#wouldn't trade him or his elbows for the world

[pretty-red-garnet]

Pumpkins and Candy

Daryl Dixon x fem! Reader • Commonwealth • Fluff

Happy Halloween!

It was Halloween in the Commonwealth. Your eyes danced between all the different venders handing out treats, each one sweeter than the last. The day was warm, the sun cascading over the large street festival. People crowded the streets, kids in costumes followed by their parents.

You never imagined you'd be celebrating Halloween after the end of the world.

You moved your gaze to instead look at Daryl, sweetly playing and talking with RJ. You begin to smile without even meaning to. The sight was unbelievably adorable, you'd even say domestic. Daryl smiling and tossing an apple on a string for little RJ to catch.

Daryl with the kids was always something you'd watched with great adoration. It seemed kids were just drawn to him, and he never minded. He was so good with them. In fact, it was watching Daryl with little Jude that made you realize you were in love with the man.

It was after Rick died, after you'd known him for about a year. Daryl was gone more often than not then, but he always made sure to be there for his niece and nephew. Always hugging and holding them tight first thing when he arrived back to Alexandria for trading.

Judith was young, and jumped into his arms so fast he almost fell back. He smiled so brightly, so genuinely. Your heart fell to your stomach so fast it made you sick. You were down bad, and it wasn't going away any time soon.

     And now that you and him were neighbors in the same shitty building, you were closer than ever. Having dinner together most nights when he was too tired to cook, watching the kids when he was busy, spending most of your free time together. You were both pretty much attached at the hip. You'd even call him your best friend. He was the one person you knew you could count on for anything.

     "You are so smitten," Carol says, breaking you out of your stupor with a startle. You roll your eyes and giggle a little, although it sounds more awkward and tense than you intended.

     "Am not." Her elbow meets your ribs and she grins at you.

     "Smitten as a kitten." You purse your lips at her to stop your smirk, although it breaks through.

     "You're ridiculous," you say, crossing your arms and turning away from her slightly to return your eyes to Daryl. "Aren't you supposed to be handing out cookies or something? Or do you get paid to bother me?"

     Carol laughs and shakes her head. She watches as you— not so discretely— gawk at Daryl. She lets out a deep sigh.

     "Why don't you just tell him?" She asks.

     "Tell him what?" You retort, playing dumb and not meeting her gaze.

     "That you're in love with him!"

     "Shhh!" Your eyes glance around almost comically, making sure no one hears the woman. "I am not!"

"If you weren't, you wouldn't care if anyone heard." She rises an eyebrow, making you scowl and scoff at her. Carol was the type of person that can always read others. She was always watching, she knew how everyone thought. It was pretty scary.

"I didn't want Daryl to hear!"

"Didn't want me to hear what?" Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Daryl stands beside you, watching you with a curious expression. Your mouth opens, then closes. You struggle to come out with a response, mind totally blank.

"Uh," you mumble. "Nothing." Daryl furrows his brows, regarding you with a look somewhere between concerned and straight up confused.

"I guess the secret is out, Y/N," Carol says, melodramatically with a shrug. "You should just tell him."

Your face blanches, your mouth continues to gasp like a fish. Daryl looks even more confused now, looking between you and Carol.

"That you're cooking Daryl's favorite meal tonight!" Carol says, excitedly. You let out a breath. While now you have to make dinner instead of relaxing at home like you'd planned, at least it was a save. Somewhat.

"You don't gotta do that," Daryl says, looking at you with that adorably concerned expression he always has when someone tries doing anything for him. His brow pinched and teeth biting the inside of his cheek.

"She wants to, Daryl," Carol says, placing her hands on her hips. You look from Daryl to Carol, feeling strange and helpless that Carol was speaking on your behalf with you right there. It was a little nice though, since the near-revelation of your romantic feelings for Daryl was still making your mind swim.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," you finally stumble out, awkwardly and with a stutter. "Sorry to spoil it."

"Don't gotta be sorry, I shouldn't have listened in," he says with a shrug and a little half smile that made your heart pound. "We'll go to yours tonight then?"

