. Normally you wouldn’t tolerate anybody calling you a slut or referring to you in any demeaning tone. But for some reason the way he said it made a chill run down your spine. 

“E-Excuse me?” You tried to feign offense, but it was poorly disguised. The way your knees seemed to magnetize to one another, hips shifting subtly, grip tightening on his arm. If Levi hadn’t known better, he would have thought that you were asking him for more. So he nodded and allowed the corner of his lip to lift ever so slightly. 

“You heard me. It’s less than thirty degrees outside and here you are...barely even wearing anything on a first date with your boss no less.” Your stomach flipped as he pulled his arm away from your grasp, his cold hand falling to your bare knee. His hand slid up until it reached the hem of your silk dress, his fingers toying with the fabric there. Never dipping beneath the dress, much to your displeasure. Your legs relaxed and you naturally opened them, hoping to coax him to venture north. 

“Hm so this is why you wore this little dress.” His voice seemed to lower a few octaves as he traced the inside of your thigh with his calloused finger pads. 

“Maybe.” You said with a sly smirk, legs spreading a bit wider. 

“Fickle little whore.” Levi growled as he pulled his hand away, you pouted at the loss of touch. He pulled up to a valet parking stand, where he climbed out, the valet opened your door for you, and took Levi’s keys with a nod before climbing into his Jaguar and driving off to park the car. Levi’s arm looped around your waist so naturally, matching your stride as the two of you entered the fancy restaurant. 

“What’s the name?” The hostess asked, her eyes raking over the two of you. 

“Ackerman.” Levi answered curtly, she nodded and motioned for you both to follow her. She led the two of you into the back of the restaurant which was dimly lit and sparsely populated. She motioned to a booth before leaving, Levi slid in one side and you the opposite of him. Your feet brushed against his calves, he said nothing, seemingly invested in the menu. A moment later a waiter approached your table. Levi ordered a bottle of wine and you continued to peruse the menu, the shrimp scampi looked divine. When the waiter brought the wine and asked about what you wanted for dinner, just as you were about to open your mouth and order, Levi spoke up. 

“She’ll have the filet mignon, a six ounce. And I will be having the snapper.” Levi said casually, you stared at him incredulously, mouth ajar as the waiter assured him that the food would be out soon. Once he had left you turned to glare at Levi. 

“I’m capable of making my own choices sir.” You grunted as you slid your foot away from his leg. Levi scowled back at you, eyes dark and stormy as he watched you lift the wine glass to your rosy lips. 

“I’m aware.” 

“Does it excite you?” Your question caught him off guard, he was already taken aback by how boldly the evening had begun.

“What? Be more specific.” Levi scoffed as he lifted his own glass. 

“You like having me right under your thumb don’t you. Be it at work, or keeping me late in the office so I can’t go out, and now that you have me out...you’re even ordering my meals for me.” You spoke calmly and with a steady tone, Levi felt like spitting his wine out, but he managed to swallow it. 

“I’m right aren’t I....Mr.Ackerman.” You smirked knowingly as Levi averted his gaze and fought the blush off of his face. 

“Just be grateful that you aren’t stuck in the office going through my papers.” Levi spat as he leaned back into the booth. 

“Aw come on now don’t be so bitter, if you had wanted me out to dinner sooner all you had to do was ask.” You chuckled, allowing your legs to stretch once more so that they brushed against his own. 

“I mean...when you hired me I couldn’t stop thinking about it....about how handsome you are...” It was your turn to blush once the words left your lips. Levi felt his stomach flip at the admission, he had admired you from afar as well, be it when you made him his tea, staying late with him to finish his projects and go over his paperwork to check for errors. And countless other small acts that made him slowly open up his heart to you. 

“Is that so?” Levi asked with a wry smirk curling onto his lips, your face grew redder as you watched him grin smugly. “Yes...it’s true.” You scowled, not a fan of this humiliation, but then again the churning in your stomach and the shiver running down your spine suggested otherwise. Levi simply nodded, pleased with the response you’d offered and steered the conversation back to a more tame topic. This did nothing to comfort the uneasiness in your gut, instead it heightened the anticipation, listening to him complain about orders from Erwin and how annoying Hange was. You both got your food and ate it in near silence, your knee began to unconsciously bounce due to your nerves. You glanced at one of the clocks to find that it was nearly nine o’clock in the evening, it would be christmas in less than two hours. “So Levi... how old will you be this year?” You attempted to engage in conversation once more. Levi clicked his tongue and set his knife and fork aside, having finished the last of his meal. “Take a guess.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest, the fabric of his jacket and undershirt clinging to his muscles. “Hm...I know that you’re at least five years older than me...so maybe thirty?” You leaned forward, pushing your plate aside and resting your chin on your folded hands. Levi chuckles and leans forwards as well, so close in fact you could feel his warm breath fanning over your face, the smell of wine lingering on his lips. “No.” He said simply, grey eyes dancing with amusement, you scowled and dropped your hand, palms down on the table. Levi mirrored you, his own hand merely inches away from yours, his pinky brushing against yours. “Hm maybe...28 then?” You continued to guess, giving him a hopeful wide eyes stare. “No...older.” “Older!” You couldn’t keep the surprise from your voice, Levi finally linked his pinky with your own as he continued to let you stew on his age. “Maybe 32?” “Older.” “35?!” “Bingo.” Levi engulfed your hand with his own once you guess his age correctly, thumb caressing your knuckle as you gaped at him. “What’s your secret?! I mean you look amazing!” “It’s not like I’m eighty idiot…” Levi scoffed as he gave the waiter a side eye as he placed the bill on the table. “Yeah but you...look so young!” you were shocked, you had no clue he was nearly ten years your senior, having thought all this time that he was a mere three years older than you. “Does this change the way you feel for me?” He inquired, unlacing his hand from yours to sign the receipt. “No...not at all.” You assured him as he placed a large bill on the table, more than enough to cover the bill and tip. “Good.” Levi quipped as he slid from the booth, you followed after him, back out to the front of the restaurant, while you waited for his car he slid an arm around your waist. “Up for some wine?” He asked as the car pulled up to the curb. “Sure. Among other things.” You said coyly as he held the door open for you, ever the gentleman. One of the many reasons that you liked older men was because of how mature they were. How experienced they were, patient and tireless. Levi nodded slowly in understanding as he closed the door and rounded to the drivers side. “We can certainly make that happen.” Levi said, reaching across the council to resume his position, his calloused hand on your knee. “I look forward to it.” You rested your hand over his, enjoying the warmth of his skin as you drove. Instead of driving back towards your apartment, he turned down a road that you knew led to his apartment. You had only gone to his apartment a handful of times, once to bring him papers when he had missed a day due to illness, and once more to pick him up when his car battery had died. “I feel so honored.” You quipped as he led you up the stairs of the parking garage. Levi scoffed and placed a hand on the small of your back as the two of you climbed the stairs. “Here.” He said, stopping in front of a door with a simple mat that said “Welcome to the shit show” in loopy writing. You let out a bark of laughter, knowing that Hange had most likely purchased the mat for him. “Cute.” You commented as you wiped your shoes dramatically on the mat. He scoffed and waved you inside. Once you were in you found the familiar layout, the living room, with classy black leather couches and a coffee table, the kitchen was spotless and the dining room table was clean as expected, the apartment almost looked more like an ikea showroom. As if it was hardly inhabited. Levi shrugged off his coat and then took yours to hang in the closet before wandering into the kitchen. You followed like a lost puppy, watching him pour two glasses of red wine before leading you to the couch. He handed you your glass and you took a swig, his hand fell to your knee once more. This time you angled your legs to knock against his own, his hand slid up and under your dress. The clock on the wall chimed, less than an hour away from midnight, and you knew what you wanted to be doing when the clock struck twelve. “So birthday boy...now that you have me here what will you do?” You inquired playfully as his hand met your underwear. He swallowed thickly, eyes lidded as you leaned in, breath fanning over his lips. He licked his lips, tongue darting out and tempting you to come closer. “Cause...I have a few ideas.” You whispered, lips touching his as you spoke. He groaned and leaned in, pressing his mouth over yours. You giggled and returned his kiss, eager to please. You hoped that your efforts tonight would be enough to convince him to give the office Christmas eve off in the future. As it turned out, your efforts did not go unrewarded. The next few years the office got Christmas eve off as well as Christmas day, and you and Levi continued the new found tradition of dinner, you always wore a skimpy dress, and he always teased you about it. But over the years instead of you wandering back to your apartment, you just ended up staying at his place. After one year you had successfully wormed your way into his apartment, as well as his heart. 

__

Uh yeah so..... anyway. 

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Chapter 2

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

The Hoover building is still quiet at 8 am, weary agents are sipping their second cup of coffee and wrapping their brains around the task of the day. Studying the minds of murderers, rapists and sadistic torturers is enough to spoil anyone’s breakfast, and yet they approach it clinically, objectively. The reward of knowing that you helped take a monster off the streets is barely enough to keep them going, but they do. Maybe even more than that, they live with the guilt of knowing that if they stopped, it might mean one more murdered child or assaulted woman. One more man found floating in the river. So they get up every day and do it again.

Mulder stops by A.D. Kirkbride’s office to say good morning and finds the man angrily shoving the phone back on its cradle with a plasticky crack.

“Morning, sir. Going great so far I gather?” he quips from his spot in the doorframe.

A.D. Kirkbride scoffs, running a hand through his short cropped sandy-blonde hair. Diminutive in stature, Kirkbride is someone to be taken seriously. His pointed features and gold-rimmed glasses convey the gravity of the work they do here each day in his ever-present frown.

“These goddamn worthless couriers are on my last fucking nerve,” he laments, gathering the papers on his desk into one pile with jerky, frustrated movements. “This is the third goddamn time one of them has no-showed. We need that autopsy report from Quantico today, and because this worthless fucking courier decided to get the flu or something, we have to send an agent down there to get it.” He sighs and sits back in his chair, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Can you send Agent Wilkes in here, please, so I can let him know he has to waste two fucking hours of his day driving down there?”

Mulder shrugs. “I can go get it, I haven’t even started on the Marino file yet. It’s a nice day for a drive.”

Kirkbride eyes him skeptically. “You’re a senior agent, Mulder. You’ve earned the right not to be the bitch-boy.”

Mulder laughs good-naturedly. “I appreciate that, sir, but I really don’t mind. I just got the new Radiohead cassette, it’ll give me a chance to listen to it.”

Kirkbride nods and puts his glasses back on. “I guess it’s Wilkes’ lucky day, then. It’s the autopsy report for the Dugan file, you should be able to get it from the pathologist on duty. And don’t fuck around, we need it ASAP.”

Mulder puts a hand to his chest and makes a mock-wounded face. “Me? Fuck around? I would never, sir.”

Kirkbride shakes his head with a smirk and turns back to his computer. “Get the fuck out of here, Mulder.”

