#your little meatball was the only one dancing

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

I'll come pick it up after pt.3

John Egan X Female! Reader

Sumarry: Tonight is the celebration for the soldiers. Bucky hopes to see his nurse there...

Warning: +18/ almost smut/ swearing/ use of Y/n/ historical innacuries/ flirting/ Buck being a cock block/ alcohol/ mention of injuries and blood (like once)/

Word count: 3,05k

A/n: Y'all... I got carried away writing this, but I don't think you'll complain. Please let me know what you think. :) (also her dress is like Leisl, from sound of music)

She was looking at herself in the mirror, she just finished getting ready for tonight’s celebration. The men that was bleeding today was alive, she succeeded in finding the artery to stop the bleeding. He was going to make it. She wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, going to tonight party, after all, there is a sexual tension between her and Major Egan. She had to keep her professionalism earlier, he was staring at her like she was the most beautiful woman on earth. And she felt like it, that’s why she was all dressed up, that’s why she was going to the party. Her dress was long, stooping at her mid-calf, perfect for dancing. The dress was light pink, it was perfect for her tanned skin, her hair was put in a crown braid, with small pieces of her hair falling down. She didn’t put too much makeup, just enough to change her everyday look, she put lipstick on, it was red, but not too much. She felt pretty, and she was sure that John Egan was going to agree with her.

Bucky was getting ready for the party with his friend Buck, telling him all about the nurse that healed him today. ‘’Wait, so you asked your co-pilot to punch you in the face, so you’ll have time with her?’’ Gale Cleven was in disbelief, he couldn’t believe what his best-friend was telling him. ‘’Yeah, I know it’s a good idea! And she flirted with me’’ John Egan had heart eyes, he was smiling and was taking extra time to get ready. Buck rolled his eyes in annoyance before signing. ‘’You do realise that you sound fucking crazy, right?’’ Buck was trying to reason his friend, but that battle was lost before it even began. Major John Egan had a crush, and no one could stop that. ‘’I hope she’s here tonight, so you can properly meet her’’ Bucky said, fixing his hair, again. It was official, Buck’s best friend had gone crazy, over a woman. His lady’s men reputation was long forgotten, John Egan was head over heels over Y/n Hamilton.

She entered the room with the other nurses. It was early, but there were some soldiers already there. Harry Crosby was one of them, he was the humblest person Y/n had ever met. He’s sweet, they talked a lot when she arrived at the base. He was the one of the few that welcomed her at the base. But he was busy talking with his friends. Some of the nurses were getting stole away by some soldiers that wanted to dance with them. Y/n always made sure that her girls were comfortable with their dancing partner. They even made a code, in case a girl isn’t comfortable, one of the nurses, or Y/n, would go see the girl and asked if they had received needles, if the girl said yes, she needs help. For the youngest nurses, Y/n was like a big sister, she’s only 23, but the other girls liked her very much. She heard a bark and knew that it was Gale Cleven’s dog, so John Egan was certainly with him.

Bucky entered the room with his friends, looking for only one person. His nurse, was she here? Meatball ran towards the group of nurses near the wall, and that’s when he saw her. She was magnificent, her pink dress made her tanned skin even more tanned, her hair left her neck exposed and she wore heels, making her a little bit taller. ‘’Whenever you need to find her, ask Meatball’’ Buck laughed as his dog came back to him, with the beautiful nurse. ‘’I’m starting to think that this lovely dog is confusing me with a stick’’ She laughed as she walked to the two men. Cleven smiled, but Bucky smiled even more. ‘’I should train him better, so he doesn’t try to bite you’’ Gale responded. ‘’If he ever bites me, do you know where the nurse’s office is? They didn’t give me a proper tour’’ she says, acting clueless. Bucky laughs as his best friend leaves to go talk to another soldier. Leaving Egan and Y/n alone.

‘’You are breathtaking, darling’’ Major Egan says as he takes her hand to kiss the top of it. Butterflies flying in Y/n’s stomach, when his lips leave her hand, it feels cold. ‘’Thank you, Major Egan- ‘’ ‘’Please call me Bucky’’ ‘’Thank you Bucky, you look really handsome too’’ They both blush a little, the tensions between the two of them is still there. ‘’You know, if you want a proper tour of the base, I can give it to you’’ Bucky proposed. ‘’Maybe later, tonight about you, and all the other guys that were on the mission’’ she says as they start walking towards a table. ‘’Do you want something to drink, darling?’’ She nods. ‘’I’ll just have whatever you’re having’’ she answers. ‘’Coming right up milady’’ he says with a poor British accent to make her laugh. When Bucky’s back is turned, one of the youngest nurses, Daisy, runs towards her table. ‘’Oh dear, was that Major John Egan?’’ she askes, grinning like a child. ‘’Yes, it was, why?’’ Y/n giggles. ‘’Was he flirting with you?’’ she nods, and Daisy takes her both hands. ‘’I heard rumors about this morning – ‘’ ‘’Daisy you know we don’t gossip’’ she frowns, but she’s still interested about what the rumor’s about. ‘’Yes, but this one is interesting, I heard that Major Egan asked his co-pilot to hit him so he could spend time with you!’’ Daisy quickly whispers. She gently taps her hands away. ‘’That’s absurd, Daisy, but hey, could you maybe go check on Molly?’’ Y/n asks. Daisy nods and walks away before Bucky returns to the table with the drinks. ‘’Champagne? Well, I didn’t know John Egan was drinking champagne.’’ She teased as she took a sip of the beverage. ‘’Well, I didn’t know if a pretty girl like you can handle whiskey’’ he explained. ‘’Trust me Major, you have no idea what I can handle.’’ Bucky was impressed, his girl was flirting with him, and she can handle whiskey! ‘’Really, uh, so what can you handle?’’ ‘’That’s the conversation I usually have after 2 glasses of alcohol’’ she took another sip, while holding eye contact with the men in front of her.

The more the time passed, the more they drank and talked. They flirted openly and even teasing the other. But after the Colonel’s speech, the party really began. The band started to play some dance music and the people were getting on the dance floor. Y/n was still looking after her girls, making sure they were okay, but her gaze was more on Bucky. ‘’Do you want to dance, darling?’’ he asked. She nodded and they made their way to the dance floor. The beat was quick, but not too quick, they danced together the hole song, and the one after, and the one after the previous one. After 4 songs, they needed to sit down, so that’s what they did. ‘’Tired already?’’ Bucky teased. ‘’Try dancing with these!’’ she pointed her heels. Bucky laughed and took a sip of whatever they were having. Buck came to sit with them, Meatball following him. ‘’Where were you Buck’’ Egan asked. ‘’Been talking with some of your nurses, Y/n, uh, Elodie is really sweet’’ Buck said. She tilted her head, surprised by the men that was usually shy. ‘’You flirted with a girl? Who are you and what have you done with my best friend’’ Bucky laughed. Y/n smiled and looked at Bucky, his smile was beautiful. Meatball came next to her, so she petted him. ‘’Hi, you, you’re so adorable, and you can always find me. You won’t bite me, you’re too nice for that!’’ She said, petting the dog. ‘’So now, it’s the last dance of the night, gentlemen it’s time to ask your ladies to dance’’ The signer of the band announced. Bucky looked at Y/n, she smiled. ‘’Hold on’’ she said while untying her shoes. She took them off, leaving her only in her tights that matched her skin tone. The men chuckled before offering his hand for her to take. They went on the dance floor as It’s Been a Long, Long Time from Harry James started playing. Bucky started to dance, but Y/n just came closer to him. They hugged, but it was just for the dance. Bucky hands were resting on her lower back, she putted her arms around his neck. Their face was so close, but she decided to put her head on Bucky’s shoulder. Their bodies were slowly moving to the beat of the music. Y/n could hear Bucky’s heartbeat, it was fast, he was nervous, but so was she. ‘’Your heart’s beating fast’’ she said, loud enough for him to hear. ‘’That’s because you’re dancing with me, darling’’ he replied. She looked up at him, their eye contact was filled with tension. She took a shaky breath before smiling to him. ‘’Want to give me the tour you were talking about’’ she nervously said. He smiled to her while he nodded. ‘’Wait, I need to get my shoes back on’’ she realised she was barefoot. She quickly went to put her shoes back, before they both head out the crowded room.

They were both alone, outside. ‘’So, where’s the nurses office?’’ She playfully asked. Bucky offered her his arm; she took it and they started to walk towards Y/n worked. ‘’You looked beautiful tonight’’ He complimented her. ‘’Thank you, Bucky. ‘’ she blushed. ‘’Can I ask you something?’’ she asked. ‘’Anything’’ he quickly responded. ‘’It’s probably just a rumor, but Daisy said that she heard something about you asking your co-pilot to punch you in the face’’ she laughed nervously. Bucky laughed too, but he was stressing. Would she think he was stupid for doing so? ‘’Uh, I- uh, yeah, I did. I wanted to see you alone after the mission. I figured if I was injured, it would be easier to have you for myself’’ he stopped, realising what he just said. His mind and his heart were racing. Y/n giggled, blushing, she was nervous too, he was John Egan, he had a reputation of being a lady’s men, but he got punched in the face, just to see her. ‘’ Well, that’s a first. You know you could’ve just come to my office; we didn’t have many injured’’ Bucky was relived. ‘’Yeah, well i-i- ‘’ he stammered. ‘’Next time, maybe not in your pretty face’’ she flirted. Bucky blushed. Y/n shivered, it was cold outside, the party had many people, so it was warm, now that they’re outside, it’s cold. Without thinking, Bucky took off his jacket and put it on his girl’s shoulder. ‘’We’re almost there, darling. It’ll be warmer inside’’ he said.

When they entered the nurses building, it was empty, the men that were there were transferred to another base. They were completely alone. ‘’Here we are the medic center’’ Egan announced. She smiled as she looked at his stitches. ‘’How is your face?’’ she asked. ‘’It’s okay, I don’t have any pain’’ he watched at she came closer to him. With the heels she was wearing, she didn’t need to stand on her tippee toes to reach his face. ‘’Can I?’’ she asked his permission. It was the first thing she was thought in medical school, always ask for the patient’s consent. She took it very seriously, especially when there was a sexual tension between the two of them. She was nervous, they both had alcohol in their system, and she had a confidence boost.

Her hands were shaking, but he stood still as she examined his wound. He noticed her lipstick, it’s still there. He couldn’t take how pretty she was; he imagined her lips on him, how her lipstick would mark his body. How gentle she would be with him, was she a virgin? Bucky tried to erase these images from his mind before he got a boner. The way she looked at him, with innocence and lust at the same time. How can she flirt with him that much and look like she never saw a man in her hole life. ‘’Your heart is still racing’’ she said, a hand on his chest. Before he could answer, she took his hand and put it on her chest. He was touching her breast. But when he focused on the feeling under his hand, he felt her heart racing, just like him. ‘’Mine’s racing too’’ she said, while looking at him in the eyes. Her hand was still holding his in place, he tried not to think about his hand on her chest, but it was impossible. ‘’Do I make you nervous, darling?’’ he teased. ‘’I could ask you the same question, Major’’ She was playing with fire, and she knew it. ‘’Fucking hell’’ he muttered under his breath. ‘’Let’s go in my office, I have a fireplace.’’ She said, taking him by the hand that was on her breast. ‘’Why do you have a fireplace in your office?’’ he questioned. ‘’It was there when I arrived, the late chief nurse was, presumably, always cold.’’ He closed the door behind them, as he watched her, getting the fire ready.

It was getting warmer in the office, so she took his jacket off her shoulder. ‘’Do you want something to drink?’’ he was confused, she had a fireplace and drinks? But he nodded and she took out a bottle of whiskey with two glasses. ‘’Whiskey, I’m impressed, darling’’ he smirked. ‘’What can I say, I’m full of surprises’’ oh how he wanted to kiss this attitude out of her, but he loved it. Her shameless teasing and flirting, she was amazing. She poured two glasses and handed one to Bucky. Their fingers brushed together, they made eye contact, but they wouldn’t break it. ‘’Are we playing a staring contest, darling?’’ his tone was challenging. ‘’Maybe’’ she whispered as she brought up her glass. ‘’Cheers, honey’’ she purred, before drinking the liquid. Bucky did the same, when their glass was empty, she took them and broke eye contact. She turned so her back faced him.

He couldn’t take it anymore, so when she turned, he decides to get behind her. His chest was pressing against her back. ‘’ You lose, darling’’ he whispered in her ear. Sending shivers in all her body. She turned her head, their lips were so close to each other, it was intoxicating for both. ‘’What are you going to do, Major?’’ she practically moaned. ‘’Like I said, darling, I don’t know if you can handle it’’ he responded. She turned to face him, but she sat on the desk, opened her legs. The same position they were earlier, but the roles were changed. ‘’I told you, Bucky, you don’t know what I can handle’’ she says, her voice challenging him. With a boost of confidence, thanks to the alcohol, she lifted his chin with her fingers. ‘’Don’t underestimate me, Major’’ she said, dangerously close to his lips. He was about to faint; she became this confident woman, and he loved it. She wasn’t shy anymore, she was teasing him, touching him.

‘’You’re playing with fire, darling’’ he warned, with his deep, husky voice. ‘’But you already know that you like to play with me like that, uh?’’ he affirmed. ‘’What can I say, you’re fun to play with.’’ John Egan was speechless, he was in awe, ready to drop to his knees if she’d ask him. ‘’What do you want, Major?’’ she whispered. They looked at each other, their pupils were dilated, they were both in the same situation; horny. He leaned in, reaching her ear. ‘’What I want, darling, I want to kiss every square inch of your body. I want to take you right now on this desk. I want your lipstick to mark every inch of my skin. Should I continue?’’ he teased. Her face was hot, they weren’t flirting anymore. It was a pure invitation to have sex with him. His hands were on her thigs; his thumb was caressing her skin. He looked at her with desire, what was she gonna say. ‘’Cat got your – ‘’ he was cut off by the mouth of the chief nurse on his. She was kissing him.

He was in shock of what just happened, that he didn’t respond to the kiss. So, when she pulled back, she was nervous, did she do anything wrong? When he realised that she wasn’t kissing him, he looked at her. ‘’Darling, can you please do that again, so I can kiss you back’’ he pleaded, with need in his voice. She nodded and their lips were back together. One of Bucky’s hands moved up to hold her neck, the other one moved down her back. His body moved forward so they could be as close as possible. They stopped kissing to take a breath. The kiss had left them both breathless. ‘’You feel what you do to me Y/n?’’ he almost moaned. One of her hands dropped to where his boner showed. ‘’Is this what I do to you Major? She mewled. He could only nod, his words were stuck in his throat. They kissed again, both fighting for dominance. But their kiss was brutely stooped by a knock at her door. ‘’I’m sorry for the interruption, but Bucky, we have a mission tomorrow, you must sleep’’ Gale Cleven was at the other side of the door, feeling bad that he interrupted his best friend in whatever he was doing in there.

‘’Fuck’’ he moaned, frustrated. She noticed a necklace in Egan’s neck. She took it off him and put it around her neck, the cross at the end of it was directly in her bra. ‘’Come and take it back tomorrow.’’ She whispered. Sure, she wanted to have sex with him, but they were in a war, he had to be well rested to kill the Germans. Bucky smirked and kissed her goodnight. When he left her lips, he wanted more, he was like a starved man. ‘’Goodnight Major’’ ‘’Goodnight darling’’ and he left her office. She couldn’t wait for him to come back tomorrow.