     "Actually!" Carol buts in again. "I'll take Judith and RJ trick or treating. It could be just you two tonight." Carol's smile is a weird combination of scary and Betty Crocker. She's setting up a date.

     "You sure?" Daryl asks, only to be met with Carol's enthusiastic nod. "Alright, sure. I better get back to the kids." Daryl steps away and once he's out of sight, you immediately wack Carol on the shoulder.

     "What?!" Carol yelps. "You should be thanking me."

     "Thanking you?" You ask, incredulously. "That was so embarrassing."

     "I got you a date, Y/N. Yes, thank me."

Hours later, and dinner is done. Your apartment is warm and humid from the stove, but the delicious smell of seared meat makes the heat bearable. Your stir fry of squirrel meat and rice sit on the counter, awaiting Daryl's visit. You aren't quite sure if the stir fry was Daryl's favorite meal, but he did mention he liked it best of your cooking.

He's a little late. He was supposed to come by yours right after the Halloween masquerade party, but he still hasn't shown. You sit at your table, picking at your fingernails and tapping your foot. Your eyes keep glancing over at your clock on the wall and you sigh at every passing minute.

You know your destress is a little dramatic. You usually wouldn't be this anxious, but Carol's label of a 'date' rattling around in your brain made tonight feel different. Besides, Daryl is a busy man.

He worked all day, he could be tired. Maybe he forgot? Although it did seem out of character for Daryl to just not show up, he wasn't the type to stand people up.

Your worry is quickly cut short by three quick knocks at the door. You smile and quickly make your way to the door, swinging it open.

"Hey," you greet, moving aside for him to enter.

"Hey," he answers, pointing at the little bucket of candy you have beside your door propped up by two pumpkins. There's a little 'take one' sign that you hand painted accompanying it. "I know I ain't a kid, can I have one anyway?"

"Sure, obey the sign," you say, teasingly smiling at him. He scoffs a little, digging his hand in the bowl and pulling out two candies. You gasp, placing a hand on your chest and looking at Daryl with a dramatic expression on your face. "How could you?"

A smirk takes over Daryl's face before he covers it with another scoff, shaking his head. He pushes you aside to enter your warm apartment, immediately pulling at the neck of his long sleeved shirt.

"Ones for you, dumbass," Daryl says before he smacks your shoulder with a candy. You take it immediately to unwrap it and pop it into your mouth. It was your favorite candy that the little shop in the middle of town makes, and it warms your heart that Daryl remembered which is your favorite.

     "Come on, dinners ready." Daryl follows you into the kitchen.

     "Already?" He asks, grabbing his plate that you already made.

     "You're late, Dixon." Daryl grimaces a little, a quiet groan leaving his lips.

     "Sorry, shit went down at the party." You smile and wave your hand in a dismissing manner.

"I'm just teasing you." You and Daryl sit down at your small, round kitchen table. You both eat quietly, Daryl scarfing down his meal like a man starved. Luckily, most are out on the town celebrating Halloween, so the building is quieter than usual. Celebrating. That truly is surreal.

"What're you thinking 'bout?" Daryl asks, having seen the thoughtful look on your face.

"I just never thought I'd ever see Halloween again I guess." You shrug and smile lightly. "I used to love it when I was a kid. Was my favorite."

"Never celebrated it," Daryl mumbles, almost embarrassed. Your eyebrows fly up in surprise.

"No? Not even trick or treating?"

"Nah, no one gave candy. Lotta assholes in my neighborhood," Daryl answers, piling the last bit of rice and meat on his fork. You don't answer and Daryl looks up, shrugging when he sees your saddened expression. "S'fine. Can eat all of Jude and RJ's candy now."

"You've at least carved pumpkins, right?" Daryl looks down, not wanting to sadden you even further with his answer you assume.

You knew Daryl didn't have the best childhood, that his dad was a dick. But you looked back so fondly at Halloween, and it upsets you that Daryl didn't. It made your chest hurt that he didn't have happy memories of dressing up, or getting candy and rushing home to see the goods.