It’s a beautiful late-Spring day and Mulder really does appreciate the opportunity to take a drive to Quantico, even during the morning rush hour. Removing his suit jacket and loosening his tie, he pops in the cassette and merges onto I-395 South as Thom Yorke sings Paranoid Android.

Ninety minutes later, he’s parked near the morgue; having worked out of Quantico for years before securing a spot on the small team of criminal behavioral analysts who operate out of the Hoover building, he knows his way around. He first pokes his head into the office the pathologists share and, finding it empty, he moves on to the autopsy bay. The slabs are all clean and free from corpses, which is a relief. As many crime scene photos as he’s seen, the live version always gives him the creeps. A young woman in blue scrubs is perched on a stool with her back to him, filling out a form by hand. He approaches her, speaking when he’s still several feet away so he doesn’t startle her.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for the pathologist on duty,” he says, and she swivels on her seat, her shoulder length auburn hair swinging gently with the motion.

When she turns to face him, he’s momentarily struck by how pretty she is. Her red hair is complemented by ivory skin, a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her Grecian nose. Her eyes are a brilliant shade of blue, not unlike the morning sky he’d enjoyed on his drive down.

“I’m the pathologist on duty, how can I help you, Mr.-” she looks at him expectantly.

“Mulder, Agent Mulder,” he replies, stepping forward to offer his hand.

“How can I help you, Agent Mulder?” she asks, taking his hand with a firm, confident grip, though her palm is dwarfed by his own broad paw.

“I’ve been tasked with picking up the Dugan autopsy report. Seems like there was a snafu with the courier,” he offers, stuffing his hands in his pockets in an attempt to act casual.

She stands, and he’s again struck, but this time by how short she is, barely reaching his shoulder in her sneakers. “That’s an odd task for an agent, isn’t it?” she says as she moves to a small filing cabinet and rifles through its contents.

He moves to stand beside her, leaning against the wall. “I suppose so, but I don’t mind. Nice to take a break from profiling sociopaths now and then.” He feels his heart do a little leap at the small smile that quirks at the corner of her mouth in response. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name,” he continues.

She turns to him, holding out a file. “I didn’t give it,” she says dryly. “It’s Dana Scully. I did this autopsy myself, actually, and I’d be interested to know what you make of it.”

He opens the file and leafs through its contents as she returns to her post on the stool, picking up her pen. She appears to see this conversation as concluded, but he doesn’t feel ready for it to end just yet.

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard a bit about this case, though it’s not one I’m assigned to. What interests you about it?” he asks as he follows her back to where she’s sat down, taking the stool beside her without invitation. She quirks an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t say anything about it.

“My findings indicate that though there is only one entry point for the stab wound, there were at least 15 distinct entries into that same location, which would suggest that the assailant stabbed him in nearly the exact same location repeatedly. I suppose I’m wondering what would possess someone to do that.”

He watches her speak with rapt attention, transfixed by the soft, sibilant S’s that pour from her pouty mouth.

“Hey Scully, do you know of any good coffee places around here?” he asks hopefully, completely changing the subject.

She gives him a curiously incredulous look. “Scully is my last name, my first name is Dana,” she answers.

He studies her for a moment, then shakes his head slowly. “You don’t look like a Dana,” he finally says.

Her eyebrows lift and he can see that she’s fighting back a smile. “Really? What do I look like then?”

“A Scully,” he says plainly, and his heart fills to bursting at the wry smile he gets in response.

She shakes her head and turns back to the form she was filling out. “There’s a place called Cafe Adamo a few minutes away that’s pretty good,” she answers his question.

“Great, are you free now?” he asks, forcing a calm demeanor even as his palms are becoming clammy.

She snaps her head up from the form to look at him with an open-mouthed expression of surprise, and he sees a bit of panic in her eyes. Not a good sign.

“Oh,” she stammers, “I’m sorry, Agent Mulder, I have a boyfriend.” Her cheeks are reddening in a devastatingly cute way.

He keeps his expression neutral, and can’t resist messing with her a little.

“I just meant as colleagues, Scully, to discuss the file,” he says matter-of-factly.

If she was blushing before, she’s morphing into a tomato now. She closes her eyes briefly and takes a breath. “I-I am so sorry, Agent Mulder, that was very presumptuous.”

He smiles broadly, no longer able to contain how much fun he’s having with this exchange.

“I’m just messing with you, Scully. I was definitely asking you out,” he admits, and her eyes go big before she deflates a little with relief, biting her lip and looking away with a soft smile on her mouth. “Thank you for this,” he says, holding up the file. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

He stands and moves to the door, stopping just before he exits. “Say hi to that boyfriend of yours for me,” he adds, “he’s a lucky guy.”

She blushes again and he takes a moment to soak up the image before he returns to his car. Tossing the file onto the passenger seat, he flips the cassette to side B and hits the road back up to Washington, finding that he can’t seem to get his mouth to stop smiling.

————————————————————————-

She slumps through the door at half-past six, dead on her feet.

“Hey,” Ethan calls from in front of the stove, “dinner will be about twenty minutes, if you want to take a shower.”

He knows that she always likes to shower when she’s performed autopsies, not wanting the stink of the morgue to find its way onto any of their furniture.

“Thank you,” she replies, toeing off her shoes and stopping by to give him a quick kiss before she moves to the bathroom.

The hot spray of the shower is a welcome relief and she emerges feeling much more alert. They sit at the table, sharing the details of their days over shrimp scampi and white wine. They tend to be very thorough in their retelling of their workdays, and Ethan gives a play by play of a meeting with his boss before Dana tells him all about a student who challenged her in front of the class and how she shut him down. She doesn’t intentionally leave out the interaction with Agent Mulder, but it doesn’t come up somehow.

After dinner, they curl up on the couch to watch ER together. Ethan is on his back with his head propped up on the arm of the couch, and Dana fits herself into the vee of his legs, her back resting on his chest. He idly traces his fingers across her collarbone and shoulders while they watch George Clooney and Julianna Margulies grapple with being both coworkers and lovers.

This is their favorite show, and yet her mind continues to wander to those hooded green eyes, and the boyish smile that played across his pouty lower lip. He was very cute, that’s without question, but she interacts with handsome men all the time at work; why is this particular one worming his way into her brain? She shakes her head to clear the thought, then rotates her body so that she’s belly to belly with Ethan, her head resting on his chest. He kisses the crown of her head and she sighs. She’s got a good thing here, that much she knows.

Maybe she should have gotten coffee with him, though, as colleagues. Maybe.

[ghstandpucks]

Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch. 9

Hi everyone! I hope you are all doing well! Sorry this chapter took forever! But I hope you enjoy it! I have the rest of the series planned out, and it should be about 6 more chapters. I’m excited about where it is going and I hope you are too! Stay healthy, safe, and enjoy! Let me know what you think! Tags are open!

Prologue Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8

The following Wednesday you were at practice. Bednar had the team gathered in a semi-circle as he informed them of the upcoming schedule before the holidays. “Oh and Coach Y/L/N. In case you didn’t know, we are playing Anaheim this Sunday,” Bednar turned back toward you.

           “Oh yay!” you said, clapping your hands together quickly. You couldn’t help but be excited to see some of your friends on the Ducks again. As soon as you said that though, you had many unapproving looks shot at you from the team. “I mean, oh no?”

“Who are you really rooting for Coach?” Tyson called out.

           “You guys, obviously,” you stated flippantly. “I know how they skate and I know how their skating coach skates so we got this.” Bednar chuckled.

           “I was going to ask if there is anything we should know about your time with the team?” he asked, and you looked at him questioningly.

           “No?” you said, confused at where he was going with this.

           “Just asking. Hockey players make comments and I would like for us to be prepared if they say anything about you,” he explained.

           “Oh,” you said, and thought for a second. “To be honest, I was mostly just around them for a quick showcase, charity events, or galas that they had. I have a few good friends from the team but I don’t think they would really say anything. I was more like everyone’s little sister when I was with them,” you said and everyone nodded. “Oh! If you hear the term ‘little dove’, that’s me.”

           “Little dove?” Gabe asked, and you shrugged.

           “A few called me little duck at first. But then after a showcase at one of their events I had performed in this greyish-pink dress and Getzlaf started to call me little dove. The rest of the team just followed along,” you explained. You caught eyes with Nate, and he smiled softly. You had just told him about that nickname last week when he saw a comment on your Instagram post from Hampus Lindholm. You had posted a funny picture from practice of Tyson laying flat on the ice and you doubled over laughing at him because he had seemingly tripped over nothing. You accompanied it with a caption of how the team always seems to brighten your day with a laughing emoji. Hampus commented “We feel so betrayed little dove.”

           After practice that day, Nate was over at your apartment after having gone to the store to get stuff for dinner. You wanted to cook that night, so he thought it was only fair if he bought the groceries. Since the two of you had started dating, you tended to stay in at his or your place, not wanting to fuel rumors. A picture of the two of you dancing at the gala was posted recently, the media team not thinking much of it, but oh boy did it spread like wildfire. While your fans thought it was cute, Nate’s fans were a mix. You were starting to see how vicious some hockey fans could be.

           You were finishing the shrimp for shrimp scampi when Nate came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I have a question,” he mumbled into the hair at the top of your head. You hummed, encouraging him to go on. “What do you want for Christmas?” he asked. You smiled, forgetting that it was already December.

           “Nothing,” you said simply.

           “There has to be something,” Nate stole a shrimp from the pan and you batted his hand away. He chuckled and kissed your cheek. You finished the dish, turned off the stove, and turned to face him.

           “Well, there is something,” you smiled up at him. Nate smiled back at you, raising his eyebrow in question. “A unicorn.” Nate’s face fell and you couldn’t help but laugh.

           “Seriously Y/N?”

           “Actually, in all seriousness, I want a unicorn that poops rainbows. But I know those are hard to find,” you laughed as Nate rolled his eyes at you. He maneuvered you away from the stove and lifted you onto the counter, standing in between your legs.

           “Why are you being difficult?” Nate asked, humor in his voice.

           “Well what do you want for Christmas?” you asked, smiling widely at him. Nate shrugged.

           “I don’t need anything,” he said.

           “It’s not about what you need. What do you want?”

           “Nothing.” Nate smiled mockingly at you.

           “You can’t say nothing and expect me to tell you something!” You laughed. The conversation went on like this for another 10 minutes, neither one of you giving in. You kept up with wanting a unicorn, much to Nate’s dismay. He knew he wasn’t the most romantic, and really wanted to get this right with you. Since he wouldn’t tell you anything though, you didn’t budge either. It seemed like you had both met your match when it came to stubbornness.    

           A while later, Nate had just got out of the shower and you were finishing putting the dishes away from dinner. As you turned your lights off and made sure your front door was locked, you looked out the window and immediately smiled. It was snowing. Running into your bedroom, you started to grab your big coat and a beanie, shoving your feet into a pair of boots. “Going somewhere?” Nate asked as he walked out of the bathroom, highly confused.

           “It’s snowing outside! Let’s go!” you squealed, throwing his shirt and sweatshirt at him.