Part 4⬇️

[kentosbabes]

Cooking date night with Nanami

Nanami who scrolls through possible recipes on his phone for hours until he finds the perfect one for your dinner date night. When he does he's sending it straight to you 'What about spaghetti love?' and with a 'sounds perfect' from you, he's out at the shops buying all the ingredients and heading home.

Nanami who rushes home and cant wait to unwind with you after a long day. your already getting started on the meatballs with ingredients you already had when he's walking in with a shopping bag.

Nanami who also brought some of your favourite snacks and expensive wine for your date night. 'Kento that's so sweet of you' you say giving in a quick kiss before going back to making the meatballs. He would hate to show you how much he's blushing 'Uh um I'm going to go get change and I'll come back and help with the sauce.' he mumbles rushing off to your bedroom.

Nanami who gets distracted while looking at how you move your hips along with the song playing as you take the lid off the chopped tomatoes. Of course that means he forgets he's pouring chilly flakes into the source 'Kento that's way too much!' You say taking the chilly flakes away from him looking at practically half the bottle emptied out in the sauce.

Nanami who hugs you from behind as you try and fix the sauce. He sways against you to the music trying to relax your form your stressed state by peppering you with kisses.

Nanami who sets the table with sophisticated cutlery and bowls as you bring over the large bowl of spaghetti and meatballs and a plate with garlic bread. He makes sure to pull out your chair for you as you sit down and pours you a glass of wine.

Nanami who cant stop complimenting your cooking skills. 'I love when you cook, it tastes so much better then when I do it', 'your so perfect' as he twirls his pasta before eating it.

Nanami who loves how sexy you look in your silk pajamas with your hair in a bun and your glasses on as you sip on your wine. His leg finding its way in between yours as he tries to smoothly get his knee to reach your core.

Nanami who smirks as you roll your eyes knowing how this ends up. So you get up and take the dishes away in order to escape his antics but it only makes it easier for him. Pulling you into his lap when you come back and fingering you 'I can't wait to make you my little house wife', 'your so good to me doll'.

Nanami who tells you to sit down while he finishes up the cleaning as you talk to him about your day. 'you just sit there and look pretty for me yeah, I've got this.'

Nanami who can't stop thinking about marrying you and coming home to the smell of you cooking as you dance around the kitchen. He makes sure to spoil you for the rest of the evening after the chilly insident.

Nanami who enjoys having his desert spread out on his bed as he licks and sucks up and down your folds watching as your squirm underneath him.

Nanami who goes to sleep with you in his arms thinking about having a quiet and simple domestic life with you.

Masterlist

[asteroshearts]

Costco

Dad!Levi x Mom!Reader

Domestic AU, Modern AU, pure fluff, unnamed young son

Oh, the skip in your step couldn't be contained as you sauntered down to your car, basked in the sun, and dancing in the rays.

You had gotten everything that you needed (and wanted) today at one of your favorite places in the world: Costco Warehouse.

The groceries for the week? Obtained. The random sherpa throw pillow? One and done. Levi's wine, your spontaneous cheeses, tins of tea. You and your son gorged on every sample available until your bellies were full enough for your husband to nearly roll you back to the car.

The wheels of the shopping cart gently rolled to a stop, careful of the precious package you had in there, as Levi wordlessly met eyes with you. Without another sound, you nodded and ducked in the car, swiftly making sure the baby seat was ready. The second you broke away from your two boys, your son perked up immediately from his sleepy state, swiveling his head back and forth and gurgling slightly in his grogginess. Sensing your son's impending panic from not being about to sight you from his seat in the shopping cart, Levi absentmindedly began to rub his knuckles up and down his baby's stomach to soothe him.

"Aw, come here, baby," you cooed, taking your sleepy baby from out of the cart while your husband loaded the trunk. Tiny hands wound against your neck immediately and you tugged your son closer. "That was some yummy food, huh? Are you feeling the food coma yet?" Pressing his face against your neck, you felt his single nod.

Silent, but a listener, just like his father.

"Yea?" You placed him down gently as you began to buckle him in. "I think the meatballs were my favorite." Click. Zip. Pull. "If they're on sale next week maybe we can ask your papa to make them with spaghetti." Tugging on his seat belt straps once more to make sure he was secure, you began to pull away to help Levi bring in your purchases, only to be stopped by a single tiny hand pulling on your sleeve.

"Huh?" Eyes matching his blinked widely.

"Mama..." he started out slowly. His wide eyes twinkled with stars. "The chickie is hot, can I eat?" He emphasized his words with a couple more tugs to your sleeve, pointing a single finger at his mouth as he went ahhh silently.

"Aw, yea, that's what you were most excited about!" You beamed and wiggled your fingers at him, smiling widely. Of course: the famous Costco rotisserie chicken.

You had such a patient and quiet child, such a mama's boy, Levi remarked with a playful roll of his eyes. Your son was never difficult to handle and would always follow you around like a little duckling. Normally, he'd just tag along with you as you went down the aisles of Costco, a single hand on your skirt as he hovered around your legs.

But today was different. Today he had taken a hold of your hand without a single word and he was the one leading you. He dragged you to the back of the store where the rotisserie was, much to Levi’s amusement as he pulled the cart along behind you. Your son was a man on a mission, eyes gleaming with determination. He tugged on your skirt twice and pointed one tiny pudgy finger at the row of chicken trays in front of you.

You son even knew the tricks: the ins and outs. When you cooed and reached out to grab a tray, your son stopped you, shaking his head before pointing at all of the other people waiting around you. Your son even knew to wait for the next round of fresh chicken to be placed out.

You and Levi sure had a field day giggling at that, watching your son's back as he looked in awe at the employee behind the counter, muttering about how well he was doing with his first real grocery run.

That little runt was growing up, Levi thought wistfully. His fingers twisted around yours. The beautiful son you two created was really becoming a big boy.

But now, despite how cute your son was, despite his cherubic cheeks, and his open lips, and the twinkle in his eyes, you knew one thing: there was no way in hell Levi was going to let a toddler eat in his new car.

After all, even back in your college days, when Levi's car was a decade old Renault that he picked up for less than 1K, your then-boyfriend would raise hell at the mere mention of eating inside his beat-up trash heap. Even when you two picked up a McDonald's at 3AM, one glare made you think twice about eating a single fry before you left the car.

Levi, your high maintenance husband, made you wince sadly at the thought of saying no to your son as he stared expectantly at you.

"Do you mean you want to eat it when you get back home?"

A shake of his head. "Now, Mama." Oh, this was going to be difficult, wasn't it?

"Aw, I'm sorry, baby, but I don't know if Papa would — "

"That's fine."

What?

You head snapped to the other side of the car, jaw dropping as Levi opened up the adjacent door. You stared in a stunned stupor. What??

"Just a small piece," Levi told your son. "Then you can have more when we get home, hm?"

You were speechless, even as your baby fluttered his legs under the confines of the baby seat and nodded happily as a large smile stretched his chubby cheeks.

The sound of the chicken container being opened broke you out of your reverie, filling the car with the smell of rotisserie and surrounding your son's view with the beautifully brown chicken skin. Even now you couldn't say a word as Levi wiped his hands down with a baby wipe, drying his hands before easily ripping out a strip of chicken and wrapping it in a napkin.

"Careful, okay? It's hot."

Nodding furiously, your son reached out excitedly and quickly took a bite as Levi fed him. Pudgy cheeks let out humorous puffs of air to "cool down" his chicken. Although his mouth was too full to let out gasps of awe and hums of deliciousness, one look at his swinging tubby legs underneath his onesie told you just how over the moon he was.

Snapping the container shut, Levi wiped his hands again before making his way to the driver seat, all as your dropped jaw and speechless expression followed every step he made.

"What?" your husband asked, glancing at your aghast expression from the corner of his eye. Putting the car in reverse, he began the ride back home.

"You're such a — You're such a — !"

A pushover.

A softie.

A great dad.

Playfully huffing, you pouted and puffed out your cheeks, turning in the passenger seat and crossing your arms.

"You know I remember when I was twenty-one, I said I was going to have a fry and before I could even put it in my mouth you pulled over so fast," you recalled, fake-glaring at your husband, watching his side profile as he focused on the road, observing the sleeves of his jacket fall down to expose the dainty bone and curve of his wrist. "You took me outside and said we're going to be eating on the curb if I was going to be impatient."

"And now look at you — you're letting a toddler have rotisserie chicken in the backseat. You love your son more than me, the mother of your child?" You finished by fluttering your eyelashes. Of course this was all jokes, you both knew Levi's heart was more than big enough for his son and the love of his life, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

Scoffing, he only flashed his grey eyes at your briefly before turning at the curb. "Don't be ridiculous. We know any toddler with my genes would be leaps and bounds cleaner than you."

Gasping playfully at the smirk he pulled, eyes twinkling with mirth, you batted playfully at his thigh.

"So — " Bat. " Freaking — " Bat. "Rude — !" Bat.

"Brat, that hurts." Yeah, right.

Barely containing his soft chuckles, you attempted to dodge away from his right hand as it tried to grab yours, quickly waving his attempts away before Levi's hand shot forward. His fingers wrapped around yours, trapping your arm before he linked his fingers with your own. When you tried to pull away, he let you go, but only replaced the space on his palm with your thigh pressed against the white seats. You waited for the heat to crawl up your face as he gently rubbed your thigh and soothingly rubbed it up and down.

"Baby, can you believe this?" you cried dramatically, turning in your seat to try and face your son. "Your papa is so mean to me!"

Finishing with the final bite of his chicken, your son blinked owlishly at you, completely deaf to the conversation his parents were having.

Holding out the empty napkin in both hands, your son gave a dopey smile to the back of Levi's seat. "Papa, I'm done!"

Exhaling softly, the tiniest of smiles appeared at the corner of his lip as he turned into your driveway. "Good job," he whispered, just as subtly. You took the soiled napkin from your son's hands and wiped his fingers clean before tossing the paper in the bin.

"More?" Your son's lashes were going to be long like Levi's and now they fluttered as he blinked. Then, remembering his manners, he beamed so hard that the fat of his cheeks nearly eclipsed his eyes. "Please, Papa!"

"Sure," Levi declared softly. Unbuckling his seatbelt, your husband went around the car to grab his son from out of his baby seat. "Whatever you want."

[habit-poxly]

always forever

Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!reader

description: you and Simon spend the evening together in a rented cabin, taking a hard earned vacation while he’s on leave. 

domestic fluff, unedited

word count: 1.6k

A bright display of pinks and oranges broke through the thin kitchen curtains, the setting sun nearly halfway gone behind the reaching tips of the evergreens in the distance. Fireflies danced in the wild grass outside, the smell of campfire wafted in the air, the mountains in the distance kissed the darkening sky, and the old cabin creaked in the wind.

The drive out to the mountains had been tedious: unmarked roads, unhelpful locals, and no working GPS certainly hadn’t created a vacation environment. Nevertheless, you two had arrived- albeit 2 hours behind schedule- and it had been decided to be worth it immediately. A swimming lake sat only a 5-minute walk from the lot the small cabin was sat on, although you don’t see you and Simon swimming at the public dock area; walking together until you find a tucked away beach would be much more preferable to him anyways.

“ ‘right lovie, what do you need me doing?” Simon slips his hand around the curve of your waist, fingers gently rubbing back and forth, waiting to be helpful. You had been preparing dinner for the past half an hour, now peeling the potatoes you had just washed. Simon had already unloaded the car and brought the bags to the locations they were supposed to be, he had lit the firepit outside and changed the sheets on the bed- frankly you were running out of things to get him to do.

“Wanna roll up the meatballs, baby?” You hum, leaning up and pecking Simon on the jaw as he leans over you to watch want you’re doing. His other hand moves to rest on the other side of your waist; he squeezes and nods, his hands staying firmly on your hips. Peering at his exposed lips you see a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, you knew how much he adored small moments like this- if he could he would hang them up as pictures in your home, each one held so close to his heart.

After washing his hands he begins rolling the spiced ground beef in his palms, enjoying the fading sunset shoulder-to-shoulder with you. So many times on deployment you had been why he fought so hard to come home- as cheesy as it was, it was you and him forever. Two people forever entangled until the end. That's how he saw it at least. 

“Do you want to go on a hike or to the lake tomorrow? The weather is supposed to be perfect” Your gentle voice had always sent shivers down his spine- reducing him to a puddle in your palm at a whim.

Simon let out a hum, attention still focused on not making the meatballs horribly misshapen.

“You wanted to use that picnic set you bought, yeah? Let’s take a walk down to the lake tonight and find a spot for the morning.” He glanced up at you, the smile gracing your face making you glow in the sunlight- the way it fluttered off your eyelashes making his heart skip a beat at the sight of you.

“Sounds romantic, had a whole little date planned in your head, hm?” You teased, pink flushing your face. He chuckles, bending down to place a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Got tons of ‘em, love” He adored the person he became in your presence: calm, caring, romantic, free of heavy burden for the time. You adored him for it, too. The way his hands- calloused and rough from a lifetime of hard work- would run down your body like you were the most valuable thing in the world, the way he would breathe life into you and build you high. 

“How are none of them the same fucking size?!” Simon places the last meatball down, none of them lumpy yet most of them are either a tad bit too large or a tad bit too small.

“I’m hopeless at cooking.” He huffs, turning on the sink to wash his hands again. Choking back a giggle, you poke your finger lightly into his side. “Don’t worry, darling. You’ve done a wonderful job, look!” You point at the much smaller group, “I prefer Swedish meatballs anyways”

A wide grin plants itself on his face as he shakes his head at you.  The rest of dinner hadn’t taken much longer to make. It was very good, as Simon always finds your cooking. Tonight it had been homemade meatballs, mashed potatoes, and gravy- he suspected you had planned every meal this week around his favourites. He adored the way you tended to him like that: filling his glass, sneaking more food into his plate, encouraging him to go for seconds, storing away leftovers so they’re easy for him to pop in the microwave later- it all. As a child, he had grown a fear of appearing like he was overeating, something that would have warranted punishment in his earlier years, yet the way you would take care of him made all that melt away.

After cleaning up you two moved to sit by the firepit outside wrapped in a thick quilt. You had your own camping chair, intact it sat right beside Simon’s- something which he set up. But the second you got close enough he had slithered his arm around your waist and pulled you into the warmth of his lap. This was one of, by far, his favourite things to do with you. He had a cigar he had been gifted by Price in his hand, taking large puffs in between pauses in your stories or his jokes. His hand ran soothingly up and down your thigh under the blanket, his lips kissing up your neck and whispering breathy sighs into your ear.

“ it’s a beautiful property, we should rent this cabin again next summer” You muse eyes dancing over the darkened tree line, Simon hums into the soft flesh of your shoulder.

“Inside could use an update.” He adds, “Not sure if we’ll be having sex on the bed this week, love. ‘Afraid the old thing will fall apart.” Simon grins as you elbow him in the stomach, scoffing with a smile at the comment.

“It’s an old cabin, I think the broken furniture gives it character.” You lean your weight back, rolling your head so it rests on his shoulder. Your eyes dance over the strong features of his face- deep bags still chiselled into his under eyes from his latest deployment.