     You look down to your lap for a moment, before getting an idea. You shoot up out of your chair, ignoring Daryl's inquiring gaze. You rush out of your front door and stoop to the ground, grabbing the candy bucket up from the pumpkins and dropping it to the ground. You hoist up the two—rather large— pumpkins before lugging them to the kitchen table, making sure the kick the door shut first.

     Daryl is now awkwardly standing at your table, already having placed your dishes in the sink. He still has that cute, confused look on his face, but when he sees the pumpkins, it dawns on him and his lips quirk up in a smile. You smile back, a huge and bright grin that makes Daryl's face light up even more.

     You're about to grab the knives before another thought hits you, and you jog out of the kitchen to the front door once again. You scoop up the candy bucket, flipping off the light outside your door and bringing that too to the kitchen.

     "Ain't that for the kids?" Daryl asks, jutting his chin towards the candy. He leans against the counter with a teasing twinkle in his eye as he watches you set everything up.

     "Kids are brats anyway, and I paid for it so I can do whatever I want." Daryl laughs at that, just a huff of air escaping his chest. Basically cracking up for Daryl.

     Not five minutes later, both of you are sitting at the table forearm deep in pumpkin guts. The table rattles and shakes with the vigorous scraping of the pumpkin, an attempt to thin the inside of the thick walls.

     Daryl's tongue is sticking out of his mouth in concentration, and you resort by not looking at him because if you do, you're sure you'll pass out from the flip flopping of your stomach. He keeps glancing at you and your pumpkin, his eyes narrow and focused, to confirm he's doing the right thing.

Once both pumpkins are empty and clean, you get a baking sheet ready and begin to separate the pumpkin guts from the seeds. You place them all evenly and sprinkle a good amount of salt on them. All the while, Daryl watches.

     "You like baked pumpkin seeds?"

     "Never had 'em," Daryl responses with a shrug. You pop them in the oven and grab two knives, handing one to Daryl.

     "Now the fun part."

     It doesn't take long for both pumpkins to be carved up, even with the occasional pauses for bites of candy. Daryl is rougher with his knife than you, sticking the knife in and dragging the blade harshly. He does this with great intensity and focus, however, leaning back and moving the pumpkin to look at it from all angles.

     You, on the other hand, are much lighter handed. Precisely moving your knife around the orange vegetable to make it perfect. Your hands trained and careful from years of carving.

     You and Daryl place your carving tools down around the same time. You turn your pumpkin around to show it off, a big grin covering your face. Daryl smiles lightly looking at your jack o lantern, a large toothy grin with big eyes. It looks almost perfect, directly in the middle of the pumpkin with clean cuts. Daryl suddenly looks embarrassed.

     "Mine ain't good," he says lowly, scratching a nonexistent itch at the back of his scalp.

     "I'm sure it's perfect! Turn it around," you assure, persuading him to show you his carved pumpkin. He glances at you for a moment, biting his lip before he concedes and turns his pumpkin around.

     Daryl's jack o lantern isn't as cleanly done. His doesn't look happy like yours, lips placed in a snarl that is a little crooked on one side. The eyes are off center and one is a little bigger than the other. Despite the quirks, it's perfect in your eyes. Almost as adorable as Daryl's bashful expression.

     "It's so cute!" You exclaim, and Daryl shrugs, looking down at his hands tangling together. "I think it's perfect."

     "Whatever you say," Daryl says, a huff of air escapes his lips. He finally looks up from his hands and sees your face, smirking when he does. You frown.

"What?" You ask, self consciously. Daryl shakes his head, smiling even larger at your expression.

"You got a little somethin'," Daryl says, motioning with his finger at his own face. You touch your face briefly, trying to feel what he was motioning to. Before you could get whatever it was off your face, Daryl's fingers replace yours.

     His fingers, calloused by years of hard labor, are surprisingly gentle at getting the mess of your cheek. He wipes off the sticky residue, showing you the stringy pumpkin guts before chucking it at the table. But even after, his fingers slowly and hesitantly return to your cheek, softly caressing the flushed skin.

     It's like he was drawn to you and he can't help it. Two magnets pulled together against either of your wills. You're positive you can't pull away, even if you wanted to. Both stuck in this position, with Daryl slouched in his chair to lean towards you, and you ridged and stick staring at his face.