           “This isn’t the first time it’s snowed since you’ve been here Y/N,” Nate chuckled, but continued to get dressed to go outside.

           “Yes, but it usually happens when I’m sleeping or at the rink! I haven’t been out while it’s snowing yet!” You bounced around your room, continuing to check the window to make sure snow was still falling.

           “It’s just snow,” Nate said, finally finishing putting his shoes on. You grabbed his hand and pulled him to your front door.

           “Yes, but I’m from Southern California! I always had to drive to the snow. I want to go outside while it’s coming down actually!” You grabbed your keys and left your apartment. Nate allowed you to drag him along, silently amused at your excitement. Luckily for the two of you, your apartment building had a secluded courtyard in the middle so you didn’t have to go out front to the main street. This allowed Nate and you not to worry about being seen together this late at night. That would definitely be the source of more speculation.

           Once outside, you giggled with excitement and ran to the middle of the empty courtyard. Looking up toward the sky, you stuck your tongue out to catch the snow as it came down. Nate walked up beside you and grabbed your hand. You took out your phone and had Nate take a picture of the two of you, realizing you really didn’t have any. What better way to commemorate your first snow in Colorado than with Nate? After spinning around all excited for a moment, you walked back over to Nate and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his sweatshirt as your nose was starting to freeze. Nate held you close to him, looking down and tilting your chin up so you met his eyes. He chuckled softly at your red cheeks and nose, leaning down and fitting his lips to yours. The two of you stood there for a moment, lost in a blissful bubble you had created.  You pulled away slightly and shivered, the cold starting to get to you. Nate smiled softly and kissed your forehead. “Let’s get you inside before you freeze,” he muttered, taking your hand and leading you back up to your apartment. Once back in your apartment and in your pajamas, you crawled into bed and over to Nate who was already laying down looking through his phone. You cuddled into his side and weaved your legs with his.

           “Jesus babe! Your feet are freezing!” he jumped slightly, putting his phone down. You laughed but didn’t move.

           “Poor circulation from tying my skates too tight over the years. Sorry,” you giggled. Nate shook his head, but didn’t bother moving. If being with you meant dealing with cold feet, he didn’t think that was a bad price to pay.

~ ~ ~

           Sunday had arrived and it brought with it the Ducks. You were currently standing by the bench with the other coaches as the team was warming up. You had just finished talking with Bradie Tennell, the skating coach for the Ducks. The two of you were on the Olympic team together and had become good friends. She let you know that the team had been good to her so far, and that made you happy. You were leaning against the board when Ryan Getzlaf skated up to you.

           “How are they treating you, little dove?” he asked, and you smiled at the familiarity of the name. The question didn’t surprise you; he had always been protective. You were young and talented when you first started to skate in Anaheim, and some of the rookies took interest in you. Being so focused on making the Olympic team though, you barley noticed. The captain announced one practice that you were off limits, and they complied. After that it seemed the whole team had become extra protective of you.  

           “Good! They’re a good group. I like it here,” you answered honestly. He nodded and looked back out over the ice.

           “Is that why it looks like I’m about to get in a fight with 29 tonight?” Ryan smirked at you. You found Nate on the ice and smiled at him, and the tension in his jaw seemed to release as he went back to what he was doing. Nate knew you were friends with the Ducks and figured some may go talk to you; but he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy that they could talk to you so openly and no one would question it while the two of you had to date secretly.

           “He’s just protective like you are,” you tried to laugh it off, but Ryan gave you a look that said you were not fooling him. You smiled sweetly and he shook his head.

           “Whatever you say little dove,” Ryan said and skated off.

           “Be nice!” you yelled after him and he let out a laugh.

           “Will you stop fraternizing with the enemy Coach?” Tyson asked skating into the box.

           “Just for you Tyson,” you winked at him.

           Later, the third period had just began and the teams were tied. The whole game had been a back and forth with scoring. A few times when one of the Ducks would skate by, they would say hi, wave, or wink at you. The winking seemed to happen only when Nate was on the bench, and you were wondering if Ryan had said anything. You needed to work on being a better liar.

           Nate was on the ice when Hampus Lindholm skated by before a face off. “You know, we were all sad when Y/N left us to come here. I would think she’s a good coach,” Hampus judged Nate’s reaction. Nate side-eyed him, but didn’t say anything. “She’s cute too,” Hampus pushed a bit further. The Ducks’ captain had said that chirping about Y/N was off limits, but he had also said he felt it may get under MacKinnon’s skin. When you talked about being friends with some of the Ducks, Hampus was one of them. He didn’t want to be disrespectful toward you, but he thought it would be fun to see if he could push the center’s buttons. Nate took a deep breath and continued to ignore him. “You know she was my date to a charity event once,” Hampus continued. Nate did know this; you had told him you went as friends since you were going to the charity also. He knew it was nothing, he knew Lindholm was trying to dig at him, but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t bother him. When the puck was dropped, Nate threw himself into the defenseman, promptly flattening him out on the ice.

           Nothing was called and the play kept going, but you stood behind the bench with wide eyes. What had just happened? You were so distracted in your own thoughts that you hadn’t realized the buzzard had gone off, signaling an Avs’ goal. Turning your attention back to the team celebrating at the end of the ice, you saw them all gathering around Nate. Of course you had missed it. That was the only score of the third period, the Avs winning 3-2.

           After the game and interviews were done, you had said bye to some of the guys and Bradie. Nate had asked if you wanted to stay at his place that night, so you made your way to his apartment. You texted him that you were there, and he told you the front was unlocked. Upon walking into his apartment, he called you over to the couch where he was laying down and pulled you down on top of him. You gave him a quick kiss, then settled your chin on his chest, looking at him expectantly. “So,” you started. Nate knew where the conversation was going.

           “You really did just go to the charity thing with Lindholm as friends, right?” he asked, furrowing his brow a little.

           “Yeah, that’s all it was. Why?”

           “He said you were his date,” Nate shrugged and started to play with your hair, twisting and untwisting a strand around his finger.

           “As friends. I have no feelings for him whatsoever,” you explained, then realized why he was asking you to clarify. “Is that why you hit him so hard during the game?” Nate averted his eyes from you, slightly ashamed he let what Lindholm had said get to him. You giggled, knowing that was the issue. “Nate, babe. There was nothing there, nor will there every be anything there. And that goes for the rest of everyone. Don’t let it get to you okay,” you said, kissing him softly. You pulled away and rested your palm against his cheek. “Plus, he’s not my type.” That perked Nate right up.

           “So, what is your type?” he wrapped his arms around you with a smirk.    

           “Big, burly, 6-foot Canadians with blue eyes who are just as stubborn as I am,” you smirked at him. Nate rolled his eyes, but laughed and pulled you in for another kiss. He flipped the two of you so that your back was to the couch now with him hovering over you. Nate started placing quick kisses all over your face and you giggled as his stubble tickled your neck. The two of you stayed like that for a while longer before ordering take out and getting ready for bed.

~ ~ ~

           The holidays fast approached, and you were thankful the team had four days off for Christmas. You had already booked a flight back home for the morning of Christmas Eve, and would be flying back to Denver on the morning of the 26th. For you, going home was easy as it was only a two in a half hour flight. You had booked it when you first got the schedule back in September. You were starting to feel bad that not everyone on the team would be going home though, Nate included. If you had known that you would have been in any sort of relationship, you may have opted to stay as well. When you brought this up to Nate, he told you not to worry about it, and that he would even take you and pick you up from the airport.

           On the 23rd, you and Nate had just got back to your apartment after having dinner with everyone who was still in town. Since there were multiple people going, you figured nothing would come of it to be seen out with Nate in public. The two of you were still keeping your relationship from mostly everyone on the team, so it was easy to act like you had been at practice. To anyone who didn’t know, it just looked like you two were good friends.

           You showered and put your pajamas on, setting out your present for Nate on the coffee table and finding a movie to watch while he showered. You had settled on watching a Hallmark Christmas movie, because who doesn’t secretly love the cheesiness of it all? Nate sat down next to you on the couch and pulled you into his side. Placing a blanket over the both of you, you settled into watching the movie, pointedly trying to ignore the Christmas gift bag he had set down on the coffee table next to your gift to him.

           After the movie, you turned the tv off and just enjoyed being in each other’s company. The only lights on were the Christmas lights from the fake tree you had set up, and other Christmas lights you had decorated with. Your apartment looked a bit like Christmas exploded in it, but it made you happy and Nate laugh. You made some hot chocolate, and sat back down facing Nate. Handing him his, you took a sip and set your mug down on the coffee table, in turn picking up your gift to him. “Present time!” you sang, handing him the gift. You weren’t sure what he would think of it, realizing it was difficult to buy for someone who seemingly had everything he wanted.

Nate unwrapped the gift, and smiled upon taking it out of the box. It was a wooden watch, one that you had found on Etsy. It was a dark stained wood that you had engraved on the back of the watch face. As Nate turned it over in his hands, he smiled wider and chuckled. You were able to convince the designer to engrave a hockey skate and a figure skate. Above the skates read “Merry Christmas” with the year, and both your initials. “I know you already have a watch, but I thought the wood was neat and I was excited when the person said they could engrave the skates on it, and…” you were cut off from your rambling by Nate pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“It’s perfect Y/N. Thank you,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead and admiring the thoughtful gift. He set it down and handed you the gift bag. You smiled while you took the tissue paper off the top, feeling fabric at the bottom of the bag and took it out. You laughed, seeing the familiar burgundy and blue. Holding it out in front of you, you saw the 29 on the arm, turning it around to see ‘MacKinnon’ on the back. While you unfolded it though, a smaller box fell into your lap. “I know you can’t wear it to games, but I wanted to get you my jersey,” Nate explained as you slipped it on over your pajama top.

“Thank you,” you said, blushing slightly and turning your attention to the box. Opening it up, you saw the most beautiful, small and delicate figure skate charm you had even seen. It was gold with diamonds encrusted into it. Taking it out of the box, you noticed it was attached to a delicate gold chain as a necklace. You turned it over in your hand, feeling something on the back of the charm. You giggled, noticing a ‘29’ engraved onto the back.  “Nate, it’s beautiful.”

“I thought you could at least wear my number to games this way. If you don’t like it we can go get you something else,” Nate looked at you unsure, and you shook your head.

“Help me put it on?” you asked, and turned around. Nate deftly clasped the necklace together. “How does it look?”

“Perfect,” he said, and you grinned at him.

“I love it, thank you,” you said, and leaned in to kiss him. What was an innocent gesture quickly turned heated as Nate pulled you onto his lap, you straddling him. Your fingers carded through the hair at the nape of his neck as his hands pushed the hem of the jersey and your pajama shirt up, gripping your hips. You pulled back after some time, needing to take a breath and maneuvered yourself to where you were sitting in Nate’s lap and leaned your head on his shoulder. Nate chuckled, kissing your forehead.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you can’t wear my jersey to games. I don’t think I could concentrate,” he mumbled. You giggled and pecked his neck, the both of you settling back down.