“I know what you mean though. The paint colour choices are ridiculous- who paints a bathroom that horrible orange? It’s wonderful architecture- that kitchen would look beautiful with the blue that’s in our bedroom at home.” Simon had been nodding along to you as you spoke, interior design was something he had struggled with his whole life- his apartment bare before you moved in.

 Regardless of how many times he had told you that you still always made him feel included when it came to decorating. It was both of your homes, not just the house he pays for and you decorate as so many other men like him had. “It’s too small, we’d need more room if we were going to buy a place like this. You want a Green House, yeah?” Simon's head turns back to look at the outside of the cabin- it was one bed one bath, perfect for the two of you for the moment but his mind was set on the future. His arms moved to wrap around your waist- holding you tight to him.

“Yeah-“ you nod “ I’d want something with a cute wrap-around porch too. We’d have to have room for your office- if we got a house with a nice big basement we could get that pool table you want. Put a bar down there too so you and the boys can watch football.”

He hums happily, nodding along with you. “Next time I’m on leave I’ll take some more time off, we’ll go look at some houses and find something we like- ‘wouldn’t worry about renovations, I could have all that done.”

He understood the commitment that would be, a commitment he never felt the want to take on until he met you. Things like settling down, getting married and starting a family never seemed on the table for him- until you waddled into his life and cracked his hard exterior. He wanted it more than anything now- to come home to a bustling young family in a beautiful home.

“Simon- really?” You mutter, the surprise lacing your voice and causing nervousness to bubble in his stomach. For a brief moment, he feared he had messed it all up- that you would pull away from him for such a recommendation and inform him you would never dream of spending your life with him. But, he nods anyway; anxiety clear as day spread out across his face.

Shifting in his lap you move to straddle him, arms snaking around his neck as his hands settle on your hips- pulling you tighter against him.

As if on pure instinct his lips move to meet yours- the kiss being instantly reciprocated with desperate noises and your fingers tangling through his messy blond hair. He had long slipped his tongue into your mouth, as if he was consuming you- or trying to. Simon was a starved man, starved his whole life until you came with the offer of endless fullness; how could he ever possibly deny you?

His strong hands pull your hips into his, making your legs shake with under the warmth of the blanket. Pulling away leaves a small string of saliva between the two of you- which a quick peck from Simon fixes.

“Are you sure?” You whisper lips still mere inches from his own. He has never expressed any desire for commitment other than the relationship you had now. You were his, his partner, you had been for quite some time, yet there had been no mention of anything similar to this.

“I’m sure, darling.“ he kisses you again, this time deep and slow, “ I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

[joelswritingmistress]

Last Halloween: Chapter 5

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Warning: Angst

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

You sat across from Joel with a hot fudge sundae in front of you on a picnic table out in front of the old Dairy Mart.

"What time do you get off work tonight?" He asked.

"Eight o'clock," you explained. "Is that too late for dinner?"

Joel shook his head. "Not at all."

"You gunna come by for your coffee?" You asked him with a little smile. He huffed a laugh.

"I'm filling in for a short shift from one to five at the garage."

"And then you get to make me an extravagant, Gordon Ramsay-worthy dinner," you teased.

Joel laughed again. "You're setting the bar pretty high." He folded his hands together and looked across the table with a lingering smirk.

You slid a hand on top of his. "What are you thinking of making?"

"Hmm.." he squeezed your fingers. "What do you want?"

"Well, it's going to be a chilly night. I feel like spaghetti and meatballs would be a nice, hot meal."

"I don't think I can screw up spaghetti." Joel let his thumb dance in circles over the back of your hand. "You.." he shook his head and looked down with another barely-there smile. It was contagious.

"What?"

"You just.." he shook his head again, "This is all still just surprising to me. I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound like a broken record or anything, or weird about it."

"You don't sound weird." You waited until he looked back up to meet your eyes. "I honestly didn't think we'd end up here.. like this." You placed your other hand over the top of his. "But I really like being with you, Joel. A lot."

"I do, too." His eyes never left yours. Everything about Joel felt so intense. You were beginning to crave it. "When I'm with you, here like this, I'm not afraid of these people." He motioned to the random townspeople that were scattered about the place in two's and three's.

That might've been the greatest compliment you had ever received. You suddenly wished you didn't have to go to work; that you didn't have to part from him. Joel had set your heart and soul ablaze in the best of ways.

"Hey, you." A male voice interrupted the moment and you looked over your shoulder. Your ex, Officer Steven Hunter, stood there with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Great. It's like the universe has to play cruel jokes on me, you thought.

"Hi, Steve." You edged a few inches away from where he stood close by.

"You, uh, whatcha doing on Halloween night? I mean I'm off that night and I was thinking-"

"We aren't together Steve."

"I know, but-"

"I'm with someone." You looked to Joel, holding his hand a little firmer.

Steve glanced over at him and then back to you as if he wasn't there. "I just thought-"

"I'm good." You said more firmly. "I'm with Joel."

When Steve went in for another try, Joel intervened. "She said she's good."

Steve stared at Joel and then looked over his shoulder at a few other cops who were still in line at the outdoor window. He looked back to Joel with a crooked smile.

"Joel Miller." Steve then returned his attention to you. "You father would be so proud," he said in a purposely demeaning manner.

You went to stand up but Joel beat you to it.

"We have a problem?" Steve asked him, putting his hands on his hips. "Hmm?"

"Joel, it's not worth it," you said, trying to deescalate the situation. "You owe me spaghetti remember?"

For whatever reason it seemed to alleviate some of the anger from his eyes. He took a deep breath, gave Steve a hard stare before glancing more softly at you and sitting back down.

Steve smirked victoriously and looked one more time at you. "You go to boogeyman when you can't sleep these days, huh?" He motioned to Joel once more, trying to get a rise out of one of you.

"You can leave now," you said, not even giving him the satisfaction of looking in his direction. Rather, you dug out a spoonful of ice cream from your sundae and extended your arm across the table, feeding Joel a bite. It was enough to send Steve on an exasperated walk in the opposite direction.

"Let her go be with that psychopath," you heard one of the other guys say as he returned to his buddies.

"He was a guy I dated like six months ago." You began to shake your head as you attempted to explain but Joel simply mirrored your gesture and extended a bite of his ice cream across the table.

"We all have a past," he said, "And you've been very accepting of mine, so I'm not about to judge." When he flashed a small smile you knew that despite the awkward, rude encounter, you guys were still good.

"Sorry."

Joel shook his head and entwined his fingers with your on top of the table again. "Nothing to be sorry for."

You swung your legs around the side of the picnic table and rounded it to give him a firm kiss on the lips. You hadn't quite gotten your fill before and the fleeting smooch only continued to make you want more when you sat back down across from him.

Joel couldn't keep a smile from his face now. It made you smile, too.

"What time do you think you'll be over tonight?" He asked, scraping the inside of the cylindric container with his spoon.

It suddenly dawned on you that you didn't know his address.

"Well, how far are you from the coffee shop?" You asked.

"Five minutes or so."

"I guess I'll be there at 8:05 then."

Your answer made his eyes lift to meet yours and he smirked again as he scooped out another bite.

"Alright." Joel pulled out his phone. "I'll send you the address. Go slow or you'll miss the driveway. My house is a little bit back off the road."

"Okay." You grinned, eager to spend some time privately with him away from the rest of the world. As you waited for Joel's text message you were also secretly texting Jessie.

I'm going over his house tonight at 8, you wrote, should I pack a bag?? Help! 😬

Immediately her response came back: YES!!!! Just don't get pregnant!

Your laugh out loud as you covered your mouth made Joel cock his head to the side as his eyes squinted at you. He wore a smile but in his eyes you saw he was intrigued as to what you were giggling at.

"Jess just sent me something funny," you admitted, sparing the details.

He continued to grin. "I just sent it to you."

"Great." The two of you finished off the last few bites of ice cream and then made your way to Joel's motorcycle, passing by a window that showcased Steve and his cop friends.

They all stared at you as you and Joel hopped on the bike. Despite their group stare, you had never felt more confident in your life.

Your arms wrapped around Joel and he placed one of his hands over yours just below his chest. Your chin rested on his shoulder and he eased the bike back out of the spot.

You reluctantly made eye contact with Steve for a brief second, though you couldn't contain a wide smile as Joel raced you off back to your house.

When you got there you couldn't hold back. You had only dipped your feet into all the lines you were fully prepared to cross with Joel Miller. For the first time you didn't care who was home, who could see you or anything in between.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss that left your head swirling and your body longing for more of him. It was smoldering and only ended when Joel chuckled and ducked his head back an inch.

"Save it for tonight," he breathed against you.

Oh, what a promise that was.

"Okay." You playfully let your teeth graze his bottom lip.

Joel ran a hand through your hair and kissed you again. "I'll call you later."

"Okay." Your arms lingered around his shoulders despite knowing you had to let him go - at least for the time being.

"8:05," he said.

You spoke quietly against his lips. "I won't be late."

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 6

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum

[precious-little-scoundrel]

What do you have in store for Ida and Rosie’s story? Because they are the only pairing who aren’t at the POW camp.

Aha!! This is gonna be a long answer, hence why I let your ask molder away as I worked on a reply, thanks for your patience.

I can’t wait to weave this whole thing, and it’s honestly the only postwar story I’m at all sure about in this universe so far. Let’s just say it’s a hella slow burn. Even after getting married. Because they do marry. Rather soon. But they are a bit of a buddy cop duo. Romantic love -at least for Ida- comes later.

I think it’s safe to assume that dear Ida was present when Rosie first introduced himself to the Bucks, told his underwear story and generally made a magnificent entry. Now, one must consider two things with this:

1. Rosie’s regret over what the hell he was thinking telling that story would be compounded by telling it in front of a female officer

2. Ida might have always been a stiff spined stickler before her trauma and the Stalag, but she did have a sense of humor. I like to think she found him funny, plus, with the Bucks beginning to fray a little in their own morale, flagging in offering encouragement to the newbies, I think Ida would be the sort to fill that role, best she can. Surprisingly, Rosenthal, Nash, Pappy, they’re not the sorta men to resent a woman giving them a pep m-up chat.

Now, keep in mind it’s three missions later and she’s been downed so there was not really a connection made there. Although I love to think that some night in the Stalag when everyone is bored and playing ask games with each other, one of the questions is:

“Who was the last person ya danced with?”

And Bucky gets to tell about Paulina and Gale gets chafed about choosing Meatball over Maureen and Brady bemoans having been so stuck on the bandstand playing sax instead of taking his chances and then when it’s Ida’s turn she’s just: “it was one of the new ones, the ‘egg frying on the instrument panel,’ guy.”

This is met with a chorus of “Rosenthal???”

“Told me to call him Rosie.” Ida shrugs. “He had some fun moves.”

Anyways. That’s a far off thing by April of ‘45.

SPOILERS ABOUT ESCAPE:

….

when Ida get away with Gale and makes it back first of anyone to England? Best believe she is beyond distracted with worry for her girls. Who’s there to meet her and welcome her and Cleven to Thorpe? Crosby of course -and Rosie. Malnourished, ptsd riddled and burdened with responsibility for her girls, Ida isn’t exactly the sparkly female Colonel that Rosenthal remembers meeting and dancing with.

In fact, that first initial interaction goes a bit sourly. She needs a nap, he awkwardly needs a deposition on her treatment. It’s a little rough, ok?

But the longer she is back at Thorpe, reunited with her few girls still there who were never downed, she learns how well their new Lt. Colonel -Rosenthal- has looked after them, fought to resend the grounding orders after Ida went down, generally been a good bean.

Also, due to being her superior now and having been given the legal burden of collecting information and evidence on the girls treatment by the Germans, Rosenthal and Ida start spending time, a lotta time, together.

There’s Jeep chauffeuring, Coffee Breaks and Mercy Runs where he goads her into buzzing the tower for the first time in her life -“of course I haven’t done it before, Rosenthal. One of you cats do it and it’s cute, I do it and I’m fired. No, I don’t mean discharged, I mean plainly fired.”

And then there’s the depositions, eventually full of her having to dictate shit that she’s never vocalized since it happened to her. Somehow, Rosie makes the whole thing easier than she ever expected. Not to say it’s easy. Although if you asked his female secretary, she’d say the one more visibly affected by it was the male lawyer, not the half catatonic victim spewing a rote litany of horror.

One time, his grip on his pencil gets so tight that it snaps. Ida replaces it. His quiet rage for her is about the best closure she’s felt so far. And that thread of such shared knowledge between them and them alone, even if it was in professional context? -That’s Intimacy. Far more than kisses or rings.

A righteous vengeance duo? Yes please, they’re a force to be reckoned with as the war winds down.

Before long Ida is asking Croz, “Was Rosenthal always that pretty?”

Harry is cackling over it, “Yeah.” He goads her, “But he is more confident now.”

“Confidence.” Ida repeats, trying to convince herself, “Yeah, that would be it.”

The thing of it is, Ida was unsure or marriage before her brutal treatment in captivity. Now? And after her military experience? She’s very sure she could never be a wife. Not even of a smart and secure man like Robert Rosenthal. Men just expect certain things and dynamics from their wives and Ida has never been sure she had that in her. Now she’s positive. And she’s too proud to marry only to then “turn a blind eye” as he finds what she lacks in women elsewhere.

Rosie? His argument is that what they’ve already built these last months, it’s what he wants. Marrying her is to keep that. If that’s all they ever have that’s enough, he couldn’t stand to lose it.

A chaste honeymoon on the way to Nuremberg to go fuck up a bunch of Nazis for the second time in their young lives? You betcha.

[cetaitlaverite]

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

masterlist is linked here in case you missed it and you're interested, the bonus chapter of the first night freddie and rosie spent together in his plane is linked here <3

26. Bärchen

With a hand shielding her eyes, as though she could somehow protect herself from the words Freddie was about to throw at her, Jem let out an almighty huff. “Fred, don’t tell me what I think you’re going to tell me.”

Freddie had her hands clasped behind her back, swinging her hips left and right coquettishly with a pleased little smile on her lips. “Depends on what you think I’m going to tell you.”

“Good or bad news?” Millie asked suspiciously, sitting in the grass around the back of the wireless operators’ nissen hut. Her head was tipped back to rest against the wall behind her, her eyes fixed on Freddie warily. The morning sunshine made the strawberry blonde of her hair appear strikingly red.

Freddie smiled innocently. “Good news!” she chirped. “Very good, I think. And if you love me you’ll be happy.”

“You and Rosie are back together,” Jem said blankly, as though tired of the preamble.

Now it was Freddie’s turn to huff. “Jem, that was my news and I was supposed to announce it!”

Millie snorted. “Fred, you are so predictable it’s unreal. The fact you thought we didn’t anticipate you and Rosie returning from your little holiday thick as thieves is laughable.”

Freddie wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to feel offended. “Well, I didn’t know.”

Jem scoffed.

“Okay, well, maybe I thought it might be nice if all of my anger finally faded away if we went home again,” Freddie amended. “But I didn’t anticipate telling him I love him.”

“What?” Jem’s eyes shot open, the hand shielding them falling instantly to her side.

Freddie smiled smugly. “Ha! Didn’t anticipate that one, did you?”

“You told Rosie you love him?” Millie asked, sitting up straight in the grass. Even Meatball, lying beside her, tilted his head, sensing a change in the tone of conversation.

Freddie’s smile turned sheepish. “It kind of slipped out. Daniel’s mother caught us dancing outside together when we came back from the jazz club.” Freddie launched into a hasty retelling of the argument which had ensued and how her confession of love to Rosie had fit into it. By the time she was finished, Millie and Jem looked decidedly less wary of the entire situation.