His face, which you've carefully studied plenty of times, had never seemed so soft. The rugged scar down the center of his eye and cheek at great contrast to his loving expression. He's nibbling at the inside of his cheek, and his eyes cast nervously from your eyes to his hand, which seems to be moving on its own accord.

Before long, you're kissing him. You don't really know who kissed who, just that one second Daryl was staring at you with those pretty blue eyes of his, and the next your lips were on his.

The kitchen table digs into your ribs because of the angle, both you and Daryl leaning forward in your chairs to get to each other. You don't mind, the discomfort barely even registering in your brain. All you can think of is Daryl, and his hand still resting on your cheek and how his lips are chapped, but somehow still soft. How you've been thinking about this for so long, and you can't believe that Daryl is actually kissing you right now.

Unable to take the uncomfortable angle any longer, you stand just slightly without removing your lips from Daryl's. You shuffle closer to him, leaning down and raising your knee to rest on the chair between Daryl's legs. Daryl leans back to accommodate you, and his hand drops from your cheek to grab your waist, pulling your body even closer to his. Your hands meet his shoulders to steady yourself, and you kiss him harder.

     Daryl's fingers tremble, but they slowly slide under your shirt. Your quiet groan is muffled by Daryl's lips, but he heard— or felt— anyway, telling from the smile that curves his lips. You only part for hurried pants of air, before he chases your mouth again. It's a game of push and pull that neither of you want to ever end. It might've never ended, only if you never put those pumpkin seeds in the oven.

     The loud, shrill noise from the oven beeping is a great difference from the quiet passion that was just taking place. You and Daryl startle away from each other. Your hands are still on his shoulders and his fingers still squeeze at your hips, but you're both looking towards the interrupting oven.

     You slowly turn your gaze back to Daryl. He's still looking at the oven, with a anxious look on his flushed face. His hair is messy from your wandering fingers, and his eyebrows are low from what you could only assume is embarrassment. You smile and tap his cheek, and Daryl turns to look at you with uneasy eyes.

     "Ready for those pumpkin seeds?" You ask, smoothing down his hair. His face relaxes at the sweet gesture, like he thought you'd be upset or something for kissing. Daryl can be silly sometimes.

     He nods and returns your smile, and you can't help but place one more hesitant and quick peck to his mouth. He chases you when you pull away, and you giggle. You allow yourself to card your fingers through his wavy hair one last time before you pull away from him completely.

     You pull out your roasted pumpkin seeds and lay the sheet down on the cooling rack. You admire the perfectly done seeds and look back at Daryl to share the feeling. His ears and cheeks are still red, and he has a small bashful grin on his face. Your lips quirk up on their own accord.

     Maybe Daryl didn't have great memories of Halloween to look back on, but you hope you gave him at least one he won't forget.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x you #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon fluff #halloween

[psychokinetic-ectoplasm]

Merry Christmas

(Ray x Female Reader)

(I promise the gif is relevant 😅)

Here's a little Christmas fic involving Ray and his family on Christmas morning. Merry Christmas, everyone!

Also here on Ao3

SFW, under the cut for length

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet for what morning it was, but it wouldn't stay that way. Which is why you and Ray were trying to get as much sleep as you possibly could until the inevitable.

Which came at 9:30 on the dot with the shouting of “Mom! Dad! Santa's been here!” followed by a tackle rivaling that of a linebacker. Ray grunted upon the impact of his seven-year-old son.

“Wish Santa would have gifted us another five minutes,” Ray grumbled. He then patted Danny's back. “Go on and get your sister. We'll be there in a minute.”

“Okay!” Danny exclaimed, taking off out of the room.

“Don't you wish we had that much energy?” you asked, snuggling closer to Ray, basking in his warmth for a little longer. “You know he's been awake since at least seven.”

“What time is it?” Ray asked, rubbing a hand across his face.

 You lifted your head to look at the clock. “9:30. So we only got about five hours of sleep.”

He sighed. “I can't help that it took so long to put that playhouse together.”

You kissed his jaw. “It'll be worth it. Katie will love it.”

“Mm, yeah…” He then kissed your forehead. “Alright, it's showtime. I'll go get the camera.”