The following morning Nate drove you to the airport. Thankful for his tinted windows, you kissed him quickly before anyone would figure out who the both of you were and grabbed your bags. “Merry Christmas Nate,” you said, slipping out of the car.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?” he said with a soft smile, and you felt your heart tug at the thought of leaving him for a few days. It struck you that this was the first time since September you wouldn’t be around him almost every day.

“I will,” you returned his smile. Nate quickly reached over the center counsel for your hand, bringing it up to his lips.

“Merry Christmas Y/N,” he said lightly, realizing the same thing you were. You grabbed your bags and smiled, waving as you shut the door and headed into the airport. Nate made sure you were inside the building before he took off, not being bothered by the honks he was receiving from annoyed holiday travelers.      

Tags: @bqstqnbruin​ @avsfans95​ @comphybiscuit​ @calesykar​ @andreiaafaria​

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #346

“i was in a car crash (or was it the war?)  /  but i’ve never been quite the same”

Do you take lessons for anything? No. Has something really heavy ever fallen on you? Not to my recollection. If you wear makeup, what colors do you usually wear? I don't wear makeup frequently whatsoever, but if I do put some on, it's always black. Does your shower have curtains or a glass door/wall? Curtains. If you have more than one pet, do they ever get jealous of each other? Well, one is a snake and one is a cat, so no, they don't. Is there a room in your house that you don’t like going in? No. Do you remember the last question you were asked? What did you answer? Well, besides in this survey, Mom asked me if I wanted some shrimp she didn't finish. A true stunner, but I didn't want anymore. Besides salt and butter, do you put anything on your popcorn? Nothing other than what was mentioned. Are you lonely? To be totally transparent, I'm extremely lonely on multiple levels. What’s your favorite magazine to read? Don't have one. Do you like pineapple? Yeah. But keep it off my pizza. Have you ever seen fireflies? Yeah, they're common in the summer here. Have you ever trespassed? Not to my knowledge. My sister, neighbor, and I regularly visited this shack as kids, just exploring and checking stuff out, and someone eventually did approach us and tell us to leave, but idk if anyone ACTUALLY owned the property? We never saw any signs. Do you tell your parents where you are going? Yeah; if I live with them, they have the right to know. Do you agree with the notion that all people were created equal? Yeah. Do you raise your hand or participate in class? I did. Do you like visiting the mall? Why or why not? Not really, no. Too many people, too many stores I don't care about, too much walking. Have you ever purposely hurt an animal? I've given pets a pop when they've done something wrong, but seriously hurt, fuck no. Would you ever see a therapist? I've seen a therapist consistently since the 6th grade. Are you afraid of heights? Yes. I used to not be, but it's a fear I've developed over time for no apparent reason. Are you afraid of the dark? No. Are you a jealous person? I was literally just thinking about this yesterday how much I hate how I've developed a jealous and envious side. It's not a feeling I used to experience like at all, so it's very uncomfortable to feel. When is your birthday? February 5th. What are you listening to right now? A John Wolfe playthrough of The Sinking City. It's really interesting and is making me wanna read Lovecraft books, haha. Have you ever been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing? Probably at some point. Are you still friends with someone from kindergarten? No. What is the most important thing to you? My mental health. Do you like whip cream? NO. The taste is fine, but I can't handle the texture of it. Are you close to your mother? Very. Are you close to your father? Yeah, but not as close as I am with my mother. Do you walk around bare foot when you're at home? Or do you wear socks? Yeah, I stay barefoot. Do you like chocolate popsicles? Yessss, I love them. Would you ever be your school’s mascot who wears that costume? Ew, no. Would you rather see the Great Wall of China or Big Ben? Probably the Great Wall. Have you ever written a poem? I've written loads. Would you ever be a tornado chaser? FUCK no. Never, ever, EVER. what is your favorite thing to eat with bbq sauce, if you even like that stuff? I hate barbecue sauce. Your parents tell you that this summer, you get to pick the vacation. Where do you plan to go? As a family? Maybe Alaska. What do you think is a good theme for a prom? Um, maybe princesses and princes? It sounds cute, leave me alone. Have you ever had to do a class in summer school? No. Do you get nervous when you go to the doctor? About what? Not very, but somewhat. I'm always terrified to get on the scale and am also afraid I'll find out I have diabetes with how heavily it runs in my family, and I'm not exactly healthy. Have you ever been to the rainforest? No. As cool as it would be, I would neeeever manage. The humidity would murder me. Have you ever created a website? Yeah, a few. Ever thought about writing a book? Yeah. Have you ever had a dream where you killed someone? I don't think so, but I have nightmares ALL the time where I'm fighting to defend myself. Do you ever make up stories in your head and wish they come true? Daydreams? Oh, yes. Which is worse: stuffy nose or runny nose? STUFFY. Having a runny nose surely isn't fun either, but at least you can have tissues handy. Which is worse: Sick to your stomach or sore throat? 100% sick to your stomach. I do nooot respond well to stomach pain. Do you think your last relationship was a disaster? Not at all. Have you ever solved a Rubik’s Cube? No. Who do you think is the easiest to talk to? Sara or Mom. Would you consider yourself to be emo? I don't care for stereotypes, I'm whatever. Do you have a favourite metal band or do you not like metal? I love metal, and my favorite artist is of course Ozzy Osbourne. What is your current desktop picture? My favorite picture of my late dog Teddy. Thick or thin blanket? I like thick ones. Cozier. Who are your favorite bands? Everyone knows my #1 is Ozzy, so I'll list some of my others that just fall behind him (in no order): Metallica, Otep, Marilyn Manson, Korn, In This Moment, Powerwolf, Motionless In White, Rammstein, A Day to Remember, Cradle of Filth, Mother Mother... There's a lot, really. How do you mark through your word search puzzles? It depends on what I have at my disposal, really. I think typically I would just circle the words with a pencil, but I'd prefer to use a highlighter. Have you ever sewn something? No. What did you eat for dinner last night? Mom made shrimp scampi with a side of white rice. It was delicious. Ever been grounded? If so, for what? Yeah, on multiple occasions. I think the longest was when I ran away from home. Have you seen all of the Jaws movies? No; I've only seen the first one with Tyler. I did, however, have the video game as a kid, and I LOVED it. I could never beat the final stage, though. :( When was the last time you played cards? (not on the computer) Months ago with my niece. She was hooked on playing Uno with me because I always let her win. Have you ever drank cherry Coke? Omg yes, I LOVE it. Have you ever had a black eye? No. Have you ever eaten a bug? No. Do you like pranking people? No. Did you ever take a cooking class in school? No. Do you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day? No. Do you use Skype? Only to talk to Sara. Have you ever participated in local magazine cover girl searches? Definitely not. Have you ever been called a skank/slut because of the way you dress? No. Is your ex sexually attractive to you still? Two are. Describe the most romantic moment you’ve ever had. I'd rather not because it'll really set off my PTSD. Have you ever cheated on a test? Nope. Have you ever been to couple’s counseling? No. How often does your employer ask you to work overtime? N/A Did you often read for fun when you were a kid? I read A LOOOOOT as a kid. I was a total bookworm. When was the last time you were scared? Excluding in nightmares that I don't remember, uhhh probably back when my PHP therapist surprised me by whipping out a poem I'd written and sharing it in front of the whole group. It wasn't the "bad" kind of scared, but I sure did feel fear. What’s your favorite song by Rihanna? "Disturbia" has always been #1. There's this '80s synthwave remix of the song that I adorrrreeee. Can you speak binary? Nope. Would you rather live somewhere that had hurricanes or tornadoes? I've dealt with hurricanes all my life and they don't terrify me NEARLY as much as the mere idea of a tornado, so. Have you ever had a pet that you disliked? None that were mine personally, but coincidentally, I didn't like two dogs my little sister had. The first one was just mildly annoying, and as much as I hate admitting it, I literally hated her last dog. When was the last time you saw hail? Maybe like... a month ago or something like that? Time is kinda blurry for me on this. We had an absolute downpour of hail one morning, then just... nothing. What is on your mind right this second: I have this at-home sleep study tonight and I'm pretty much obsessing over "what if I don't have a nightmare?" when, for ONCE, I want/need myself to. To be real, I don't know exactly what will change in my life if I do have a sleep apnea diagnosis or something that we're not already doing, but. Mom more than anyone just wants professionals to see that something is seriously wrong and needs fixing. Have you ever given a nickname to your pet(s)? Both have them, yeah. I think I call Venus "Miss Venus" more than her real name, then she's also "baby girl," "pretty," "beautiful girl," etc. I call Roman just "butt" a lot, haha, then there's "son," "Mama's boy," "bud"... When was the last time you shaved your legs? Not since last October. Nobody sees my legs, so I just don't care. Do you ever try free samples at the store? Sure, if I'm actually interested in the food. Do you like boys with long hair? That's actually my preference. Do you like rootbeer? It's not insufferable, but I'm not really a fan. What is the best fast food place, in your opinion? Sonic. Do you have faith in yourself? What a question to end it on, 'cuz I don't have a fuckin' clue these days.

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Like A Ton of Bricks (Ethan x f!MC)

I miss Ethan. And I literally wrote this all within a few hours, while watching reruns of Chopped. Enjoy!

Summary: Ethan has an epiphany during a quiet night in with his girlfriend.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning: None. Fluff, and more fluff.

Tag List: @canknot @lapisreviewsstuff @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @choicesobsessedd @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @sparklinglilac ��@cream-ray @perriewinklenerdie @barricades-of-freedom @dr-brianna-casey-valentine @doroshi-desu

When Ethan arrives home, he’s greeted by the sound of music. The sultry voice of Toni Braxton flows through his ears and he’s hit with the smell of...lemons? Interesting.

Leaving his briefcase and jacket at the front door, he walks to the kitchen and sees his girlfriend of six months, Naomi rummaging through his pantry. She’s completely oblivious to his presence, singing loudly, gently swaying her hips to the music. He also spots a candle burning on the counter, the source of the sweet smell filling his apartment.

Eventually she turns around, and nearly drops the box of pasta she’s holding upon seeing Ethan! “Ethan! What are you doing?”

“Admiring the view,” he replies honestly. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“How long were you standing there?”

“Not long.”

“Creep,” Naomi grumbles, but Ethan knows she’s doesn’t really mind. She walks over to the other side of the island and properly greets him with a kiss. “Welcome home, handsome.”

“Thank you.”

“How was work? Did you save lives today?”

“Work was...interesting. Interns get more and more annoying each year.”

“No they don’t. You’re just getting older and grumpier,” Naomi argues with a teasing smile.

“No, they’re so used to being coddled. I’m not the type of doctor that’s going to hold your hand as you’re giving stitches to a patient.”

Naomi runs a hand through Ethan’s hair and he leans into her touch. “Well, the work day is over and you’re here with me now. Can you forget about the hospital and annoying interns for the time being?”

“”With you here? I can manage.”

“Good.”