“So everything’s back the way it was before?” Jem asked after a beat in which the story settled on the air between them. “You’re just pretending the break up never happened?”

“I apologised for what I said, if that’s what you mean,” Freddie answered her steadily. “Because I was spiteful and unkind. But I don’t see any real reason to drag out the argument any further. I love him and he loves me and that is so special, after everything which happened with Daniel. It’s important. When you first met me did you ever think I’d get to this place ever again? Even this time last year the idea would have been preposterous. I would have laughed in your face if you’d told me I’d fall in love again.”

With a soft sigh, Millie pushed herself to her feet. She approached Freddie and took hold of both of her hands, considering her for a moment, before grinning and using her hold on Freddie’s hands to pull her into a hug. “I’m proud of you, Fred,” she said into her shoulder. “I know it’s not always easy for you but you’re always trying so hard and I’m proud of you.”

Freddie smiled into Millie’s shoulder. “I don’t have to try so hard anymore, really. Not with Rosie. Sometimes I have to be brave but he makes everything feel so safe and so easy. I find it impossible to be angry with him for long.”

When Millie pulled away from their hug Jem was right there and waiting for one of her own. “If he goes down I’ll still fucking kill him,” she warned, wrapping her arms tight around Freddie.

Freddie laughed.

“But I’m proud of you too, Fred,” Jem went on. “You know I only ever want you to be happy, don’t you?” Momentarily, Jem pulled away from the hug and rested both of her hands on Freddie’s shoulders. Her gaze was serious. “When I’m suspicious of Rosie or I complain about him it’s only because I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt, you know that, don’t you? I think he’s really good for you, and I don’t want you to think I’m being unsupportive.”

Freddie smiled and hugged her tight. “I know, Jemmy,” she whispered. “You’re looking out for me. I wouldn’t ever want you to be any other way.”

But while Freddie and Rosie were formally back together, back on base they saw each other almost as little as they had before spending the weekend in Oxford. Work had picked up prominently; Rosie was flying again and he was flying often, and Freddie knew without having to be told that her workload was increasing day after day in preparation for a big invasion of Europe.

She looked over countless flight plans for Croz, circling the locations where Luftwaffe resistance was likely to be the most oppressive in red ink, and combed back through every transcript she could get her hands on of previous manipulation attempts as part of Operation Corona. As time wore on she started to receive some specifics. The invasion was going through France, so she should prepare specifically to target France-based Luftwaffe efforts. Incidentally, it did matter to her planning where they should expect the planes to be coming from.

Later and later into the night she remained in her office. No one batted an eye because she wasn’t the only one. Croz was likely single-handedly causing a coffee shortage in the south east of England - Freddie wasn’t sure he had slept since March - and the bags under Jack’s eyes were so dark against his pale skin they almost looked like bruises.

Freddie’s office was a mess. There were piles of paper everywhere, some screwed up in balls where she’d become frustrated with her own plans and tried to toss them into the bin and missed. Her shoes were strewn halfway across the floor along with a couple of Meatball’s toys from Christmas. Her jacket was on the leather sofa - Meatball was currently using it as a pillow - and her tie was hanging off the back of her chair. The chaos was organised, at least to Freddie, but it was still chaos, and chaos it would remain until the invasion had come and gone.

Today, Freddie had skipped lunch. If she wanted to get to bed at a reasonable hour for once she simply couldn’t afford the luxury of leaving her office. She worked relentlessly, until her eyes burned and her throat ached for water, until the typewritten words on the pages in front of her started to blur together. She rubbed at them harshly until she could see straight again.

She wasn’t sure when Rosie had arrived. She hadn’t heard him come in. He called her name in a tone which suggested he’d been calling it for a while and when she looked up he was frowning, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall opposite her. “You weren’t at dinner.”

Freddie nodded. “No time,” she said, turning back to her work.

“You weren’t at lunch, either.”

Freddie shrugged. She didn’t look up.

“Fred, the invasion ain’t tomorrow,” Rosie said.

“It might as well be,” Freddie replied, her focus largely on the pages in front of her. “I need to make sure we’re prepared. If working overtime for a little while helps to save lives then what does it matter in the grand scheme?”

Rosie sighed. “You won’t do your best work if you’re exhausted.”

Freddie shook her head, her eyes quickly scanning the words on the paper before her. “It’s muscle memory by now. My German’s native, I don’t have to think about it, and I know these missions. I just need to be sure -”

“You need to rest, Fred,” Rosie cut her off.

Freddie shook her head again. “I just need to get these done.”

She almost forgot he was standing there, watching her closely, as she fell back into the routine of her work. She marked out places where communication could be stronger, highlighted instances where orders had been evaded, distrusted, or confusing. All of this needed to be tightened. There needed to be no doubt on the day of the invasion that the fake orders they were giving the German fighter pilots were real.

The words she was reading became loud in her head. Her temples started to throb, thudding with the rhythm of them. Her eyes were blurring again. She squeezed them tightly shut a few times until her vision straightened, then went straight back to her work.

“Fred,” Rosie said with a sigh as she reached for a new set of papers, “the world won’t end if you take one night off to go on a date with your boyfriend.”

Freddie glanced up. This was the first she was hearing of a date. She rested both of her elbows on the desk and put her chin in her hands. “My job is important. I want to make sure we win -”

“Brilliant as you are, Fred - and you are brilliant - you aren’t gonna win us the war single-handedly, sweetheart. Especially not like this.” Rosie’s voice was soft and so were his eyes when she met them. He was always so gentle and patient. 

For seemingly no reason at all, Freddie’s bottom lip started to wobble.

Rosie was crouching beside her desk chair in an instant, turning it to face him.

“I’m just tired,” Freddie batted away his concern as she sniffled and pushed back her tears. “And I want to go on a date with you but I’ll feel so guilty if I don’t get my work done.”

“Just a short date,” Rosie reasoned, resting both of his elbows on her knees. His eyes were kind. “It’s warm today. I brought you some dinner and I thought we could have a picnic for dessert.”

Freddie smiled, reaching out and pushing back some of his hair. “Did you get chocolate?” she asked quietly.

He smiled wide, chuckling a bit under his breath. “I got so much chocolate,” he assured her. “The kitchen’ll probably put up warning posters once they see how much is missing.”

Freddie laughed. “My most favourite little thief,” she said fondly, still running her fingers through his hair, attempting to loosen the gel and free his curls. “Aren’t lawyers supposed to be loyal to the law at all costs?”

Rosie scoffed, grinning. “No. Lawyers just know how not to get caught.”

Laughing, Freddie leaned down to kiss his forehead. She let her lips linger there for a moment before sighing and withdrawing. “I can’t be gone for more than an hour,” she told him, keeping her eyes on him and the way his eyes lit up even as she began to organise the papers strewn across her desk into files.

“I’ll have you home before curfew, Fred, don’t you worry about that.”

Freddie laughed, rolling her eyes indulgently. “You’re so cheesy sometimes, Rosie.”

“I’m just in love,” Rosie dismissed her. “And who can blame me?”

Rosie had his military issue duffle bag waiting outside her office door - evidence Freddie hadn’t needed that he hadn’t been prepared to take no for an answer - and he picked it up to take with them as he led Freddie and Meatball to the airfield. 

It was deserted aside from some of the mechanics working on the planes. The ground crews paid Freddie and Rosie no mind - aside from Ken Lemmons, who called out his greetings. When Meatball ran over to greet his former babysitter, Ken promptly smothered him in attention, grinning as Meatball ran around his ankles and barked.

Rosie laid out an old blanket for him and Freddie to sit on and then set out his wares. Along with everything he’d taken from dinner for Freddie, he’d also managed to scavenge multiple chocolate bars and some strawberries. Freddie smiled as she watched him try to lay it out nicely for her.

Meatball, worn out from demanding Ken’s attention, made his way back over to them and laid down on the blanket behind them, content to laze in the warmth of the sunset. The sun was still setting so late. Freddie wondered if the government would decide to treble the daylight savings this year and have it still look as bright as midday at midnight.

Freddie started to eat the dinner Rosie had brought her quietly while Rosie entertained Meatball, playing fetch with one of the toys Meatball had brought along with them. Smiling, Freddie watched them and tried to imagine having this even after the war. Her, Rosie, and a dog, sitting outside to watch the sunset and having a picnic. It sounded like a dream.

“Is this our first date?” Freddie asked suddenly. She had just finished dinner and was watching idly as Rosie started to unwrap one of the chocolate bars.

He glanced up at her with a confused grin. “No. Of course not. It can’t be.”

“I think it is.” She shared his smile, cocking an eyebrow in challenge.

“What about all those times in my plane?” Rosie countered.

Freddie scoffed. “Those were not dates. They were…” She searched for an appropriate word. “Trysts,” she decided. “Rendezvous. I don’t know. But I’m disappointed to have to inform you, Major Rosenthal, that taking a girl to your plane to fool around does not constitute a date.”

Rosie laughed, rolling his eyes amusedly. “Alright, first of all, we don’t ‘fool around’. And second of all, if I remember correctly you were the one taking me to my plane the first time we made love.”

Freddie grinned. “Oh, yes, because you took so much convincing. Need I remind you I can’t actually get in without your help?”

“What about in Oxford, then?” Rosie challenged, returning to unwrapping the chocolate bar but grinning to himself as he did it. “When we got ice cream? When you showed me around? When we went to the jazz club?”

Freddie hummed thoughtfully. “Though you make a strong case, you remain incorrect. We got ice cream because I wanted ice cream and you agreed to go with me. I showed you around because that is what people tend to do when they take someone home with them. And the jazz club…” She had to consider her argument for a moment. “Well, the jazz club would be your most compelling argument, but considering it was my idea and I suggested it to you when we were still just friends, I don’t think it can be considered a date.”

Rosie tipped his head back and groaned playfully. “There was a rose on our table!”

Freddie raised both of her eyebrows as he met her eyes once more. “Did you put it there?”

“No.”

“Did you ask them to put it there?”

“No.”

“Then I fail to see the relevance.”

Rosie laughed, tossing the chocolate bar to the blanket so he could wrap both of his arms around Freddie and lift her to sit between his legs. “So hard to please,” he teased into her hair as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She giggled as he kissed her cheek and then her neck. “If all those weren’t dates then this ain’t a date either. If we’ve still got a first date to have then I wanna plan it properly.”

Freddie grinned, turning her face towards him and instantly receiving a kiss to her lips. She laughed. “After careful consideration I’ve decided to allow you to take me on a formal first date, Major. This will be a prologue, of sorts. A prelude.”

“A preview,” Rosie suggested, grinning.

“Right,” Freddie agreed. “A preview. Exactly.”

“When can I take you out on a real date?” His eyes were all lit up like he was looking at the stars.

Freddie smiled back at him, lifting a hand to caress his cheek fondly. “I believe that’s up to you, the Right Honourable Date Planner.”

“Alright,” Rosie conceded. “When would be a bad time to take you out?”

Freddie considered this. “Late at night or early in the morning,” she decided. “A good window of opportunity would be when we’d usually be in the officers’ club.”

“Gotcha,” Rosie confirmed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Freddie smiled, leaning in to nuzzle their noses together. “I look forward to seeing what you come up with.”

Freddie remained sitting between Rosie’s legs as they made a start on the dessert he’d acquired for them. She hummed happily as she alternated between the chocolate and the strawberries, smiling every time Rosie leaned down to press a kiss against the side of her face.

She could feel how in love he was feeling, sitting there on an old blanket in the middle of the airfield, eating stolen sweets as the sun set. He couldn’t seem to get his hands off of her, nor his lips. And Freddie resented that she’d been the reason they’d been kept apart for a little while. This new workload had come with a lot of consequences but the worst of them was making her take for granted the man who had her heart.

“Rosie, I love you,” Freddie declared as she finished her chocolate bar and turned to face him. She sat up on her knees between his legs and curled her arms around his neck. “I love you so bad.”

His smile was wide as he gazed back at her through the vibrant orange of the setting sun. “I love you too, Fred. So, so bad.”

She sat quietly and just looked at him for a little while, taking in his face and its happy glow, his curls and the almost red tint to their ends under the light of the sunset, the fond curve of his lips as he smiled, not for any particular reason other than contentedness.

“I love you so much,” Freddie whispered, brushing a kiss against his smiling lips. After Daniel was killed she thought she’d never love a man again, that she’d live a long, lonely life and die old, still dreaming of the love she’d lost at twenty-one. But here was Rosie and she loved him more than life itself, more than she’d imagined herself capable of feeling love anymore. He’d met all of her rebuttals with patience and acceptance and gifted her the love she had now by being willing to wait for it. “My angel,” she breathed, rubbing her thumb over his cheek as she cupped it. “My love.”

Rosie was smiling. His cheek was warm beneath her thumb. “How do you say ‘I love you’ in German?”

Freddie smiled and moved her thumb out of the way momentarily just so she could press a kiss to his blushing cheek. “Ich liebe dich,” she said. “But you can only use it with someone you’re in love with. You have to be absolutely sure.”

“Ich liebe dich,” Rosie said, trying hard to work out the unfamiliar syllables.

Freddie smiled, endeared by his attempt. “Ich lieb’ dich auch, Bärchen.”

“What does that mean?”

“Bärchen?” Rosie nodded, so she translated, “Little bear. It’s a term of endearment. You would only use it for a boyfriend or a husband and since Daniel hated German I’ve never really gotten to use it. But you -” she was smiling wide as she kissed the tip of his nose, “- are the most ‘Bärchen’ Bärchen I have ever met.”

“I’m a little bear?” Rosie scrunched his nose up, both in response to her kiss and to her claim.

Freddie laughed. “Not because you’re little! Because you’re precious. ‘Little’ is used in German terms of endearment more to emphasise the fondness you feel for something than for size. So a Junge is a young boy, but a Jungchen is a young boy you feel affection for, generally a son. He doesn’t have to be little. It’s the same with Bärchen. So you’re my Bärchen. Und ich lieb’ dich so sehr, ich könnte sterben.”

Rosie was smiling even though he couldn’t understand her. “Can you teach me some? I wanna be able to understand you when you speak German.”

Freddie grinned, sitting up straighter on her knees. “You want to learn German?”

Rosie tilted his head to the side as he gazed at her, his eyes flicking between the bright smile on her lips and the warmth in her eyes. “It’s a part of you. Maybe the only part of you I don’t understand yet.”

Freddie fell forward into his arms, curling her own around his neck as she kissed him repeatedly. “I love you,” she mumbled against his lips between kisses, again and again and again. “Ich lieb’ dich. I love you. I love you so bad it hurts.”

“I don’t want it to hurt,” Rosie said, pressing another kiss to her lips.

“It feels happy too,” Freddie reassured him. “Safe and warm and exciting. It just hurts when I don’t know how to express it clearly enough.”

Rosie smiled. “I think you do a pretty good job.”

Freddie shook her head. “You’ll never know how much I love you, whatever language I tell you in.”

“But I feel it.”

“Good.” Freddie smiled. She needed him to feel it. If there was one person in the whole world who deserved to know he was loved it was Rosie. She couldn’t stand the thought of him ever passing a day doubting it.

[pacifymebby]

t r o u b l e / chapter thirty two

"What do you wanna see Michael for?" Asked Isaiah later that evening as we sat together in Alfie's kitchen. We'd been served dinner and though I was hungry I'd already decided I couldn't eat the food which had been placed in front of me.