You rolled off of him and watched him get up, admiring how his sleep pants fit him before following. Ray yawned and shuffled out of the bedroom, running a hand through his hair as you hurried into the living room. A few seconds later, you heard the sound of running feet followed by gasps of delight as Danny and Katie beheld their presents.

Ray appeared at your elbow, video camera in hand, recording their reactions. The pair of you exchanged smiles at your kids' elation. Katie immediately went up to the playhouse while Danny made a beeline for the leftover milk and cookies, along with the note they'd left for Santa.

“Santa wrote back!” he exclaimed, hurrying over to show you and Ray.

You smiled down at the note, the top half written by Danny and the lower half written by Santa—Ray's neatest hand.

“What did he say?” you asked.

“It says: Dear Danny and Katie. Thank you so much for the milk and cookies! I made sure to leave you some cookies this time for the both of you to enjoy when you open your presents. As always, you've been such good kids this year! Have a very merry Christmas! Love, Santa.”

Danny immediately returned to the plate with two cookies left on it, grabbing one for himself and handing the other to Katie.

“Good idea on that,” Ray murmured to you.

“It's how my parents used to do it. It was always a treat to have a cookie on Christmas morning.”

The gift unwrapping went on for nearly twenty minutes, as each gift unwrapped warranted immediate play for a few minutes before curiosity got the better of Danny and Katie. You and Ray watched with smiles as Danny occasionally stopped with his own presents to help Katie open one of hers.

Katie then got to one of her surprise gifts, one Ray had been anxious about. But the delighted gasp as she tore the paper away made Ray visibly relax.

“A train set!” she exclaimed. She looked up at Ray. “Look, Daddy, a train set! Just like the one we saw at the store!”

Ray beamed. “I guess Santa realized you'd probably like it.”

Katie looked back at the box, still smiling ear to ear. “I love it!”

Danny knelt next to Katie. “Come on, open it!”

You affectionately squeezed Ray's arm. “See? I told you you had nothing to worry about.”

“I'm just happy my childhood love of trains passed on to one of them. I mean, both of them dressing up as Ghostbusters for Halloween is cute and all, and I wouldn't trade that for the world, but that was my job. This is something a kid can really enjoy.”

Between the two of them, Katie and Danny already had half the track laid out. Katie was holding the train, flipping the little switch on the side, but nothing was happening.

“Daddy, I can't get it to work.”

“Here, sweetie, let me see,” Ray said, handing the camera off to you and moving to sit on the floor with them.

Katie crawled into Ray's lap and watched intently as he worked to get the train running. Danny was hanging over Ray's shoulder, also watching. You took in the scene with a warm smile on your face. This was bliss. This was everything you wanted and more.

Ray seemed to sense you watching and looked up, giving you that smile of his that you loved so much, the one he reserved only for you. And now you had it caught on camera. All of them together… 

Your wonderful family…

***

About an hour later, Ray stood at the sink in the kitchen, washing the mug and plate they'd used for the milk and cookies, when he felt you come up behind him, pressing up against his back, your hands on his ass, and your lips on his neck.

“And here's my Christmas present,” you murmured against his neck, smiling and giving his ass a squeeze. “Seriously, Ray, have I told you how damn good you look in these sleep pants?”

Ray chuckled. “A few times, but I don't mind hearing it again.” He dried his hands and turned to face you, wrapping his arms securely around you. “I guess I should thank the person who gave me these. It's almost like she knew exactly what to get me.”

“Mm, she must have very good taste. I shouldn't be jealous, should I?”

“I am rather in love with her… And she's been my best friend for years. I can't imagine my life without her.”

It pleased him that he still had the ability to make you blush. “Ray…”

He grinned and kissed your cheek. “She's the love of my life.” He kissed your other cheek. “And my wife.” He now pecked your lips. “And the mother of our two beautiful children.”

“Then maybe you should be jealous, too,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I'm married to the most wonderful man, husband, and father… He's been my best friend for years, too, and we'll be best friends for years and years to come. I'm not ever going to let him go.”