Ethan settles into a barstool at the island and watches as Naomi gets back to cooking. “What are you making?”

“Shrimp scampi over angel hair pasta. Sound good?”

“Sounds fantastic. Have you been here all day?”

Naomi had the pleasure of an off-day while Ethan worked. He would’ve gladly called in sick to spend the entire day in bed with her, but being the head of the diagnostics team meant he had to be responsible.

“I took Jenner for a walk, and he made tons of friends on the way. And then I went to the grocery store and farmer’s market. Warning, I went a bit overboard with the fruit, so we’re going to be drinking a lot of lemonade. Then I came back here and started cooking. All in all, it was a pretty productive day.”

“Maybe I should give you more off-days if it means I can come home to this sight.”

Naomi turns around and glances at Ethan from over her shoulder. “You like what you see, Dr. Ramsey?”

“I like it a lot. I didn’t know you were so domestic.”

“I have a few secrets. Gotta keep you on your toes.”

A few minutes later, they’re seated at Ethan’s dining table, a bottle of Chardonnay between them.

“I’ve known you well over a year and not once have you mentioned that you were such an amazing cook,” Ethan says, digging into his food.

“When I was younger, I was convinced I’d be a chef,” Naomi admits.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I love food, I get excited to try new recipes, I watched the Food Network religiously. And no one realizes it, but cooking is a science. It might not be as high stakes as a hospital, but it’s full of complexity and intricacy. It’s a puzzle.”

“So what made you become a doctor instead?”

“It was my senior year in high school, and I discovered this super hot shot doctor named Ethan Ramsey, fell in love with medicine, and the rest is history.”

“Ethan Ramsey...I assume he’s good? He sounds fantastic.”

“He’s okay, at best,” Naomi teases.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” Ethan shoots back.

“Fine.”

A few hours later, Ethan is sitting in bed, going over some paperwork he needs to sign off on as the department head. He hears Naomi in the en-suite, presumably brushing her teeth or doing some other portion of her nighttime routine.

After a while, he feels her climb on top of him, straddling his waist. Her soft hands slip his glasses off of his face. “Not that I don’t mind the position we’re in but, what are you doing, Rookie?”

“Forcing you to unwind,” Naomi answers. She also takes the paperwork out of his hands. “Leave work at the hospital, please.”

Ethan sighs, but nods anyway. He was such a workaholic before he started dating the younger woman, and she’s slowly made him come out of that habit. He may sigh heavily or roll his eyes every once in a while, but he truly doesn’t mind. Spending time with Naomi was far more interesting than whatever he was looking at a few short seconds ago.

He looks up at his girlfriend, her curly hair framing her face, his old t-shirt that she stole from him hanging loosely off her petite from. She looks adorable. “How do you suppose I unwind?” Ethan’s hands travel up her thighs and settle on her hips. “Because I have a few suggestions.”

Naomi giggles and rolls her eyes, “I’m sure you do.”

“But I’m also content with just being here with you, watching mindless television.”

Naomi rolls over and curls into Ethan’s side. He drapes an arm around her waist. “Whatever we do, I just want you to try to stop being Dr. Ramsey. Just be Ethan. The hospital will still be there tomorrow when we get there.”

“You’re right.”

“I’m always right. Get with the program, Ethan.”

Ethan doesn’t respond and just kisses her forehead. They fall into a comfortable silence, not needing to fill the air with any pointless conversation.

The nights when Naomi stays with him are his favorite. Everything in his apartment feels warm and familiar, like it’s actually a home.

“I love having you here,” he says quietly.

“I love being here.”

“I want you to stay.”

“Of course I’m staying the night, silly.”

“No, I want you to stay permanently.” Ethan sits up, forcing Naomi to sit up with her. He turns to look at her. “Move In with me.”

Naomi is actually stunned into silence at the suggestion. “What?”

“I want you to move in with me,” Ethan says, more firmly this time. 

“Ethan…”

“I love you. And I love having you here with me. I love that you make me excited to come home. I love that for the first time since I’ve lived here, it actually feels like a home, and not just a place for me to sleep in between shifts.”

“Naomi, I don’t say it often enough, but you make life worth living. You’re the only person on earth who I would ever prioritize over work. If anyone else so much as suggested I not think about my job, I would laugh at them, but not you. I don’t want you to just spend the occasional night or two here. I want you here with me, every day. I want to come home to you, every day.”

Naomi doesn’t even realize she’s crying until Ethan wipes a tear away with the pad of his thumb. “What brought all of this on?”

“I don’t know. I guess it just hit me like a ton of bricks tonight, that this could be our lives. And I’ve never felt more at peace.”

“Ethan Ramsey, you have a way with words.”

“Talking about you comes effortlessly.”

Naomi tilts her head up and captures him in a soft kiss. “Yes, I’ll move in with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

Ethan kisses Naomi again, his hands tangling in her hair. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Now...I believe I had a suggestion on how you could help me unwind after such a tiring day.”

Naomi smirks at him. “I think you did. But unfortunately, I’ve forgotten.’

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Ethan flips them both over so he’s hovering above her. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to jog your memory.”

[escarras]

⌠ ALEXA DEMIE, TWENTY THREE, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, BRIAR ESCARRÀ! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in MEDICAL TRAINING + SEDUCTION AND FLIRTATION; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( music through broken speakers,  highlighted passages in a book, doing things after being told she couldn’t ). when it’s the (GEMINI)’s birthday on 06/13/1996, they always request their SHRIMP SCAMPI from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ mack, 20, she/her, est ⍀     suzume best friend wc.

briar was born to two actual loving parents - ik, crazy for a character of mine! jk. sike!

her mom, chantel was a gallagher girl herself. she has high expectations for her only child. 

her father, martin, was an agent for a different agency.

the two met during a collaboration between the two agencies on a big take down of a common enemy ; eventually, they got married and had briar.

chantel became a housewife — she came from money, so there was no issue of them working anyways. she still did spy stuff on the side and martin was off all around the world for weeks at a time doing spy tings.

chantel cared more about reputation than actually caring for her daughter — they lived lavishly, but her mother resented her child from a young age. she set standards that were quite high.

and much to her surprise, briar met quite a few of them.

briar could tell her mother, frankly, wanted to ride around in lambos than take care of her daughter. and that was fine with briar. instead, she spent her time learning.books became her best friend ; it would remain that way for quite a long while, and anyways, it would help her in the long run. 

much  of  her  life  became  cynical  and  cold.  mechanical  and  stiff.  essentially,  for  her  childhood,  it  was  briar,  her  books  and  the  world.  (  thankfully,  the  internet  was  starting  up  around  this  time  –  chantel  would  die  if  they  didn’t  have  the  latest  machines  for  that  www  ).  this  lead  to  a  world  of  knowledge  and  learning.

she’s  read  all  of  the  ‘classics’  (  her  favorite  is  a  tie  between  lord  of  the  flies  &  1984  ).

by the time she was fifteen, she could speak three languages ( asl, french & spanish ).

she’s also quite the fashionista - though you wouldn’t know it, because she wears the same thing in rotation like a damn cartoon character.

eventually, by the time briar became a teenager her mother found no more enjoyment in cars and money — instead she chose to lead her daughter into the lifestyle of spies. and briar was ecstatic, to be quite honest. 

high school was kind of hard, for briar. she was homeschooled by tutors before being thrown to the wolves of her spy high school, and she didn’t excel in making friends department. 

people didn’t like how cold and closed off she could be - it’s not exactly intentional, but her social skills do need work, even to this day.

she’s attending gallagher to kind of .. stick it to her mom? her mom boasts all the time about how she ( chantel ) did so well at gallagher, how briar has a legacy to uphold … and yeah, she kind of does. but this gives briar the drive to try and be better than her mother ( not that it’d take much personality wise, BUT ). 

more !!

she’s in medical training bc she finds human anatomy so .. fascinating. like we get it u watch greys anatomy — and seduction bc she knows she’s a cute girl so why not use that to an advantage out in the field?

she kind of has a big ego. LMAO

she’s broody and just kind of has RBF? all the time. it’s not intentional – it’s just briar.

definitely always listening to rock bands or pop - no in between, tbh. 

has an iguana named perseus. he’s cool

definitely has baby doll tendencies? once u get passed the whole .. brood.

yes she WILL buy ur love! cash, food, clothes! pls love her.

she’s literally that tiktok of post malone handing out stacks of money.

as ‘hard’ as she comes across, she a big baby. esp while drunk LMAO 

if u call her anything other than briar she’ll gut u like a fish. ty.

[armsdealing]

fill out with muse info.

Name: olivia madeleine clermont Alias(nicknames): liv, olive Age: 30s Date of Birth: october 5, 1987 Spoken languages: quebec french (mother tongue), english (mother tongue), european french (learned), italian, spanish, portuguese, familiar with latin and sign language. Romantic preference: heteroromantic Sexual preference: heterosexual Occupation: art restorer Criminal record: nothing.

Appearance

Eye color: brown Hair color: black Height: 5′4 Scars: some on her palms. Overweight: no.  Underweight: no.

Favourite…

Color: byzantium purple, tea rose, vermilion  -- it depends on the day and what she’d be doing with the color in question. and yes, she does say these names. she’s the type of person that specifies.  Hair color: brown Eye color: brown Song: she doesn’t have one, but as of late she listens to a lot of french pop, like gims.  Movie: jean-michel basquiat: the radiant child (2010) for the story, loving vincent (2017) for the art, in the mood for love (2000) because we love drama in this house.  T.V. Show: she doesn’t watch too much television, preferring movies, but she watched the entirety of the wire and she likes black mirror right now. Food: shrimp scampi linguine. Drink: water. Video Game: words with friends. Candy: amedei chocolates. Ice cream flavor: strawberry.

Have you…

Graduated high school: yes Had sex: yes Had sex in public: no. Gotten pregnant: no. Kissed a boy: yes Kissed a girl: no Gotten tattoos: no Gotten piercings: ears Smoked/drank/done drugs: yes/yes/yes Had a broken heart: yes Been in love: yes Needed surgery: yes Stayed up for more than 24 hours: yes

Are you…

A virgin: no A cuddler: yes A kisser: yes Scared easily: define easily. Jealous easily: no Trustworthy: yes In love: define in love. Single: yes. In a relationship: no Considered mean: no!

Random questions.

Have you harmed yourself: no Thought of suicide: no Attempted suicide: no Wanted to kill someone: yes, but not really. Driven a car: yes Have/had a job: yes Have any fears: yes

Family

Sibling(s): one -- isaac clermont (younger brother) Parents:  amos clermont and yolande letende.  Children: none Pet(s): none

[afteriwake]

Jam Session (5/12) - NEW CHAPTER

Dun dun dun! Something bad happens to derail the loveliness of the evening... This lovely fic that was originally written for @chitarra10 and @justatrashpanda with art by the lovely @manonsoubeyran​​.