He was giving me such a cynical look, face screwed up, disbelief worn shamelessly on his smirking lips.

"He's family." I shrugged but he just chuckled and shook his head. "What?" I asked when he didn't reply, when he simply kept up that smirking raised brow stare.

"Feelin home sick all of a sudden love?" He was laughing at me, I could see the amusement dancing in his eyes. I rolled mine.

"Michaels the only one who came to our recital when we finished left lower school and moved to 16+" I said cutting up my food carefully, studying it as I did. "It'll be the same this year no doubt... If we even manage to graduate after Tommy's little shit show..."

"You're so fuckin dramatic..." He said with a smirk, "obviously you're gonna graduate," he said shoving another meatball into his mouth, pausing only to chew and swallow, cutting me off just as I opened my mouth to argue. "And, when you do... I'll come."

"What?"

"When you graduate," he said mopping up the last of his stew with a slice of bread, "I'll come to your recital or your ceremony or whatever..."

And when he closed his mouth and held my gaze I realised I couldn't bide myself anymore time by asking "what?" One more time. Realised that if I didn't have anything to say in that moment then all I could do was remain quiet or shrug him off. And I couldn't think of anything to say because I wasn't sure what to make of his statement. Wasn't sure whether I should be pleased or touched or suspicious.

So I didn't say a word about it and instead turned my attention back to the plate.

"You want this? I'm full." I said standing up before he could answer, my chair scraping across the floor as my feet hit the stone and I pushed away from the counter we'd been eating at.

"Aye go on then.." he sighed reaching for my plate, taking another piece of bread and tearing it.

I couldn't watch him eat and so instead I turned away, arms folded across my chest as I gazed out of the kitchen window.

The view wasn't particularly impressive, it was simply a stretch of roof, clean slope of grey slate cutting down from one wall to meet another clean slope of grey slate which climbed to meet another. There was a kind of hollow in the middle where the house gave way to a walled garden in the middle of the structure, a tree confined along with a goldfish pond and a bench, a bowl of water left for Cyril.

The sunset broke behind the rooftops and gold light leaked between the cracks and the nooks. Spilled over the moss which grew on the slate slopes and painted them amber shades of soft green.

Outside the evening was still and peaceful and soon to be swallowed once again by London's muted grey night.

"You don't wanna see Michael Sylvie..." said Isaiah from where he sat perched by the counter.

"I do Isaiah."

"They fucked him up pretty badly..."

"I know, that's why I want to see him..."

"What do you wanna upset yourself for girl, what's the point in that?"

"Who says it'll upset me..."

"I do alright, I say it'll fuckin upset you because it will fuckin upset you alright?" He snapped, his cutlery clattering against the table when he smacked his hand down. The sound was shrill and sharp but I didn't flinch. Just remained still, watching two magpies on the roof.

"Oh well if it's your expert opinion..." I smirked aware that I was pushing his buttons again, aware that I was about to drive him to despair once more. But I couldn't help myself, couldn't help the urge to push him until he snapped, just to prove that I could. I told myself it was to remind him that I wasn't just some girl, that I wasn't fragile, that I was just as dangerous as him. But I wonder now if it was perhaps just that I liked the tension in his jaw when he was gripped by the frustration I caused him.

"Why do you really want to see him?" He asked after another moments quiet. A moment in which I'd been able to hear him deliberately draw a slower breath, trying to calm himself down.

"I told you, he's family... And I know it's worse than John told us so I want to see him for myself."

"You want to risk your life just to prove your brothers lie to you?"

"You make it sound unreasonable but it's not."

I heard his chair scrape against the floor then too. Heard him get up. His cutlery scraping on his plate as he stacked it atop mine. I felt the shift in the atmosphere as he crossed the kitchen floor and stopped just beside me. His elbow knocked mine as he placed our dirty dishes down in the deep basin and reached for the tap.

"It won't upset me," I said again, "and I want to know who hit him... I've visited my brothers in hospital before Saiah..."

"This is worse," he said quietly, "Michael should be dead love, he ain't in any state to tell you anything..."

"I still want to see him..." I said stubbornly plunging my hands into the hot water until I found a plate I could concentrate on washing instead of concentrating too much on Isaiah, how close he was standing to me, how quietly he was talking to me.

"I'm not gonna take you Sylvie," he said with a small smirk, "y'can phone him if you're worried..."

"You said he isn't in any state to talk..." I said, eyes focussed with a dead glow on the plate I'd long since scrubbed clean. "It won't upset me." I said again knowing the words were falling on deaf ears, not expecting him to reach out to me the way he did when I said it again.

He took my chin in his hand and turned my gaze away from the plate, forced me to look at him.

Scrutinised my dead dark eyes for a moment. And though I held his gaze with a stubborn determination he saw something there I hadn't been able to hide.

"You already are." He said letting me go, taking the plate from my wet hands and resting it carefully on the dish rack.

"Fine." I said quietly, my voice so certain, so unwavering, all the sharp smoothed carefully down by my tongue, that the word fell light but lay heavy in the silence between us which followed.

He didn't say anything, just took the sponge from my hands and nodded for me to leave him to it. But I didn't want to because doing the dishes had felt like biding my time. Had given me something to think about whilst I was busy thinking about other things. It had been something for my hands to busy themselves with whilst my mind raced through calculations and weighed up suspicions.

So I remained by his side feeling blindly in the soapy water for something else I could pick up and wash. A ghost of an apology skimming both our lips when my fingers brushed over the back of Isaiah's hand beneath the water. The relief moments later when I found a knife, felt the blade dig a warning into my palm as I closed my fingers around the wrong end.

And as we stood together washing the dishes in silence I tried to think through too many things at the same time.

First their was the trouble with Sunny.

Something about Freddie Sabini's note had been troubling me since I'd held it pinched between my hands. The risk he'd taken to deliver it to our door.

Because if he'd known he'd been found out, if he'd known there was a chance he was being followed, then why had he crossed the city to our front door and left a sign.

Second there was the trouble with Michael.

I hadn't been lying to Isaiah when I'd given him those reasons for wanting to see my cousin. Michael had been the only member of our family to attend that recital. One which had felt pivotal at the time when we were only 16 and didn't realise yet that every recital, every show we danced in was going to feel pivotal. Was going to feel make or break.

At the time the flowers he'd left us had been the only good luck and the only congratulations, I'm proud of you, that we'd had. He was the last member of the family to show up to any of our performances and the week Sunny had been announced as Odette he had sent her flowers to the flat.

Perhaps his reputation with the outside world was one of a sleazy playboy always getting arrested for petty possession charges, kicked out of clubs with bulging pupils and red eyes, but he'd always found time amid his careless antics for me and Sonya.

And I hadn't forgotten that. If not especially because of the reputation he had. The bad seed. There wouldn't be a single member of the public not secretly thinking he'd deserve it if he died. And if he deserved it then so would my brother's, so would my Aunt Pol, so would Uncle Charlie, so would Ada and Esme... So would Isaiah. So would Sunny and I.

I couldn't leave him on his own in that private ward. Couldn't leave him to the company of the armed police who would be being paid to guard him but who could probably be swayed with a little nudge from a Changretta or Sabini.

Not when I knew the devastation that Polly would be gripped with having been forced by Tommy to keep her distance. He was holding her hostage in that big house too and I knew she would be desperate to know her boy wasn't alone. Knowing Polly she'd probably be able to sense the second I stepped inside his hospital room. And I hoped she would know it was me, that he was in tender company.

"Whatve you got to do before bed?" Asked Isaiah, his voice a little lower, heavier than it had been before. The warm water lapping at our wrists had clearly subdued him, lulled him and left him suddenly aware of his own exhaustion.

For that I was grateful. It was going to make my evening much easier.

"I haven't practiced today so..." I shrugged knowing he would force himself to stay up with me, knowing he would sit there in a chair in the corner of the room, watching me, longing for me to give in for the night so that he could get some rest.

And if I could wear him out just enough then perhaps he wouldn't wake when I left in the middle of the night.

"Don't you reckon you should just try an get a decent night's sleep in you?" He asked but I could tell from the way he looked at me that he new it was a futile question.

"I napped."

"Mmm sure that half an hour's done you the world of bloody good..." he said only really grumbling to himself as he pulled the plug in the sink and reached behind me for the tea towel.

I ignored his comment and took up the other half of the towel scrunching it in my own hands to dry myself off.

He kept holding it even after he'd finished, waiting patiently for me to be done.

"Well I'll wait up with you," he said letting me get away with ignoring him again as I dropped the towel and turned away. Listening carefully to his footsteps as he followed me. He flicked the kitchen light off behind him and followed me to the gym Alfie had shown me earlier that afternoon on the "guided tour." The guided tour which had been his way of showing us all the rooms we could use and all the rooms which were barred to us upon "pain of death."

He'd been fairly generous with his permissions and really his little tour had felt like simply another method of talking too much to teach us who was in charge. To have us walking on eggshells aware that every second spent in his home was thanks to his generosity. Something he'd reminded me more than once, wasn't a trait he was famed for. Impatience, contrarianism, a short fuse... Those were the traits he was remembered for and wouldn't we do well to remember that.

Among the rooms he'd barred us from were his office, his bedroom, two doors which stood beside one another at the top of the stairs on the third floor, and a bathroom. He was very particular apparently about his bathroom. I'd struggled not to smirk when he'd frowned and shaken his head. Struggled not to laugh because an infamous gangster was apparently a nitpicking germaphobe...

Among the rooms he'd been so gracious as to let us use however was a gym. It wouldn't be perfect for training because it had been designed as a boxing gym with the usual soft mat floors, punch bags and lifting equipment taking up the space I would need. But it was better than nothing and, as I was beginning to realise, more than generous coming from a man who valued his privacy and personal space more than anyone else I'd ever met.

I was expecting Isaiah to shake his head at me when I placed myself down in the center of the room and began stretching, I was expecting to be chastised, told off for trying too hard, for wearing myself out. But once we were in the room Isaiah didn't say another word to me. Instead he watched me as I crossed the room, watched me drop to the floor and begin pointing my toes, going through my gentle stretches to ease myself up. He watched me with a growing intensity, with shadowy eyes and a glowering kind of pout.

And then he stopped.

He crossed the floor, brushing past me without a second glance, left me watching him as he stopped in front of the equipment wall and began examining the sets of gloves and guards hanging from the wall.

I watched as he took a pair down, slipped them over his hands and flexed his fingers. Watched as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and left it abandoned on the floor. Tried not to watch when he moved silently and took up a fighters stance before a punching bag, his eyes steely and glazed as he flared the inanimate object down.

Forced myself to watch as he channelled his anger into every rapid punch, the bag taking it all, muting every hit. He growled, the muscles in his stomach tightening as he threw another burst of short sharp stabbing punches that left a little lump in my throat. Left a tight kind of knot in my own stomach as I swallowed down and tore my gaze away from him. Tried to focus on my stretches and then, later on my steps.

I'd thought he might tire quickly with all the sleep he hadn't had. Instead he remained determined, stubborn and cut off from the rest of the world. The sound of his rhythmic jabs punctuating my delicate turns and steps. Every teetering pirouette I managed accompanied by the consistency of his anguish landed into that punching bag.

The sound left a strange sensation settled over me. As if I was being haunted by him. Every time I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on my steps, every time I tried to slip into my sister's shoes Isaiah would grunt or growl with the effort of his exertion, and the image of his shirtless torso rippling with tension would come back to bite me.

It was knowing I was at the heart of that tension which left the lump in my throat. The knot in my stomach. And though I told myself that that really was all it was, guilt, I knew it wasn't.

And every time I opened my eyes or stole a glance back at him I found myself hoping he'd snap out of his apparent trance and cut a glance at me. Hold my gaze as he landed one of those cutting jabs into the punch bag. Perhaps he'd feel better if he was looking at me when he landed the punch.

But Isaiah's temper didn't fade until much later, when I was at the trembling crescendo of my routine. When I was en pointe and shivering, pushing myself that one step beyond my limit. Dangerously teetering, the burn in my thigh, in my calf and in my hip, everything pulled taut and trembling. Knee brushing my ear as I held the position my sister had perfected a long time ago.

With my eyes closed I couldn't see him staring, couldn't see the way his eyes drifted over my silhouette, the way his brooding expression seemed to shadow a little more, some kind of sad awe overcoming him. With my eyes closed I didn't see anything of him at all. But I heard it.

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The silence. The gentle creek of the punch bag swinging to a halt, a stillness capturing the room. A silence I had complete power over.

For a moment the realisation threatened to dizzy me, I felt the tingling rush of selfawareness in my fingertips and cheeks. I drew a breath and forced it down. Shut it off. Remained perfectly balanced, exhaled slowly, in complete control as I began to spin slowly like a china figure in a music box. Delicate. Pristine.

And still the silence remained. Isaiah stood watching me as if he didn't recognise the girl in front of him at all. And perhaps he didn't. I must have seemed a far cry from the girl who'd put a gun to her own head and threatened to throw herself out of the window only the day before.

Perhaps now, in a state of hypnotic concentration, caught in the wrap of my celestial revolve, I appeared from certain angles, to be Sonya.

And it was that thought which choked me. That thought which seized my body so that I knew I was going to fall even before the door burst open and Alfie's voice startled both me and Isaiah.

It was the thought of Sonya which sent me toppling. It just so happened that Alfie's poorly timed entrance appeared to be the cause. The disturbance which left the fragility of my balance all too obvious when I wavered and fell from my position to the floor.

Except I didn't hit the floor. Didn't feel the unforgiving thud or the burn of friction when my thigh came down against the vinyl.

Instead I felt the thud of a chest beneath my shoulder, two arms closed carefully around me as Isaiah stumbled to break my fall and hold me secure.

Instead I felt myself overwhelmed by the warmth of being caught, the snug of someone else's embrace as he scooped me up with ease.

"Fuckin hell Solomon's you never heard of knockin?" Snapped Isaiah, his frustration vibrating through his chest and mine as he spoke, still holding me. His grip was tense but not too tight and I could tell he wasn't about to let me go any time soon. I should have minded that but in the moment I didn't. In the moment I was grateful for his arms around my waist, one hand holding my shoulder, his body shielding mine so that Alfie couldn't see the way I was left trembling like a little bird. I was breathless. Not because of the shock but because the perilous move had torn through the last of my energy reserves and now that I was being held up by someone else I was realising just how exhausted I really was.

"Ever heard of knockin? Sunshine this is my fuckin house ain't it... Oh I'm sorry do excuse me little Shelby..." he said with a faux gracious gesture, "ain't used to minding me language and your little lap dog really does have a way of tempting my worse side..." he said sneering at Isaiah.

"Don't give a fuck who's house it is mate, she coulda been hurt... Fuckin fell because of you!"

I could feel the muscles in Isaiah's arms tense as he spoke and his temper flared and when I leant back against his chest, tilted my head back to look up at him I could see his glare burning, nostrils flared as he snarled at Alfie. But Alfie hardly seemed to notice Isaiahs temper, didn't seem phased by the threat in his eyes as he chuckled and shook his head.

"You care about the little gypsys health so much Lapdog, then perhaps you might like to think about letting her stay up so late eh?" He said, his eyes softening but not soft. "What do you think little Shelby? I reckon it's past your bedtime ain't it..."