Ray touched his nose to yours, feeling tears prick his eyes. “He's never going to let you go either.”

With that, he sealed his lips over yours, kissing you soundly and with such passion and love that he hoped it made your knees weak. He hoped to still have that effect on you as well.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips after a moment.

“I love you, too, Raymond,” you sighed, obviously in love.

He just started to kiss you again when a chorus of “ew’s” sounded from the doorway. You both looked over to see Danny and Katie standing there, watching you two.

“I thought you two were getting ready to go to Uncle Pete's and Aunt Dana's,” Ray said. 

The kids giggled and ran away. Ray shook his head, looking back at you, his hand coming to rest on your still-flat lower abdomen.

“You sure we're ready for another one?”

“We better be because it's happening.”

He nodded, smiling and leaning his forehead against yours. “I know, and I can't wait. I never realized just how fulfilling having a family could be until I met you. I know this may sound sappy, but… You and the kids? The best and only gifts I ever want.”

“Oh, Ray…” you whispered, getting misty-eyed. “You mean that?”

He lifted a hand to caress your cheek. “Of course I do. You know that.”

“Just like you know, you and the kids are the best and only gifts I ever want.” You kissed him softly. “I love you so much, Ray. You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted and more. Merry Christmas.”

He grinned, nuzzling your nose with his. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

***

“Alright, troops! Line up for inspection!”

You walked into the hallway, burdened down with everyone’s coats, and smiled when you saw Ray adjusting Danny’s tie. Danny was nearly leaning back with how straight he was standing.

“There you go,” Ray said. “And at least keep the tie on through lunch. After that, give it to your mom or me so we don’t lose it like last year at Uncle Egon’s.”

“But Aunt Janine found it over the summer!”

Ray nodded. “Yes. In the freezer. Behind what was left of the stuffing.”

Danny barely suppressed his laughter. “I wonder how it got there?”

“I wonder. But it won’t happen this year, right?”

Danny nodded and took his coat you were handing him. Ray then knelt in front of Katie. 

“And is my little princess ready?” he asked.

Katie nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

He looked at the big bag she had sitting next to her and smiled. “And I see you have all of your presents with you that you want to show Oscar?”

“Except the playhouse. It was too big.”

Ray glanced up at you, exchanging smiles. “Well, we’ll invite Oscar over sometime soon to play; how about that?”

“Can Callie come, too?” Danny interjected.

“I’ll talk to Aunt Janine about it,” you said. “Now, come on, you two! Let’s go load up the car!”

Ray stood and took the proffered coat from you. “Winston said he and Tiyah will be here this year.”

“Oh, good! I missed them last year,” you replied.

“Also, Winston hinted that you won’t be the only one with a big announcement today…”

A grin overtook your features. “They’re expecting again!”

Ray nodded. “Yep. Due date’s around the same time as yours.”

You grabbed Ray’s arm. “You know what this means, don’t you? Joint birthday parties! Oh, I’m so excited for them! They’ll catch up to us at this rate…”

“Sweetheart,” Ray said, smiling and wrapping his arm around you to get your attention. “Why don’t we all make the announcements first before we start planning birthday parties?”

“I’m sorry… It’s this time of year! It makes me so… happy.”

His smile softened. “I know, and I’m glad it does. Here, I’ll help Katie with her coat, you go grab the food, and we’ll head out.”

You nodded and handed Ray the coat. “Right. First thing’s first.” 

You returned to the kitchen to grab the two dishes you were taking to lunch. You intended to carry them yourself, but Ray took one from you as you passed by him, tucking it under his arm and locking the front door behind you.

“That potato salad is one of my favorite things you make,” he said, nodding to the bowl you were holding.

“You know, sometimes I think you're just with me for my potato salad,” you commented, making a face at him.

Ray shook his head. “Not true. It's so much more than that.” He started to turn away, lifting up the dish he was holding. “It's for your corn casserole, too.”

You stared after him in mock indignation. “Raymond Stantz!”

He looked over his shoulder at you, grinning. “Mrs. Stantz?”

You walked up behind him, subtly grabbing his ass. “It's a good thing I love your ass,” you muttered only loud enough for him to hear.