Jam Session - Molly Hooper is known for making some of the best baked goods in all of England, and no one knows what her secret is. Her most popular dish is her Jam Tartlets, and it’s a recipe she shares with absolutely no one, not even those who work in her shop. When a new resident arrives in the village, an apiarist named Sherlock Holmes, they begin an exchange: some of her special jams in exchange for his honey. But what starts as a simple trade of sweet foodstuffs becomes so much more when Molly’s shop is broken into and ransacked by someone looking for the secret recipe.

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 5 | HELP ME SURVIVE? | COMMISSION ME? | BUY ME A KOFI?

She was almost floating on air during the dinner, which she had helped Sherlock make. They ended up having shrimp scampi with a homemade sauce, and he told her how in his old profession as a private investigator he’d sometimes gone undercover to get information, and in one instance he’d had to attend cooking classes and had gotten hooked. Getting beaten by a hostile client who didn’t get the answers he wanted about his wife cheating on him had convinced him he no longer wanted to do private investigative work, but as a parting gift to his profession, he’d warned the woman what kind of husband she had married and helped her escape. Then he’d gone back to using his preferred name and retired to the village, with the bees and the violin and peace and quiet.

She noticed then, upon closer inspection, he did have a slight limp, but nothing more than that, really, to indicate he’d taken a beating in the not so recent past. But the fact he offered to walk her home had concerned her.

“I do have a cane if I need one,” he said. “The kind my brother uses, except he prefers an umbrella, but there’s a knife hidden in it, in case I’m tracked down. I tend to bring it with me so if you’re concerned about your safety--”

“No, I’m more concerned that you’ll be in pain,” she said, her eyes wide. “I don’t think I have to worry about my safety around you.”

The smile that lit up his face was the warmest she had seen not just on Sherlock but on anyone in some time. “Well then, I’ll bring it in case I feel pain. But may I still walk you home?”

“Of course,” she said. “I live behind the shop, so if you know where that is, you know where I live.”

“Then let’s make our way to your shop and then I can stretch this evening out a bit longer. I...rather like your company.”

“I like yours too,” she said with a soft voice and shy smile. He went and got a cane and situated himself, and then reached for her hand. She was surprised, but even more surprised that she let herself take his hand and entwine his fingers with hers. It felt nice, she realized, and she knew her heart was opening to him whether she’d intended for it to or not.

They walked slowly, continuing their conversation about his past before he came to the village and touching on some of the things that she had done when she was in uni. He said once his brother had contracted him to find out something about her business and she was surprised, but it had turned out he couldn’t ask the pretty delivery woman if she had a boyfriend and he didn’t want to use his government contacts to find out. Sherlock had said he had laughed his arse off but found out yes, Sally was single. He was surprised to find his brother hadn’t acted on it until this evening, and Molly corrected it that he hadn’t but they had and he laughed again. She found she rather liked his laugh.

Once they got to the shop she noticed something taped to the door. She let go of Sherlock’s hand, frowning, and opened it. Be more careful next time, it said, and with wide eyes she left Sherlock to run around to her home, seeing the door had been jimmied open. “Oh no...”

“Does anyone know you create the recipes in your home?” Sherlock asked as he opened the door with his cane before peering in.

“My staff. Tom knew, damn him.”

“Tom?”

“My ex-boyfriend,” she said with a sigh. “It turned out he was a corporate spy, working for some Moriarty person or other.”

“That name is more familiar than I would like,” Sherlock said with a frown. “James Moriarty is a rather unscrupulous businessman based out of London. He has his fingers in many pies, not all of them legal. Did you leave anything out regarding the ingredients or the recipe?” Molly shook her head. “Good. I’ll have a look. Call Watson’s girlfriend, see if you can stay with her tonight. We’ll call the coppers and tomorrow you can get a proper alarm installed in your home and shop. I can call in a few favors.”

“Thank you,” she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek before he went inside her home to see the damage. In the meantime, she pulled out her mobile and pulled up Mary’s number. She pressed the call button and within a few rings, Mary answered. Before any greetings could take place Molly spoke. “I think my home’s been broken into.”

“Oh no,” Mary said. “I’ll be right there. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m...not, actually. I was having dinner with Sherlock when it happened. We came back to a note taped to the shop door.”

“Oh,” Mary said. “Well, do you still want me to come over? John just left.”

“Yes please.”

“You can stay with me tonight. Sally’s still in London, I think. She called and said they’d had dinner and she had a bit more good wine than planned.”

Molly smiled at that. “Well, then let’s tell her in the morning and not ruin her good evening.” Sherlock came back out with a frown. “He’s frowning.”

“Not good news?” Mary asked.

“I don’t think so,” she said.

Sherlock approached. “Your kitchen is a shambles, and your study has been ransacked.”

“Oh no,” Molly said, her spirits dropping.

“It’s all fixable. And I ensure you, I will call in the favors to help, and I’m sure I’m not the only one.” He pulled out his own mobile. “Have her come over and we’ll survey the store while we wait.”

“I heard,” Mary said from the other end of the phone. “I’ll be there ASAP.”

“Thank you,” Molly said. She hung up and turned to Sherlock. “So I’ll have to close tomorrow.”

“You bake in your home?” he asked, pausing in calling the police.

“Just the tartlets.”

He thought for a moment. “Trust your partners. You can both take the ingredients you need and make them at her home if the store is intact. Don’t let this stop you.”

“Thank you,” she said with a nod. She knew if the store was alright she had all the ingredients for the tartlets, as she kept her honey and jam stores in the store for space-saving purposes. She rather hoped it was alright but as she looked at the back of the store her heart sank that she couldn’t possibly be that lucky again tonight.

[wildborne-archive]

💍+ ?

What was she doing, was she out of her mind? The click of heels echoed against the wooden floor as Skylar paced back and forth, over and over; nervous bubbles roiled in the pit of her belly as she waited for Kemuel to arrive, the two planned to meet for dinner. Her only request was that he not 'pop in' as they had become accustomed to him doing.

The front door opened and her name was called out in question, the Angel unsure of location within the manor. Fingertips smoothed over the silk bodice of the scarlet dress that adorned her lithe figure, then down to adjust the material so it fell just right over the middle of her thighs. A quick glance in the mirror deemed her appearance acceptable before Skylar showed herself; light makeup had been applied prior to cover the dark circles as well as a light layer of mascara. She needn't much of it.

"I'm here, pigeon." White teeth flashed in a bright smile as soon as she saw the man, his presence quelled any anxiety she had prior. Having cooked a dinner of shrimp scampi in a white wine sauce, asparagus and a salad that had a multitude of colorful lettuce, the feline went all out to make the night special.

Midway through the meal, slitted eyes shifted to take in her companion, the man she had grown to love; who had stayed by her side and trusted her with all that he could.  Silently, the feline placed her utensils down, a serious expression crossed features. "I need to say something and all I ask is that you listen?" Her statement had been posed as a request, in the event that Kemuel truly did not wish to do so.

"When I first met you, I thought you curious but also, insane beyond measure. Spewing nonsense about being an Angel and claiming God as your father. It was something I struggled to accept, with my past." Admitting to such was hard, but at that moment her ego mattered little. "But with every passing day, with each encounter...I noticed a change, predominantly in myself. I was more accepting, happier even. You have made me so happy."

A wine glass was lifted to scarlet painted lips, small sips of wine taken to moisten her parched throat. "I let you into every part of my life as well as my mind and body. You've become so integral to who I am today. I can'na imagine my world without you in it. I do'na want to. I..." The tigress swallowed hard. "I think I've come to need you, and I have'na ever let myself need anyone. Ever. Because I once lost everything that I cared for."

It was at that point that she silenced herself, the entire point of her spiel having been lost in the moment of her emotions. With a deep breath taken in, Skylar centered herself. "I love you, Kemuel. And I know there are rules up there..." a fingertip pointed up towards the ceiling, "but I was wondering if you would perhaps wish to be my husband? I can'na think of a greater title to express what it is that I feel, than to be able to call myself your wife."

Features adjusted so that she could stare down at her plate, a slight tremor gave way to the fear she felt at being so vulnerable. "I chose you as my mate, my beast chose you, and I would love it if you would marry me." Finished, the woman fell silent as she waited for the potential rejection, this time unable to meet his gaze. Please say yes...

[dreamsister81]

Jeff, the Bartender, and the Eating of the Stir-Fry

"I have been bartending for a long time; longer than I ever expected in fact. And during that time, I’ve seen things sublime and ridiculous, tragic and trivial, horrific and hilarious. And that was just on Saturday nights.

The unwritten code of the bartender calls for great discretion regarding what we see or overhear, but there are a few stories that , however discreetly, must be shared. And so, while preserving the privacy of most depicted herein, I shall plumb the depths of my elephantine memory and offer you, Dear Reader, this tale of Mexican beer, a shot of Tequila and a bizarre brush with genius.

It was probably my third bartending job at a nondescript but popular staple of the East Village, a 24 hr. continental restaurant. It was the sort of place that has a good burger and fries, but also a pretty decent shrimp scampi, and some surprisingly good vegetarian fare. Even though I had only been bartending about 3 years or so, I was sure I knew everything I needed to know about bartending. However, I also knew that there were all sorts of characters that made up this world that I moved through, and many of them I could never understand. So instead of trying, I resolved to sit back, serve them, and enjoy the ride. One of these was the night manager I worked with at said place. He was a fitness-obsessed Italian-American guy named Jerry who would ride one of his two motorcycles to and from work everyday, and who also had a tremendous Asian fetish.

Now, this didn’t mean he walked around quoting Lao Tzu or played Mah-Jongg on the weekends. Basically, it meant that he loved Asian food and he really loved Asian women. A lot of the staff used to rip him behind his back about his simple tastes, but since both agreed with him, I actually thought that, for him, it was a pretty good deal all around. Jerry was a fairly colorful, witty guy, and he often liked to go in the kitchen and cook the two of us fresh Asian stir-fry populated with various noodles and spices he would get from the Asian market next door. At the start of a typical shift, he’d walk in the door wearing his expensive motorcycle jacket and carrying his helmet and disappear into the office briefly, then emerge still carrying his helmet, and place it at home on top of the stereo behind the bar and ask, “You hungry?” I always said yes, because, you know what? He was a damn good cook.

He’d then disappear into the kitchen, proudly emerging 15 minutes later to hand me a heaping plate of aromatic and exotic victuals and after the first bite or two, he’d invariably ask, “How is it?”

That night it was particularly delicious, and since it was quite slow at the bar, I sat down to talk to my then visiting girlfriend while I consumed the aforementioned tasty stir-fry. As will become apparent later, it is relevant to mention that my girlfriend was originally from Japan, but then living in London. While we talked, I had the plate on the bar top in front of me yet sort at of a right angle from where she was sitting.

Suddenly, the red phone rang at the service bar, which is where the drink orders are made for the tables. I ambled over, still munching on the last spicy bits of kimchee, and began pouring various tap beers, making vodka tonics, and blending strawberry margaritas (as I said, this was many years ago). After a few minutes of doing this, I turned to check on my girlfriend and noticed that someone else had taken up a seat at the bar right in front of my half-eaten plate of stir-fry. He was staring, not at me, as many customers have the irritating habit of doing, but straight ahead. As I looked at him, I though he looked a little familiar.