And though his condescending tone left my cheeks burning with a furious blush, my eyes shadowy with a stubborn sulk, I could feel my own frailty in every shaking breath I took. So when Isaiah spoke up again in my defense I just shook my head.

"He's right Siah, I'm fuckin tired anyway." I said trying to shrug my way out of his hold on me, but in the moment I tugged away he held me a little more firm. His hands moving down to my waist to steady me before he let me go.

And even when he let me walk free he followed so close behind that I was sure I could feel his steps overlapping mine. His chest shadowing my shoulder blades.

I stopped in the doorway, inches from Alfie. Looked up at him with wide and blinking innocent eyes.

"Goodnight Mr Solomon's" I said as sweetly as I could, my smirk tugging at my lips when I curtseyed, held his gaze with a simmering glare to let him know I was laughing at him still.

"Call her Gypsy one more time..." growled Isaiah, his eyes full of disgust when he snarled at the older man. The two of them starring eachother down in the doorway, neither one willing to back down.

Alfie let out a low whistle, his eyes twinkling with unforgiving amusement.

"Get a muzzle for your pet little Shelby..." he chuckled as he stepped inside the gym and watched us walk back down the hall together.

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[the-inkwell-variable]

Writeblr Interview Tag!

Thanks so much for the tag, @sableglass!

Short stories, novels, or poems?

Novels all the way. I've tried my hand at short stories, and they always end up being novellas or straight up novels by the time I'm done with them. May as well stick with what my little brain clearly desires!

What genre do you prefer reading?

Mysteries (cozy or otherwise), horror (especially zombie fiction or apocalypse fiction, yes please), fantasy (especially cozy, I love cozy fantasy so much, have you read Legends and Lattes?), and romance.

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

I'm a little of both! I'll generally have a plan in my head at the very least, if not a brief outline written down somewhere, but when I actually sit down to write, my writing tends to veer off wherever it wants and do its own thing (for example, FUCKING CHUCK). As long as it makes sense, I tend to just let it go wherever it wants lol

What music do you listen to while writing?

Surprisingly, I don't listen to much music while writing. I'll daydream to it, absolutely, but I mostly just throw on some Markiplier or an old debate that I've heard ten thousand times and write to that. It's more about the background noise than the actual content, y'know?

But when I DO listen to music, I drift toward lofi or mood music compilations on youtube. The kind that DMs play during their DnD sessions. Love those so much, they really help keep me locked in a single mood, which I absolutely need when I'm writing a scene.

Favorite books/movies?

Oh god. Lord of the Rings (including the Hobbit don't @ me). Train to Busan (or any Korean zombie movies/shows, really). Some Disney and Pixar - Big Hero 6, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, Emperor's New Groove, etc. The Strain is one of my favorite TV shows - I also love Cutthroat Kitchen above all else, a bunch of different anime, and Dance Moms (yes I know it's toxic and yes I am ashamed of myself for enjoying it. I pity the kids but I rage at the moms.)

As for books, my favorites are the Beechwood Harbor Mystery series, The Luminous Dead, Thief Liar Lady, All Systems Red, Legends and Lattes, A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking, anything Holly Black, Suffer the Children, Contagion, Luck in the Shadows, Assistant to the Villain, Dead of Night, and Surviving the Evacuation!

Any current WIPs?

Oh gosh. I'm bopping between From Carnival to Chamomile, a prequel to a cozy mystery series, and Dauntless, a zombie apocalypse trilogy, right now. Sometimes I'll work on Priestess Without Honor, a paranormal low-fantasy romance, and Chosen Against My Will, a dark mafia romance. I also have zer0 ALPHA, a lit-rpg isekai zombie apocalypse novel, but I haven't touched that in years and have only recently rediscovered my notes for it.

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be?

I wear the same thing every day, surprisingly. That's the autism for ya. I love jeans and a T-shirt, especially if that T-shirt has a picture from an anime or show or something like that. Printed shirts, I think they're called. Oh, and mismatched socks. That's me.

Create a character description of yourself: 

Too tall for her own good and unwanted curves for days. Bobbed dark-blue hair with steel gray eyes. Too busy writing or gaming to really notice what's going on. Expect a text back within seconds of receiving it - she reads faster than most people expect and tends to read every text twice just to give it that safety buffer. If there isn't a snack and a drink nearby, call the police.

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

Hehehehe maybe. But not exactly in a good way. I'm very much the kind of person who will put someone I dislike into my book just so they can get the justice they won't get in the real world, even over something as minor as pronouncing my name wrong on purpose (I'm looking at you, Keiara).

Are you kill happy with your characters?

I want to say yes because I kill off characters constantly, but when it comes to my main OCs, no. I can't bring myself to kill them at all. I go out of my way to create characters for death (like FUCKING CHUCK) rather than put my favorites in the line of fire. I think that's a problem I need to work on.

Coffee or Tea while writing?

coffeecoffeecoffeecoffee

but I do love tea, especially in the fall. In the fall, I tend to drift toward tea and apple cider rather than coffee.

But otherwise? Coffeeeeeee

Slow or fast writer?

Fast writer when I actually sit down to write! Slow writer when I'm procrastinating. I've been working on Dauntless for...thirteen years? Twelve?

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from?

I get inspiration from EVERYTHING. Dreams. Books. Movies. Something dumb my partner says offhandedly.

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

I absolutely want to be something cool, like a shadow mage. But I'm probably a little gremlin that hides in the edges of the woods and steals your socks. Mmmm socks.

Most fav book cliche:

Enemies to lovers! Especially when one person is smitten at firstt sight and doesn't realize it.

Least favorite cliche:

Friendship is magic. Don't get me wrong, I'm fine with powerful friendships being front and center, but when the big bad is literally destroyed because fRiEnDsHiP I gag a little bit. I also hate undeserved happy endings - make the ending make sense. If it's a sad or horror book, sometimes the ending needs to be bad. And finally, forced romance. No. No thank you. Some stories don't need romance.

Favorite scene to write?

Descriptions! Am I good at them? No. Will I spend three pages describing a tree? Maybe.

Also conversations. I tend to do a lot of conversations and monologues in my writing. Need to work on that.

Reason for writing?

If I don't write down the ideas in my head, I will explode.

TAGLIST: @falconfate - @space-writes - @leahnardo-da-veggie - @i-can-even-burn-salad - anyone who wants to take part!

[edupunkn00b]

Mise Out of Place

Edited photo. Original by Icons8 Team via Unsplash.

mise en place (ˌmē-ˌzäⁿ-ˈpläs) noun Borrowed from French. A culinary process in which ingredients are prepared and organized (as in a restaurant kitchen) before cooking Also : the set of ingredients prepared using this process

Written for @starlocked01 for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange. I hope you enjoy this mix of crack and fluff with some elements unexpectedly made canon by last week's video.

Many thanks to the developmental beta reader, "Some Guy," who provided invaluable assistance and cheerleading with this story. Fluff is hard, y'all.

WC: 2k (okay, almost 2K) - Rated: T for a bit of swearing - CW: fluff, crack, and a hint of Remus-y imagery - [ AO3 ] -

“And… we’re live!”

“Thanks, Freddie,” Roman muttered, just out of earshot of the lavaliere mics pinned to Patton's and Remus' aprons.

“Maybe after his glow up,” Janus murmured, equally quietly.

Patton grinned at the camera, the edge of Janus’ hat fuzzy and barely visible past the glare of the ring light. “Hey there, Kiddos—”

“I’m Remus!” Said Side jumped into the frame, one long arm draped over Patton’s shoulders. Instead of looking at the camera, he stared expectantly at Patton, his grin far, far too wide.

Patton nodded, his own smile still plastered on. “And I’m your Happy Pappy Patton!”

Remus leaned closer and they said in unison, “And welcome to Messers en Place!”

Janus’ hat bobbed on the other side of the camera and Patton’s smile brightened. They’d practiced and practiced—and practiced—their video intro, each time failing to be in sync. Even Patton had begun to fear they’d have to rewrite it. But this time, when it mattered, really mattered, they did it!

“And what are we making today, Pattycake?” Remus prompted him when he failed to say his next line.

“Oh, right! To-daay…” He drew out his words as he looked around the ingredients oh-so-carefully spread out over the countertop. Mise en place, Roman had called it. Logan had tried to hide his surprise behind a little fumble with his glasses, but Patton hadn’t missed the way Logan’s eyes had widened.

“Ahem, well, yes, Roman is correct,” he'd finally managed. Remus bounced on his toes next to Patton, picking up each tiny bowl and sniffing at its contents.

“Careful there, Ro Bro,” he'd cackled. “Nerdy Wolverine’s gonna bust a nut with you knowing things.”

“I am not—”

“Hey, Pattycake, what’s this one?” Winking, Remus pulled him back into the present moment and shoved a bowl of brown spices into his hands.

“Oh, um…” Patton sniffed carefully. “It’s cumin, Remus.”

“Well, if you insist…” he began, reaching for his belt.

“Remus!” Roman cried, bonking his brother's head with the boom mic.

“Muse, not now, boy,” Janus murmured from the other side of the room.

Virgil groaned from his perch at the top of the refrigerator, silently tapping the sides of the fire extinguisher in his lap. “Are we sure having these two do a cooking show was a good idea for the stream?”

“Of course it is!” Remus and Roman said together. 

And it really was a good idea. The twins had blurted out the concept together during a brainstorming session and even Logan had agreed this would be first in their livestream series. He'd even suggested the name.

So here they were, the two of them, about to cook. Together.

They could do this. Patton could do this.

Remus’ smile had grown too wide again, eyebrows arched high.

Right, the cumin.

“We’re making spaghetti and meatballs,” Patton remembered his line and smiled at the camera.

“Balls,” Remus muttered under his breath, shoulders dancing.

Patton gasped and sneezed into the little bowl, spraying cumin up into the air and all over his face.

“Oh, I gotcha, Daddy—”

“Remus!” Roman lowered the boom mic with an offended huff only he could manage to sound princely. 

“Aw, Kiddo!” His catigan sleeves were safely tucked beneath his apron, but he brushed them clean anyway. Remus whipped out a concerningly clean handkerchief from under his sash and dabbed at Patton’s face. 

“It’s sweet,” Patton smiled at Roman just off camera.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Roman muttered.

“You don’t get paid at all, Princey!”

“Need I remind you all we’re still live?” Logan hissed from the hallway.

“It’s fine, Logan, dear,” Janus murmured, tapping the laptop just out of frame. Comments scrolled up the screen faster than they'd ever been. “The viewers are eating it up.”

Logan frowned at the screen for a long moment before shrugging. “He’s right. Okay, carry on."

Face now clean, Patton nodded and carried a big stock pot to the sink. “Right, first step is to start the water. Remus, will you—”

“One step ahead of you, Daddy!” Patton barely made out his words over the rush of the faucet.

And the crash just behind him.

Patton swung around, water sloshing out of the pot and onto the floor. “Remus!”

Remus had shoved all the measured ingredients to the far edge of the counter. Spices and oil spilled over the plate of ground meat and the long loaf of italian bread was broken in half. A wedge of parmesan had impaled the softening butter and the head of garlic had rolled onto the floor. At the center of the counter was a giant neon green air fryer into which Remus had jammed the entire—sealed—box of linguini and a jar of sauce. "Oh, and Merry Christmas, by the way. Thought you could use one of these babies!" he said, slapping the top of the device. "Hm… I wonder if I could fit one of those in here, too…"

“Wait, Remus, no—” Patton dropped the stock pot and reached out as Remus cranked the air fryer up to 500°F and slammed the start button. 

“Well, it was nice having a kitchen,” Virgil muttered and pulled the pin from the extinguisher, nozzle aimed directly at the air fryer.

“No, it’s fine,” Patton said, voice cracking even as he grinned up at Virgil.  “Don’t worry, Kiddo, everything will be—”

The air fryer beeped and the scent of burning paper filled his nose. He rushed toward the counter, hands outstretched to unplug the fryer, but his heel skidded on the wet floor and he slammed into Remus’ back instead.

“Hey, if you wanted to dance, Pattycake…” Remus spun around, catching him before he fell. “You could’ve just said so!”

“Remus!” Patton cried, clinging to his tunic as thick black smoke and the flicker of orange flames erupted out of the appliance. “Fire!”

With the grace of a cat and accompanied by a woosh of extinguisher foam, Virgil jumped down and doused the air fryer, the counter and most of Patton and Remus with the fire retardant. 

A spark caught on the edge of Virgil’s hoodie sleeve and the mic squealed as Roman dropped the boom and rushed over to smother it.

“Princey, I’m fine! Let’s get the rest of this—”

“Shit!” Roman swore as he slipped on the spreading puddle of water and extinguisher foam in the center of the room. Virgil grabbed him by his sash, pulling him to his feet.

“Gotcha, your Highnessness.”

Off camera, Logan slid closer to Janus. “Are we still filming?”

“Mm-hm. Wine?” he asked, offering a large goblet he’d procured from… somewhere.

Eyebrow raised, Logan accepted the glass and took a slow sip. “Out of everything in the kitchen, this is what you chose to save?”

“Why, yes, of course," he murmured before finishing his own glass and refilling it.

“Acceptable.”

~

Long after the livestream ended and the kitchen was—mostly—put back into order, the Sides called it a night and, one-by-one sauntered off to bed.

All the Sides but Remus, at least. Well, and Patton.

Remus had waited until everyone else's room had grown quiet and the lights spilling out from under each Side’s door had clicked off. A flickery bluish glow remained under Virgil’s door, but he typically wouldn’t actually fall asleep for another few hours anyway.

Patton’s door, though… Patton’s door had remained closed tight, without even the usual fairy lights brightening the edges of the door frame. And without the happy little sounds of his bedtime playlist.

Patton hadn’t gone to bed.

Taking more care than usual, Remus slipped off his boots and crept downstairs, skipping the creaky third and fifth steps. The living room, kitchen, and hall were dark, the patio door closed and locked with the blinds drawn tight. The clock on the microwave cast long, faint shadows over the kitchen floor and Remus spotted a bit of movement followed by a tiny sound.

He held his breath and waited. There it was again, a soft sniffle.

Dropping to the floor, Remus peered under the kitchen table. Patton sat hunched in the far corner, sweater-clad arms hugging his knees to his chest.

“Oh, hi, Kiddo,” he mumbled, wiping his cheeks against his forearms. “Can’t sleep?” he asked as though Remus was the one hiding alone in the dark.

“Was gonna ask you the same thing, Pattycake.”

“Oh…” Patton didn’t explain what the fuck he was doing down there, cardigan pulled over his potassium bicarbonate and cumin—ha!—stained apron. He just sort of looked down at his hands and pulled his legs up closer to him. Almost like he was making room.

Remus clambered under the table next to him, not quite touching but close enough to smell the smoke in Patton’s hair and clothes. Remus' own clothes smelled like his experiment upstairs and he inhaled the plasticy, acrid scent of burnt dyes and the forever chemicals from the extinguisher. It was even better than the fires for making s’mores at Thomas’ summer camp as a kid.

Remus wiggled his toes, watching Patton from the corner of his eye. He’d tucked his face close to his knees but his cheeks glimmered with new, silent tears. Remus breathed in again. The kitchen would reek of smoke for a long time after this.

“C-A-M—”

“Maybe later?” Patton sniffled. “I’m just not in the mood to sing right now, Kiddo.”