Thinking it inappropriate, even in a place as casual as this, for my food to be idling there in front of him, I stopped what I was doing and retrieved the vittles, putting them somewhere more discreet, and then asked him what he’d like. He ordered a shot of Cuervo Especial and a Corona and during the transaction, I suddenly realized why he looked familiar. I recognized him as a famous singer-songwriter, critics darling, and current messiah of the downtown music scene.

Adhering to another tenet of the bartender’s code, I said nothing that would indicate that I recognized him and I left him to his drinking. Only the tiniest thought that it was pretty cool to have him at my humble bar while contemplating his next album, and the tremendous creative angst he was undoubtedly feeling ever crossed my mind.

Continuing with the slinging of drinks, I glanced over at my special lady friend again and she gave me a very long intense look of the, “my hair is on fire!” sort. It got my full attention because I had never seen that look on her face before. She signaled me over to her by mildly tilting her head to the side, widening her eyes and pursing her lips slightly. I was incredibly curious as I approached her, and when I got close enough she leaned toward me and softly breathed the words, “He ate some of the food off of your plate.”

I stiffened with disbelief and wondered if I had heard her right.

Then I blinked and looked at her again, my eyes saying, “Really?”

She nodded gravely, and I slowly turned my head toward young Dylan, the only other customer at the bar, nursing his Corona and shot of Cuervo. As our eyes met, I could see that he knew that I knew. And he knew, that I knew, that HE knew, that I knew. I narrowed my eyes at him and he quickly looked away. I looked back at her and she looked at me as if to say, “See?”

Wow.

I then walked past the spot where he was sitting and continued making drinks for the waiters. I needed to think about this because it was very weird. I wasn’t sure what I should do.

Could it be that this handsome, young, angel-voiced rock star, who had a hit record at the time, and was touring all over the world, making television appearances etc. had come into my bar, sat down and surreptitiously eaten the food off of my plate? Strange things often happened at this particular restaurant, but this was bizarre even on this side of the looking glass. I regarded the cooling mess of my celebrity-defiled food, considered the whole situation, and decided I had to say something to him. I wasn’t sure what, but I had to speak out.

But before I could approach him, he sheepishly called me over. I took the two or three steps it took to get there as though it were a funhouse corridor stretched out before me.

“What’s up?” I said, trying to sound cavalier, even though I knew damn well what was up. He began haltingly, “Dude, I’m really sorry about eating your food, I mean-”

I couldn’t play dumb any longer and interrupted him, “Yeah, ummm…What’s up with that? Did you think it was, like, bar snacks or something? ” “No, he muttered.”

At this, I could barely hide my incredulity. “So, I mean, is that just something you do? Go into restaurants and eat off of other people’s plates?” Without a hint of irony or sarcasm, and not sounding like he was trying to be a wise-ass at all he says “Well… yeah.” Flabbergasted, but at the same time, kind of impressed by his honesty, I blurted out, “Well, didn’t anybody tell you that’s considered kind of rude?”

“I’m sorry” he said.

“Uh-huh. Ok.” and I walked away. He had already paid, so he took a last sip of his beer and shuffled, some might say, slunk off, pausing to say again how sorry he was. I simply nodded.

As he walked out, I went over to my girlfriend, who had no idea who he was, and we just looked at each other and shook our heads. I said to her, “Do you know who that was?” Of course she said no, and since she was from Japan where something like that would probably get you thrown in jail for six months, no amount of celebrity or fame could make the incident seem any more strange and heinous to her than it already was.

I still didn’t totally believe it was him until a month or so later, when he came in again. Obviously recognizing me from the stir-fry incident, a faint and slightly mischievous smile crossed his lips.

“Hey man, I was in here last night and I left my credit card, I just came back to pick it up.”

I remembered seeing a credit card clipped to the register so I went and got it. I held it up to look at it and even though I knew what it said already, facetiously I asked him what his name was. As I read the name, he said the words embossed on the card,

“Jeff. Jeff Buckley.”

1996, New York

[champagneandparacosm-archive]

Smile faded when he used her real name. And then she mimicked him, blue eyes narrowing in mock scrutiny as she listened carefully, wondering where this was going, what his angle was. Harley had already given hers. This should have been a simple exchange of freedom and food for information that would save lives. No hidden agenda. But seemed someone had to get nosy. Teeth clenched as he spoke of the Joker and the past she was now ashamed of. "Why are you so obsessed with me?" Teasing tone wasn't as convincing now as she attempted to play off the hurt that came with the memories he'd just triggered.

Eyes followed his, gaze landing on her wrists. Yeah, it did look fishy. He was right. Though she had no desire to set them up or cause trouble, there was no way for him to know that. For a long moment, Harley was quiet, contemplating. To get what she wanted, she would have to tell the full truth. It was a small price to pay for revenge and shrimp. "There's a dead drop going down in twenty minutes at the park, underneath the bridge." And it was an important one, so hopefully, it would earn at least a little trust.

With that detail out of the way, Harley leaned close to whisper, not wanting the camera to pick up her next words. "He… he broke up with me. I have nothing. At least by helping you, I'll have scampi and my freedom." Eyes closed as she continued, "Got ta' thinking about the hell he put me through — the broken bones, the bruises, the attempted murders. He should pay for it with interest." Glassy eyes caught his. "There. Now ya' know the whole pathetic truth. Ya' happy now?" Her stomach sure wasn't, as it gave a whine of hunger.

He knew it worked. He had gotten her dumb flirtatious facade to break. In record time too. It often took hours for Cat’s facade to break before he had cracked the code into her mind and had dissected it. He had already begun to make leeway… 

He couldn’t be sure, however. She could be really good at acting. She was a psychiatrist before all this. Treated the craziest patients and managed not to crack a bit as they recounted all the horribly awful things they’d done to men and women much like herself. She would just sit there and listen. Like spencer was now. This was why they called him in there. 

“Not entirely,” he said without remorse, leaning back and putting the knuckle of his index against his chin, thinking. “You recount the evil your partner has done. Should you be any other victim, we’d happily take your bargain. I’d buy you that dinner myself and praise you for your bravery. But, you aren’t just any victim, are you? He didn’t murder hundreds of people alone, did he?” Spencer remained perfectly still, eyes cool and calculated. “Yes, you could argue insanity. Or Stockholm syndrome. But you were a well-rounded psychiatrist, Harley. You helped people. I want to know what changed. What was so special about this ‘joker’ that had you breaking every professional boundary you instill with your clients to destroy an entire city?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer, though, standing. 

“We will be making sure your claim is valid. Until then, you’ll sit here.” He moved to be released from the room, stopping. He turned his head over his shoulder. With much more compassion he said, “and I will see about your dinner. Black tie optional?” He questioned. He had been to so many dates with murderers. What was one more? 

[juiceboxandcrackers]

I like to be the meat...

Imagine spending two glorious nights with your soulmate and our girlfriend... great food, yummy booze, and a whole lot of amazing sex.

Yes, it was everything you would imagine. Honestly being intimate with new people is laced with extreme anxiety usually. I don’t feel that way with her. And I am still trying to understand it. I am so comfortable with her and well... with them in general. I may be too shy to kiss her sometimes, but I will eventually get over that the more we hang out and get to know each other. Promise!

The first night was pretty tame on account of us driving two hours to get there. I was happy to see her, but I hadn’t had a chance to shave and I was feeling very unfresh so I wasn’t comfortable doing some things (riding Peaches’ face), but I think I made up for it the second night!

Second night, I was able to shower, shave, exfoliate, and doll the fuck up. I am way more confident when I do. I recognize this. Working on it. Anyhow... I made chicken alfredo for all of us and shrimp scampy for Peaches to throw some in her alfredo; three cheese garlic bread, salads, red velvet cake. You fucking wish you were there just for the food now, right? Fucking right, you do.

The night devolved into kinky debauchery and I brought toys! Hitachi, Mister Pinky (I will introduce you later), Yondu the Strap On (another hilarious introduction), a flog, ropes, and assorted lubes.

Let’s start with the strap on, which we both got to use on each other as Daddy gave us a little sex ed from the male perspective of fucking. Yondu is an average sized blue dick we have affectionately named after the Guardians of the Galaxy character. More on that another time. I got to fuck Peaches with it first in missionary. Let me just take a minute to humbly brag on Daddy... because I dunno how he does it. I had the worst time getting my hips to pump like his. Must work on that. I did enjoy being able to kiss and touch her from being on top essentially. My only complaint with Yondu is that I cannot feel what is happening for the most part. She also rode me which I find incredibly fascinating! But it got better. While she was fucking me and Yondu 😂, Daddy put on a condom got behind her and fucked her ass. I....helped.... DP someone! I would high five myself if I could, but I will just play with myself to the thought later. Peaches took a turn wearing Yondu and fucked me from behind. She is a little better at that movement than I am and it felt so good. Daddy removed the condom and had me suck his cock while she fucked me and he fingered my ass. Overwhelming isn’t a good enough word for that feeling. Livvie dove deep into sub space during that... especially when Daddy kept calling me a good little girl for being such a filthy slut. 😍🖤 I enjoy it when he talks like that to me. I get tingles in all the best places.

So... one of my favorite positions eeeeever is when Daddy fucks Peaches from behind and she licks my swollen, freshly fucked cunt. She is just as filthy (if not moreso) and I love it. I always cum so hard during that. Hell.... I cum pretty hard playing with myself watching him fuck her. Also never thought I would like that either but I’ll be damned. 😂😍

So Daddy makes her cum, she makes me cum at the same time... and Daddy takes a minute to get a drink. Next thing I know, Peaches goes right back to licking my clit and it is so intense and I came so hard. It didn’t even register that Daddy was in the corner watching with what I am sure is the biggest shit eating grin ever on his face. I think I really like him watching. I am still in the mindset of not wanting to do anything without Daddy, but him being there and watching... yup. I absolutely know that he would enjoy himself. Just like I do watching them!

Anyway..... I have dinner to make and photos to edit... and I would enjoy some alone time with Daddy.

This weekend was so much delicious fun.

🖤💋Livvie💋🖤

[loserholland]

Daddy

Cody Christian

Tbh we all know and think Cody has a daddy kink like come on now. And I’ve always always ALWAYS wanted to write a cody imagine/smut with him having a daddy kink and I”M FINALLY DID IT! proudasf enjoy! I’d love to be his bitch (; I mean come on who wouldn’t want to be?