“You sure about that?” Remus scooted a little closer and bumped their shoulders together. “It’ll help if you just sing along…” He waited, watching Patton tap his foot, toes squelching in his still-sopping shoes. 

“C-A-M-P…” he began again, slower this time.

“F-I-R-E-S-O-N-G song,” Patton sang softly.

“C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E-S-O-N-G song…” Remus repeated.

A little smile cracked across the other Side’s face, softer and more real than it had been all day. “The C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E-S-O-N-G song.” Patton took a breath like he was about to jump into the next verse but he frowned, nose scrunched. “It still smells like burnt air fryer in here, huh?”

“Yeah,” Remus agreed, nodding his head with a grin. “We made our mark.”

“Yeah,” Patton said, curling over his knees again.

“Aw, Daddy-o,” Remus bumped his shoulder. “Is that why you’re hiding under here? ‘Cause of the fire?”

“Well, yeah,” Patton frowned, staring back at him. “I really wanted to make a great video. I wanted to… you know… make Thomas proud.”

“Fuck, Pattycake, we did! Have you seen the comments?”

Patton just shook his head so Remus sank them both down into his room where he’d left his laptop open to the video page. Views and comments continued to pour in, hours after the stream had ended. “Look!” he demanded, pushing Patton down into a mostly clean chair.

The Moral Side read quietly, eyes growing wider with each scroll. “They… they liked us?”

“Yeah they did!” Remus slapped his back. “So, whaddya say we make Elf Spaghetti next time? We can even add some Crofters to please the nerd.” Patton’s stomach grumbled and Remus’ grin grew. “You know… we never did eat dinner, Pattycake. How about we give it a trial run tonight?”

“Race you to the kitchen!” Patton laughed and sank down through the floor.

“Hey, that’s cheating!”

[flowery-laser-blasts]

My not so serious KP villain headcanons:

Personal headcanons that I have for the Kim Possible villains (not all of them). Long post.

Shego loves horror movies and podcasts and once scared the living hell out of Drakken after watching Ringu. She hid under the bed and once he almost drifted off to sleep, she reached from underneath to grab his hand and reveal her with hair covered face.

Shego hates cooking and rather orders take out than go through the effort of prepairing meals. The worst part is cleaning up dishes.

Shego can warm/radiate heat through her hands with her powers in a non-harmfull way. This comes in handy when massaging Dr D's stiff shoulders.

Shego's favourite chickflick is Legally Blonde. She showed it to Drakken once, he too, likes it. Now after every defeat they watch this movie while patching themselves up.

Dr Drakken loves British comedy such as Monty Python, the Mighty Boosh and Little Britain. He often quotes their jokes.

Dr Drakken has a complex bedtime skin care routine that he never skips and follows to a T. Though he only does it before bed, so if he stays awake for several days in a row, he won't do it until actually going to bed.

Dr Drakken actually plucks away stray hairs around his eyebrow to keep the look 'clean' and 'on fleek'.

Dr Drakken's shampoo smells of Lush' sugarplum fairy bodyspray.

Dr Drakken always sings the Mighty Boosh' 'Soup Song' when preparing soup. His secret ingredient to his vegetable soup with mini meatballs is tiny elbow macaroni.

Dr Drakken's 'take over the world by plants' scheme was stolen/inspired from Duff Killigan's failed attempt at turning the world into a golfcourse when the two were over at his place to discuss plans on the Tempes Simia idle and Monkey Fist was away to use the restroom.

Duff Killigan has one of those 'golf-on-your-toilet' golf sets in each restroom/bathroom.

Duff Killigan's favourite Disney movie is Brave, but more so because of the mother daughter bonding aspect of the story. He's a sucker for those kinds of movies.

Monkey Fist loves Shakespeare's works solely because of the infinite monkey theorem.

Monkey Fist has an incredible hatered towards the song "Banana Man" by Tally Hall and 'Day-O' by Harry Belafonte. It's an earworm that never leaves within a day and makes the monkey ninjas dance uncontrollably.

Monkey Fist takes extremely good care of personal hygiene and regularly cuts his nails.

Adrena Lynn's actual name is Adrien.

Adrena Lynn called out the Jackass cast for being fakes.

Adrena Lynn's favourite non extreme sport is table tennis.

Adrena Lynn started the 'girl dinner' tend.

Gill's favourite animals are sharks.

Gill bullied Ron because he wanted to look cooler in front of other camp kids. At his school, he would be the one being bullied.

Gill actually didn't dislike Ron at first but it changed when Ron grabbed an extra (and the last) chocolate pudding cup during dinner on their first day of camp.

Professor Dementor shines his helmet with a hand held waxing device, he never takes it off though.

Professor Dementor's favorite snack is caramel seasalt pretzels.

Professor Dementor wanted to become a children's book writer when growing up.

Dr Drakken, Monkey Fist and Duff Killigan play Dungeons&Dragons. Monkey Fist DMs most of the time, second is Drakken; Duff never DMs. The big bad evil guy is Kim Possible but they almost lose every campaign except for the rare occasion in which the BBEG dies due to accidental environmental circumstances out of their hands. They tried to replicate it irl but where do you find a giant dragon, three gnomes an enchanted blueberry pie and a catapult?

Motor Ed uses WD-40 for his hair instead of conditioner, seriously.

Motor Ed is a diehard Meatloaf fan (the artist, not the food).

Motor Ed despises Meatloaf (the food, not the artist).

Frugal Lucre loves pineapple pizza with extra ham

Frugle Lucre's arch enemy is Kim's cousin Larry.

Frugal Lucre collected cuddlebuddies but his mom threw them out because "you're too old for these toys, so I gave them away to your niece Pamela for her baby room" and that's his villain origin story.

Frugal Lucre has a Dr Drakken cosplay that he sometimes wears to (Hench co.) conventions (inspired by @gothicthundra 's Halloween chapter)

DNAmy's biggest inspiration for fashion is Velma Dinkley from the Scooby Doo franchise.

DNAmy hates Tom and Jerry because it promotes 'violence'.

DNAmy actually is pretty chill and wouldn't mind Kim Possible's company as long as Kim apologises for destroying her work. Kim is a fellow cuddlebuddy collector after all.

After Monkey Fist turned into stone, DNAmy tried reviving him. It didn't work out. She eventually moved on and started dating Frugal Lucre. They're in a happy committed relationship now.

The Bebe bots have their own reality show in Japan and are content with the attention and admiration from fans. They were offered a contact as idol group but they denied it because they didn't want to collaborate with Hatsune Miku.

Señior Senior Junior became a top model and worked with the fashionistas but when they got arrested again, SSJ used his privilege to continue his career.

With the help of Bonnie, Señior Senior Junior wrote an autobiography about his life under the influence of his father. It's titled "I didn't want to be a criminal, but Daddy made me do it." And it is said to become an autobiographical movie (but once again, Junior can't star in it).

Señior Senior Junior and Bonnie got married after Bonnie graduated from college.

Señior Senior Junior loves My little Pony friendship is magic and writes wholesome fanfiction. He likes PinkPie because she likes to party. He also realises that a lot of his youth is missed out on because of his father's wealth. He is semi thankful for villainy because it introduced him to Shego and their friendship. He tried making her watch it but she didn't seem into it.

Señior Senior Senior could actually give up villainy for his future grandchildren. This was Bonnie's initiative, because she doesn't want her kids to grow up around inmates and prisoners.

That's it for now, if I've got more I'll add it here!!

[pixeechix21]

Pt2 Königxreader

Summary: after you both finish, he takes you to a waffle house to sober you up. And at the end you learn just how dangerous he can be under that gentle demeanor.

Fluff like dancing and prancing on a cloud fluff.

Tw: mentions of sex, really nothing hut at the end it's a bit graphic could be worse tho

Waffles 2:

TOP NEWS TONIGHT (Mon)

Renowned lawyer was found in an alley bloodied and naked with the words carved on his back, "leave no evidence" he was found barely able to breathe due to a broken nose and ribs. No one knows who could have done this, if you have any information please call.

You nearly choke on your coffee as the tiny TV at work announces this. . König.

Sat:

Passing by the lights flash blurred, like in a fever dream. You can feel the light shaking of your legs as a result of before. It intrigues you at how he's just humming along, after the total mess he made of your guts. A small smile rests on your face as his thumb absentmindedly makes circles on your thighs, imprinting his hand.

Entering the dinner there's a little tinkle of a bell above you, then a thump and ring as you look behind you and König rubs his head. In the corner you slide into a bright red booth, across from you, you laugh as he tries to squeeze in. "Hi uuh, wait sorry," more squeaking of the leather booth.

"Take your time sweetheart, we're open for 24hrs," she says warmly," she says pulling out her writing pad. Once he settled down you state your order half drunk feeling the hangover setting in.

"Can I have a stack of waffles and Strawberries,"

"And for me chocolate and blueberry pancakes," he looks at the menu

"So for you two darlings, one waffle, and one chocolate blueberry pancake," as she goes away he corrects timidly, "no could it be two pancake stacks one chocolate the other Blueberries," she looks at him and nods.

As he looks at your face he explains "what it's very tiring trying to please you Schatz." You warm at him naming you, treasure. For the next hour you chat happily about whatever that comes up. The food comes and goes and the sun rises over the skyline. "Why do you want to forget so bad?" He looks sadly at you. "Did he hurt you?" You sit quietly contemplating opening up to this stranger. Looking out of the window you weigh the dangers. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me," he reassures sweetly. You give him a small smile, "no no it's okay I was just searching for words." A spotted cat jumps up out of nowhere to his lap and he leans back trying to distance himself, arms up as if in surrender to Meatball. "Haha Meatball likes you, she doesn't bite. Well…" you kid watching him widen his eyes sucking in his breath, "I'm joking she's sweet." He hesitantly starts to pet Meatball, getting a soft purring from her. "He didn't hurt me physically, 'never leave visible evidence he'd say. It was always more personal you know, like emotionally he'd hurt me," you blurt out. It was the first time you admitted that. "Lawyer?"

"Yeah how'd you know?"

"Wide guess," he shrugs his shoulders. Looking down admiringly at the cat massaging his chest with its claws. "You know you deserve better, no jerk should treat a lady like that," he says definitely, you loosen your grip on your legs and relax. Feeling the sleep coming to get you. "Come it's late I'll take you home."

Sometimes in the car you fall asleep and only briefly remember strong arms wrapping around you and hoisting up. "Goodnight I'll teach him about leaving evidence," he whispers before a small kiss is placed on your cheek.

[dragonking10]

Lancaster: Love Is The Best Gift Part 3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Thank you @danteyakumo for the idea.

JNR, GREY and Zwei were all sitting in the cabin as Ruby was trying to cook dinner for everone. Garnet went to his Mom to tell her of all the adventures he had as his father was close behind him.

Garnet: Come on Mom, with you back with us we could take down Salem's followers together!

Jaune chuckles and rubs his son's head messing up his hair

Jaune: Calm down son, it's a lot to take in.

Ruby went to grab a pitcher to make tea in but accidentally drops it, but Jaune was quick enough to catch it.

Ruby embarrassed: Heh sorry, I'm a little out of practice.

Jaune smiles: Well, I didn't marry you for your cooking.

Nora: I hope not, last time she cooked meatballs, it gave Grimm food poisoning.

Ren: Nora.

Nora: What? It's true!

Ruby went to fill the pitcher with water seems lost in thought and felt a little out of place

Jaune notices his wife's look and looks down trying to figure out a way to help her feel better, but then he got an idea

Jaune whistles a tune and walks to his wife

Ruby froze recognizing the tune

Nora: Oh! I love this song!

Jaune's whistling continues has he reached for the overfilled pitcher from Ruby's hand and set it down

Jaune: Remember our song Ruby?

Bold = Jaune, Italic = Ruby, Italic Bold = Both

Jaune: I'll swim and sail on savage seas, with never fear of drowning.

Jaune: And gladly ride the waves of life, if you will marry me.

Jaune: No scorching sun!

Jaune caresses her face

Jaune: Nor freezing cold! Will stop-

Nora: WILL STOP ME ON MY JOUR- *notices everyone staring except Ruby* ney, sorry.

Jaune glares at Nora for a bit before continuing.

Jaune: If you will promise me your heart.

Jaune holds Ruby's hand

Jaune: And Love?

Jaune singing a bit of Ruby's part hoping for her to sing along

Jaune sighs starting to lose hope, but then

Ruby: And love me foe eternity

Jaune looks up at Ruby and started to smile a bit

Ruby walks over

Ruby: My dearest one, my darling dear your mighty words astound me.

Ruby raises her arm making a fist

Jaune notices it and does the same, they go in a circle and switches arms

Ruby: But I've no need of mighty deeds when I feel your arms around me

Jaune laughs a bit

Jaune: But I will bring you rings of gold, I'd even you poetry.

Ruby: Oh would ya?

Jaune holds her close

Jaune: And I will keep FROM ALL HARM! If you would stay beside me.

They continue to dance

Ruby: I have no use for rings, I care not for your poetry.

Ruby grabs Jaune's hands and they spin in circles

Ruby: I only want your hand to hold.

Jaune: I only want you near me!

J&R: To love, to kiss to sweetly hold for the dancing and the dreaming!

They are not the only ones who's dancing. Ren and Nora, Garnet and Freya, even Ezekiel and Yuri are dancing together even though on the outside they hate it but love it on the inside.

J&R: Through all life's sorrows and delights I'll keep your love inside me!

They start to sing faster

J&R: I'll swim and sail on savage seas with never fear of drowning.

Nora joins in

J&R&N: And gladly ride the waves of life if YOU WILL MARRY ME/MEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Jaune picks Ruby up and spins in circles for a bit and then let her down with both laughing

Meanwhile

Nora:EEEEEEEEEEEE

Zwei was trying to cover his ears to muffle Nora's terrible singing

Nora:I'MSTILLGOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN*Ren pats her* I'm done.

Jaune smiles at Ruby: I thought I'd have to before I sing that song again

Ruby: Well no need for drastic measures

Jaune: Will you come home Ruby? And be my wife again?

Garnet walks up with Zwei in his arms

Jaune pulls their son closer

Jaune: We can be a family again, what do you say?

Ruby giggles: You don't even need to ask.

Ruby walks over to her husband and son and hugged them with everyone else coming in to join the hug

Look out baddies, the Rose-Arc family are together again and stronger than ever.

[theofficersacademy]

PROMPT 1. THE MASKS WE WEAR. . .

The magic is about to begin. Perhaps you will, this eve, make new acquaintances - or perhaps you might reacquaint yourselves with those you thought you knew.

Bring your true selves along for the night, and together forge unforgettable memories...!

Share some of the refreshments with a friend or stranger

[ Champagne ] - Imported from the western shores of the Adrestrian Empire, the school purchases 70 bottles of this stuff well in advanced for this day alone. The bartenders are under strict orders not to offer any student more than one glass.

[ Sparkling Water ] - Fresh spring water that has been magically carbonated. Served with a squeeze of lime or a dash of one of the many fruit syrups available at the bartender’s disposal. 

[ Coffee ] - More specifically, a mocha brewed with Almyran coffee beans and Dagdan chocolate and served with hot milk. A sweeter variation of the drink taking Fódlan by storm. 

[ Tea ] - Just what it says on the tin! The only teas offered are Mint, Bergamot, Sweet-Apple Blend, Albinean Berry Blend, and Southern Fruit Blend, wrapped in small tea bags. Clever students bring their own tea.