Warning - daddy kink galore damn, spanking, slight bondage just using his tie to hold your wrist together, just lot’s of stuff happening. Just drink holy water… please & first smut ever so spare my life and dignity and feelings.

p.s feed back is much appreciated this is my first smut don’t hurt my feeling please

Word Count - 2,375

A/N The “butt hurt little girl.” part my ex told me that once when I was annoying him when he was asleep lol. & named the waiter after him omg what’s wrong with me

[Masterlist]

(Y/N) sprawled across the king size bed that her and Cody shared her hands ran up the side of the silver sparkly dress “Cody!” She called knowing he’d be quite angry that she changed her outfit that Cody had picked out for her. They were suppose to meet up with her parent’s that were in town and had made dinner, (Y/N) knew that Cody would be quite pissed especially since it was almost time to meet up with her parent’s. He walked out dressed in a suit fiddling with his tie  “Princess, do you mind helping me?” his eyes were set on his tie not minding (Y/N) who stood before him “Of course love, but I have a question.” Cody hummed “Do you like my dress?” he didn’t look up at her but said “Oh of course baby I love your dress I picked it out for-” He eyes finally came in contact with the dress “Now, that’s not the dress I picked out (Y/N).” you knew it made him angry but continued to push at his buttons “But daddy I like this dress! Isn’t it lovely.” (Y/N) said in awe “But you know what’s my favorite part of the dress?” She placed her hand on Cody’s chest removing his hands from the tie allowing myself to fix his tie “the choker is my favorite part.” I whispered.

Cody hand wrapped around her throat causing (Y/N) to moan “Now (Y/N) that’s strike one” He squeezed a little on both sides of your neck you were wet by the sensation he was giving you “if you continue to be a bad girl you’ll be punished.” this caused (Y/N) to smile that was her main goal for that night “Now go change into the outfit that I picked out for you.” 

Once she got the dress on Cody came up from behind her to zip up the dress (Y/N) rubbed her ass lightly against his crotch Cody grabbed her hips staring at their figures through the body size mirror in their walk in closet “Strike two (Y/N) now we’ll make this quick. Come on now kitten.” Cody sat on the chair in the corner allowing her to bend over “Count for me kitten.” Cody’s hand came in contact with her plump round ass “One, thank you daddy.” by then her panties were soaked “Twenty, thank you daddy.” he pulled her up to wipe the tears away “Now grab your purse babygirl, we’re late.” (Y/N) ass was so numb Cody could read it on her face he scooped her into his arms “You see, if you weren’t being a butt hurt little girl we would’ve been with your parents by now.” 

“Hi Mr & Mrs.(Y/L/N) we’re so sorry we’re late.” Cody said pulled the chair out for (Y/N) who secretly rolled her eyes she had a plan for him. The waiter came by “Hello I’m Gabriel I’ll be your waiter for tonight, what will you folks be ordering tonight.” (Y/N) placed her hand on Cody’s thigh resting it their while her parent’s ordered Cody glanced at (Y/N) who was looking through the menu he leaned in placing a kiss behind her ear “What do you think you’re doing kitten.” she inched her hand higher near his crotch “Be careful love, you don’t want another punishment do you?” She smiled “Maybe…maybe I want to be punished.” She unzipped his pants running her finger over his bulge “What would you two like?” the waiter asked “I’ll have a Ceaser Salad & a long island ice tea.” She felt Cody grab onto her wrist shooting her a glare “I’ll have a Shrimp Scampi & a Coke.” The waiter nodded and left to put in their order.

(Y/N) pulled out his dick that was already erected she pumped it slowly running her fingers over the pre-cum slowly taking it into her mouth keeping eye contact with him as he clenched his jaw  “So, how are you enjoying the L.A weather?” Cody questioned trying to distract himself from his girlfriend. “Oh it’s lovely, it’s humid but manageable.” They went on to talk between (Y/N) and Cody, his dick twitched in her hands causing (Y/N) to smile picking up her pace watching Cody draw in a sharp breathe drinking his water trying to suppress his moans “Cum for me baby.” she cooed in his ear watching him come undone in front of her and her parents who seemed to be in their own world. 

Once the food came Cody hadn’t said a word to you till you felt his hand rest on (Y/N) thigh she glared at him slapping his hand away. He hiked her dress up brushing his finger’s against her wet core she had no time to put on underwear so Cody had easy access to run his fingers along his slit “Cody, stop.” she pleaded grabbing a hold of his wrist “Stop.” she whispered again.

“(Y/N)?” her parents called “How’s school going?” She opened her mouth to answer but quickly shoved some salad moaning “This is some good salad.” Cody slowly pumped his fingers into her aching core “School’s great school is fine.” she began to stuff more salad into her mouth trying to cover suppress the moans. Cody added another finger then used his thumb to brush against her clit she grabbed her drink choking on a moan Cody began to pump faster curving his finger against her g-spot as he continued to use his other hand to eat, she grabbed onto his wrist warning him that she was about to cum “Cum for be baby.” he tone was raspy he watched as she came undone. She cleared her throat excusing herself to use the restroom. “Well, look at the time! Cody would you like to order a cheesecake to go?” (Y/N) father asked “Oh, yeah I’ll get two celebration cheesecake.” 

Cody went to check on (Y/N) her parent’s said they’d wait outside for them  he knocked on the women’s restroom “(Y/N) let’s go.” Cody demanded she slowly opened the door stepping she knew that Cody was going to punish her for the way she’s been acting tonight “Strike Three kitten, now let’s go home so I could fuck you senselessly.” He whispered in her ear as they left the dimmed hallway to the restrooms to bid (Y/N) parent’s goodbye.

The ride back home was silent Cody’s grip on the steering wheel made his knuckles turn white “Babe?” (Y/N) whispered “Baby?” she tried again, “Daddy?” He gave her a quick glance then turned his attention back on the road “Babygirl, if you’re trying to apologize to get out of your punishment just know that’s not going to work.” she clamped her thighs together trying to create some friction to her aching core. Cody pulled up to their house pulling into the garage once he got the garage door closed he quickly got out and helped (Y/N) out of the car only to push her up against the side of the car his hand wrapped around the back of her neck causing her to gasp “Now kitten, I’ll give a head start. Go pick out your favorite tie for me and I want you to be naked got that kitten. Oh and keep those heels on” She nodded falling submissive under him “Got hit kitten?” he squeezed the side of her neck slightly “Yes daddy.” He released her allowing her to enter the house slapping her ass playfully as she made her way up the stairs.

Cody’s footsteps echoed through the hallways he entered dim master bedroom that he and (Y/N) shared he walked towards her every step he took she grew wetter by the minute and needed him. He walked towards her taking in the sight of her naked body “Turn around kitten.” she obeyed handing him her favorite tie of his “Is it too tight princess? I don’t want to hurt those pretty little eyes of yours.” He whispered bitting onto her earlobe “No daddy it’s just right.” She felt him turn her around peppering kisses on her shoulder blade working his way up to her sweet spot she let out a sweet moan causing cody to smile against her skin kissing along her jaw making his way to her lips.

His lips ghosted over hers (Y/N) let out a sweet cry “Please.” she whispered “What is it love?” he asked “Please, please daddy kiss me.” she answered his hands rested on her hips pulling her into a passionate kiss his tongue ran over her bottom lip allowing him access as they fought for dominance. Cody tapped the back of her thigh telling her to jump she moaned when her folds came in contact with Cody’s pants “Kitten, don’t even try to make a noise.” she bit onto the bottom of her lip her back came in contact with their king size bed.

“Hands up kitten.” she felt her hands being tied to the head board of the bed “Now, kitten you will not speak nor will you cum without my permission.” Cody’s voice was filled with dominance full of authority “Got it kitten?” she nodded not knowing if she could speak up or not. Cody’s hand came in contact with her ass cheek “Kitten, use your words.” she nodded “Yes daddy, I understand.” 

He trailed kisses down her body leaving lovebites on her neck, boobs, stomach and inner thigh. He licked a bold strip through her slit (Y/N) couldn’t help but choke back a moan she brought her bottom lip between her teeth drawing holding back the sound of pleasure.

Cody sucked on her clit inserting a finger into her pumping slowly curving his finger upwards towards her g-spot adding a second finger adding more pleasure. Her breathing became heavy as she felt a familiar knot in her stomach “You’re close aren’t you kitten?” Cody’s voice echoed through the room she nodded “What is it kitten?” Cody asked as he harshly sucked on her clit pumping faster hitting her g-spot constantly “Come on now use your words.” she gasped her chest raising up and down due to her heavily breathing “I’m so close daddy please, please let me cum!” (Y/N) pleaded.

“Kitten why should I?” Cody asked attaching his lips to her left boob while his other hand massaged her right boob feeling the bud harden under his fingers twisting at it while he used his teeth to tug at the other “Because, I’ll be a good girl daddy. I’ll use what ever you say, please daddy please.” He lowered himself back to her aching core sucking harshly on her clit “Come on kitten cum for me.” she finally released he licked up her juice leaning back up to connect his lips to her’s. “You taste amazing princess, but I waste no time.” Cody quickly undressed himself and without warning slammed into her (Y/N) let out a scream of pleasure.

Cody undid the blindfolds looking into his princess’s eyes. Which quickly closed due to the pleasure he was giving her “Princess open your eyes look at me.” her eyes remained close he wrapped his hand around her throat causing her to moan as he pulled out quickly. Her eyes shot open “But daddy I-” Cody slammed into her without any warning “Open your eyes princess let me see those pretty eyes.” They kept in contact their foreheads resting against each other Cody lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and grabbed onto the headboard slamming into her endlessly their moans filled the room “Daddy, I’m gonna.. I’m gonna cum!” (Y/N) cried out looking into Cody’s eyes she kissed him hungrily she pulled at the ties around her wrist wanting to run her hands through his messy hair “Hold on kitten not yet.” he cooed leaving new lovebites on her neck.

“Cum for me princess.” (Y/N) soon became undone under Cody who not so long after reached his high. Cody took off her heels and took off the ties from her wrist kissing them due to the redness and the way she tugged and pulled against it. He grabbed his dress shirt placing it on her body like she was the most fragile human being on earth. He grabbed his underwear slipping it back on “Baby did I hurt you?” he asked in a hushed voice (Y/N) smiled kissing him passionately “Of course not.” she brushed her fingers against his cheek she kissed his jawline making her way down to his neck peppering kisses here and there as he pulled her onto his lap she placed her head in the crook of his neck “You know I love you.. I’d never hurt you.” Cody said holding her in his embrace she leaned back to look at his face “Of course I do. I know you would never hurt me. I love you more.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips laying her down beside him. “Goodnight princess. I love you.” “Goodnight babe, I love you.”

(Y/N) woke up to an empty bed her body felt weak she touched her neck looking down at her body the art work Cody had done. Just then Cody walked in with a tray of pancakes and bacon “Morning princess.” He placed the tray at the on the desk when he notice (Y/N) trying to stand up but her legs ached from last night “I’m sorry love, does it hurt?” he asked scooping her into his arms placing her back in bed “Just feel a little weak, baby you didn’t hurt me.” she kissed his cheek he went to grab the tray “Breakfast in bed with my princess.” 

Cody leaned in to place a sweet passionate kiss on her plump lips.

“I love you.” Cody whispered 

“I love you more.”