[ Water ] - The liquid of life, the quencher of thirst. Served in crystalline glasses. And what’s more dramatic than throwing water at someone’s face!

[ Spaghetti and Meatball ] - A classic that's here to stay: a lovers’ portion of freshly-made spaghetti cooked in the monastery’s famous tomato sauce. The titular, singular meatball sits in the center, waiting for one lucky person to have their lover roll it to them with their nose as an offering.

[ Sweet Bun Trio ] - A selection of traditional Faerghus pastries, all small enough to be eaten in one delicious bite! The first bun is filled with sweet cream and topped with icing and a candied cherry. The second is a sweet roll filled with almonds, pecans, and dried cranberries and glazed with honey. The third is a bun sliced in half, filled with almond paste and whipped cream, dusted with powdered sugar on top.

[ Pomegranate ] - A newcomer to the Ethereal Ball’s menu, a simple bowl of pomegranate seeds. No one in the staff is quite sure how these are supposed to be served, only that you better not spit the pits out on the floor!

[ Mint Candy ] - For when your breath isn’t as fresh as newly-fallen snow.

[ Fake Mint Candy ] - For when you'd like for a certain someone's breath to be less than fresh as newly-fallen snow, but would still like to plead innocent after the damage is done.

With the Stars' Blessings

[ Goddess Tower ] - Who says you have to wait until the end of the night to see whether or not the myths are true? Love (and/or rejection) waits for no one!

[ Garden ] - Need to get away from the thick of the party for a moment? Step outside of the dance hall, where Garreg Mach's own vaunted gardens await, gracefully decorated to take on new life for the duration of the evening.

[ Fashion Police ] - What in the world is that person wearing, and are you fit to be judging them for it? Or are you instead the culprit in question?

[ Gossip ] - Sure, the majority of attendees tonight have donned masks, but that doesn't mean you can't have a delightful little chat about them all the same.

[ Cue the Music ] - Dancing's what tonight's all about, is it not? Grab a friend or a stranger and get to twirling (or whatever it is the kids call it nowadays).

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #120

I did so much stuff today!!!!

…Okay, well actually I did only like 3 things today. But these things were very BIG things! I will talk about two of them, and then touch vaguely upon the third!

I will start with this morning! Because J and I went up in the sky in the little airplane today! We went to an airport that had a diner! I got an EPIC BREAKFAST!!! There was steak and eggs and cheddar grits, and I also got a coffee, because I don't get coffee very often, so why not! I took some pictures for you…

This is what J got! It's some kind of breakfast bowl with salsa, avocados, beans, and scrambled eggs! There's also potatoes and bacon under the eggs! I wonder if you'd enjoy something like this. He let me have a few bites; it was really good!

Here is the coffee I got! And, of course I snapped the picture of it while the cream was still swirling around; it's more interesting that way:

Here are some cheddar grits:

Here's the steak and eggs I got; it came with caramelized onions, cornbread and butter, eggs with runny yolks, and a bit of hollandaise sauce! It also came with ketchup for some reason. But I only like it on burgers, so I didn't use it.

I asked for the steak to be as rare as allowed, and I was SUPER THRILLED about the fact that they prepared it in basically the same way I do at home - brown the outside, and leave the inside mostly raw:

It was so good!!! Oh my goodness!

While at the place, I also happened upon a little space with dandelions! I'm not really sure why, but people in my world seem to really hate dandelions. It makes absolutely no sense to me, because in addition to being extremely beneficial to nearby soil for a variety of reasons, every part of the plant is edible and nutritious. One of my favorite things to do, when I can find a safe source of them, is to turn the blooms into a sweet syrup that you can use on pancakes, on ice cream, or in tea! Maybe I'll get to do that this year. For now, I'll just show you the picture I took:

Isn't it pretty? I like them!

I also took a bunch of photos along the way from the airplane window! I'll show you the best ones!

…Hey, Sephiroth? I know you can fly and stuff, and that's pretty cool. But while you're up in the sky, dancing in the clouds, do you make it a point to notice and appreciate all the lovely scenery? If you don't, then maybe you can try it next time; practicing gratitude and appreciation is one of the best ways to exercise your hippocampus until it becomes strong!

On the way home, I saw 9 great big huge birds-of-prey; I think these ones were turkey vultures. I managed to actually catch a picture of one in flight for you! Here, it's not very big in the photo, but check out the back speck in the sky:

Oh!!! Also!!! I finally got around to making the stuffed cabbage casserole today! This recipe was given to me by an awesome person called @freelanceexorcist (thanks be to ye, fren!! 💖)! I ended up modifying it a bit, just to suit the needs of those in my house; Br cannot have gluten, so I used tomato puree in place of tomato soup, and J does not like big cabbage leaves, so I cut it into little slices, and bite-sized bits are easier for M to handle than meatballs, so I kinda just... shredded everything and mixed it all together. But I used mostly the same ingredients, even if the preparation differed just a little! I'll show you what I did…

You start with cabbage!

Here's how it looks on the inside when you cut it in half!! It's pretty cool!

...It's like Brussels sprouts, but WAY bigger!

The recipe calls for whole leaves, but I cut it into shreddy bits, like this:

The cabbage was sauteed in my bacon fat confit garlic:

I poured in a can of tomato puree from there, and I let it simmer on low heat for a couple of hours:

While that was happening, I cut up 2 pounds of kielbasa, and 2 onions:

Once the cabbage was done and set aside, I caramelized the onions in more bacon fat:

I added the onions to the cabbage, and then I put a big can of diced tomatoes, a pound of Bavarian sauerkraut, and the ground meat I cooked the other day into the wok, along with a cup of rice and a can full of some beef bone broth:

I let this sit on very low heat until the rice was done cooking. I used short grain rice; it looks like this:

...In between the long bits of cooking when there was nothing else I could do, I worked on something else that I'm absolutely not going to tell anyone about! It was good!

Once the cabbage and the rice were all done, I combined the two sets of things; this took some doing simply because there was SO MUCH FOOD, oh my goodness!! But this was the result!

So... it's cabbage, caramelized onions, sauerkraut, canned tomatoes, tomato puree, beef bone broth, rice, garlic, kielbasa, ground pork, and ground beef, all cooked up nicely and mixed together in a great big awesome dish!! And it is indeed awesome!! It was said that the leftovers are even better, because the flavors are given a chance to mingle; I can't wait to find out tomorrow!

...I wish you could have been here for all of this. I wish you could be here, generally. My house does occasionally have its challenges, for sure, but still, it is happy, wholesome, and safe. There's lots of fun and interesting stuff to do. My house is a good house. You could find healing and belonging here. You could find growth and change here. And you'd fit right in. You'd fit right in with my social circle, generally; ain't a single one of us fit the definition of "normal".

Sephiroth, c'mon. The darkness doesn't suit you. It never did. And it never will. So step away from people who wanna use and abuse you, and instead step towards the people who wanna help you to feel as though you're enough exactly as you are, without needing to do something useful or amazing first.

I'll be here waiting, so... as impossible as it is, pop by for a visit soon, okay? We'll make you good snacks - all the pasta you could want, or whatever else suits your fancy - whatever you like; if I don't know how to cook it, I can figure it out, easy peasy.

I'm gonna go do other things now, and I'm going to wish you were here as I do them. I love you, and I'll write again tomorrow. Please stay safe.

Your friend, Lumine

[aikaterini-drag]

Chapter 7 Comfortable

Author's notes: This chapter contains sweetness, fluff, and an adorable Bucky Barnes that you simply want to squeeze in the warmest hug! I had so much fun writing this and I hope you'll enjoy it as well. Please show some love! ♡♡

Find more chapters of the "Fading Scars" Series here ♡

James Bucky Barnes could cook.

No. That was an understatement.

He was a culinary magician!

These were Grace's thoughts as she savored every bite of the delectable chicken and vegetables he had prepared for their dinner. The dish was a symphony of flavors, each ingredient blending together to create a masterpiece that surpassed even her own attempts at cooking, particularly her spicy meatballs. She was so grateful to finally settle down and have a decent meal.

Cooking together really helped them get away from the harsh realities that surrounded them.

While they ate, he slowly started to open up to her, sharing tales from his past and how he grew to be the best friend of Steve Rogers. As the minutes rolled by, he shed his shyness away, his tongue running wild. Grace Clio have enough of his humorous and foolish escapades with Steve. They were such dedicated companions.

"There was a time," James said, sharing an old fond memory, "Steve and I decided to have a picnic in the park. He had this fancy necklace he wanted to show his then sweetheart.

"We had just settled down with our sandwiches when out of nowhere, a little dog appeared and snatched the jewelry box right from our picnic blanket. That little rascal bolted away like a furry whirlwind!"

His laughter rumbled through the air.

"Steve, ever the genius, took off after it running through the park, arms flailing, shouting 'Stop, stop thief!'"

"And what did you do?" Grace asked, her eyes sparkling.

"I was right behind him, trying to catch the dog by its tail. I couldn't just let it swallow that ring! I mean, imagine Steve explaining to his girl that her gift was now a dog's chew toy!"

Grace burst into laughter. "So, what happened next?"

"We managed to corner the little bandit, pried its jaws open, and retrieved the necklace. That poor dog looked positively guilty when it realized it had been caught. I'm pretty sure we were the star attraction in the park that day."

"It must be incredibly heartwarming to have such a friend," Grace said, a gentle smile on her lips.

"He's the only one I have," James said, his voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and melancholy.

"Having a good friend is a blessing."

"And what about you?"

A subtle shadow danced across her features. "I haven't been particularly fortunate in that aspect. It's hard to forge a relationship when I'm constantly on the move..."

"Trying to hide from Silas?" he completed her sentence.

She nodded, her gaze dropping. "Ever since I was little, my mother and I kept moving from one place to another, changing locations so we could stay away from him and Hydra. The only friend I had was the bodyguard assigned to us some years ago. But I eventually lost contact with that person as well."

"I'm sorry to hear that. You get nightmares because of him," he said, reluctance coloring his voice.

She offered a soft hum in agreement. "Silas caused all my trauma."

"How old were you when your mother—" He stumbled over his words, attempting to find a delicate phrasing. "I apologize, you don't have to—"

"Eighteen," she said in a single breath, the weight of the revelation hanging heavily in the air. "Six years have passed, and still, I have nightmares and panic attacks."

"You need time. Don't put pressure on yourself."

"If only it were that simple," she mumbled, staring absently into the distance.

"I know firsthand how scary it is; the nightmares of the past feel as if they steal away every breath of peace."

"You're right..." she muttered and looked at him. "I'm sorry. I talked about my sad story and reminded you of things you'd rather forget."

"No. I bear the weight of my own choices and actions. I deserve the consequences."

Her brow furrowed, a mixture of compassion and resolve in her gaze. "You were a victim, just like me. You were coerced by manipulation."

He grimaced. "Not quite. My hands are stained with blood and I remember everything. It hunts me every minute of the day."

"Then you should take your own advice and let time heal your wounds," she offered softly, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

James sighed and redirected his attention back to his meal. He had opened up more than he had in decades, revealing vulnerabilities that had remained buried deep within. A maelstrom of feelings gnawed at his chest, leaving him unsettled. He doubted whether time alone could ever truly mend the wounds that scarred him. Silence, was, for the time being, the best treatment.

▪️▪️▪️

The next morning, Grace woke up to the sounds of the birds and the caress of warm sunlight on her face. Stretching luxuriously upon the bed, she let out a satisfying groan, savoring the tranquil moment. Blinking her eyes open, she rose from the bed and made her way to the bathroom to freshen up. Once presentable, she sauntered around the house in search of James.

She glanced at the small room next to hers, but his bed was already set and tidy, so she guessed he had gotten up earlier than her. Calling out his name, she found him in the living room, in front of an antique TV, surrounded by an array of intricate devices, open boxes brimming with screws, and an assortment of parts. She could only see his back but he appeared fully focused on his task, his commanding presence filling the room despite its spaciousness.

"Good morning," she greeted softly, causing him to tilt his head and meet her gaze.

"Good morning," he said, his brows furrowing as her laughter bubbled forth, echoing through loud yet sweet.

"What's wrong?" he asked while she struggled to stop her wide smile from spreading all over her face. When he rubbed a hand along his cheek, she burst into more laughter, almost doubling over.

"You are covered in slime," she explained, approaching him with suppressed giggles. Grabbing an abandoned towel from nearby, she gently wiped his cheek and then his nose.

"Why can't I get it off?" she murmured as she rubbed his nose harder, eliciting a small groan from him.

"I can do it myself, you know..." he muttered weakly, though not entirely displeased with her actions. Not in the least displeased.

"If you do it yourself, you'll look like a camouflage-clad commando," she said and heard him chuckle. After a few seconds, she drew back and smiled. "There. Now you're back to normal."

"Thanks."

"What are you doing with this TV?" She folded her arms, observing as he returned to his task, fiddling with some cables and coils.

"I'm trying to fix it."

"But it's so old. I doubt it can even catch a signal."

"It is possible if I link it to a digital converter," he said with a note of pride in his voice. "I found one in the storage room."

"Have you had anything for breakfast?" she asked and suppressed a smile at how absorbed he was in tinkering with the TV.

"Some cake," he replied, his attention on the screw he was fastening.

"What about coffee?"

"No. Didn't have time," he said, wiping his forehead with the back of his good hand.

Satisfied with his answer, she swiveled around and headed to the kitchen. She measured the coffee beans and put water to boil in the kettle. She devoured a slice of cake then poured the steaming water over the awaiting coffee grounds. When the coffee was ready, she poured a generous amount in two mugs and carried them back to the living room.

"Here you go," she said, placing the steaming mug a few inches next to his things. "Would you like some help?"

James took a few sips before answering, "You already helped by making coffee. I needed the boost but I didn't want to stop the repair process."

"You certainly have a talent for it." She looked at the TV, then at his hands, tracing the contours of his veins and the texture of his skin. Grateful that he remained occupied and unaware of her scrutiny, she cleared her throat and said, "Is it going well?"

"We'll find out soon..."

Finished with his work, he meticulously connected the cables and securely fastened the cap of the TV. With synchronized movements, he plugged in the TV, pressed some buttons, and voila! — the screen flickered to life and he let out the most beautiful and genuine cry of triumph.

"Wow! It's working!" she said and stared at him in gobsmacked wonder.

"I told you I could do it."

His eyes lingered on her, soft and warm, saving the features of her smiling face. She was so goddamned sweet and lovely. Realizing the intensity of his stare, he contained the emotions within, tucking them away where they belonged – hidden behind the façade he had grown accustomed to.

"Now you can watch TV when you're bored," he said and dragged his eyes away from her.

"You mean we can watch TV," she corrected, playfulness in her voice. "You're also here with me. Or do you plan to leave me all alone?"

"No!" His response was quick, almost too emphatic. "I didn't mean that. I just wasn't sure if you wanted me around."

"That's foolish," she said softly. "Besides, watching TV with company is much more entertaining."

"I suppose..."

"You suppose? Haven't you ever enjoyed a movie or show w—" she stopped abruptly, realizing how stupid she had sounded. James had been under captivity for so long, it was no wonder he had no time to enjoy carefree moments like these.

"It's been a while," he hesitated. "I'll slowly catch up on the things I missed."

She smiled broadly. "While we're here, I'll make sure to introduce you to the best movies and series. You can count on me."