“Sometimes I think you're just with me for my ass,” Ray lamented in a teasing tone.

“Came for your ass, stayed for your personality.”

He chuckled, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you to him. “Good answer.”

He kissed you again. It was so easy to get lost in his kisses, even after all this time.

“If we’re late, can I tell Uncle Pete it’s because you two couldn’t stop kissing?” Danny asked from the elevator.

“We won't be late!” Ray called, slipping his hand into yours and lacing your fingers together. He then smiled at you. “I'll make it up to you later.”

You grinned back. “I'm counting on it.”

#my writing #ray stantz #ghostbusters #ray stantz x reader #ray stantz x female reader #ghostbusters fanfiction

[tettatonin]

HEAVEN AND BACK (REUPLOAD) ︰ miyuki , eijun , furuya , haruichi

⠀⠀⠀⠀— their kinks and favorite things ♡

cws: 18+ NSFW MDNI. fem!reader. unprotected sex. MIYUKI: edging, implied overstimulation. EIJUN: blowjob, throat/face fucking, praise. FURUYA: fingering, toru being ambidextrous, slight size kink. HARUICHI: sub!haruichi, oral (f receiving), handjob, vibrator.

notes: just an old post i wanted to fix up while also finally and officially putting daiya on my blog <33 totally not bc im in another writing slump

MIYUKI KAZUYA

+ EDGING. OVERSTIMULATION. miyuki can give you everything you want and take it away from you as he pleases. the power trip of having you at his fingertips just really gets to him. he wants you to enjoy yourself, sure, but not without him getting a piece and absolutely ruining it for his own self pleasure.

miyuki doesn't have to tell you that he gets off watching you struggle, it's simple enough to understand just being with him. even when he won't admit such a thing to your face, expressing it in ways that would make you keen for him to get to the end of his foreplay. he'd be a liar if he said he didn't enjoy doing it to himself either, kissing your neck to keep his thoughts straight.

he moved his hips slowly, seething through his teeth at the tight, closing feeling of being seconds away from orgasm for the fifth time tonight. you were in the same boat with your bottom lip swollen from being bitten down on, pussy throbbing for release.

"had enough?" miyuki asks you with a slight grin, lifting his face out of the crook of your neck. "y'know i wanna fuck you just as much as you do, you just cum so easy on my cock."

you try and hold back a laugh but it slips, your boyfriend's expression dropping a bit. "sorry." you cover your mouth.

"oh, so its like that, huh?" he raises his eyebrows, sitting back up and holding you by the underside of your knees, locking your legs to your chest. "you want it like that?"

miyuki pounds into you hard, the bed creaking under the weight. though his pace wasn't bruising, still keeping that silent oath of edging himself and you, but he was hitting your sweet spot with every snap of his hips. and when your eyes screw shut and your mouth parts in a silent scream, he knows he's won.

"wait! kazu— ya," your words broke by the syllables with his thrusts. "fu— ck! please, don't stop!"

like hell i would, he thinks while adjusting his pace, switching to a quick and steady rhythm that has your eyelids fluttering shut.

you've been edged for far too long, your climax building up fast as miyuki bullied your sweet spot. his stomach tightened at your face that twisted in pleasure, cock throbbing inside you as the height of his climax matched yours before he rides out his high, or so you thought.

"aww, don't tap out yet, princess." he coos, the rhythm of his hips picking back up again. "you said 'don't stop', right?"

SAWAMURA EIJUN

+ BLOWJOBS. PRAISE. as much as eijun likes to take care of you, he loves being pampered. something about you sucking him off after a long week of training just sends him into a state he wouldn't trade for the world. you're so good to him with your body that he'd still reward you with praises that would make your stomach tighten.

eijun leaned back into the headboard, relaxing his body to enjoy the moment to its full extent. you were propped up on your elbows, laying on your stomach between his legs with your mouth sucking on half his length while your hand pumps at what can't fit.

your lips wrapped around the tip, teasing him a bit while his cheeks flushed a shade of pink. he swallowed a moan as you took in more of him, his hand instinctively covering his mouth.

you look up at his flushed expression with a smile, a satisfied hum vibrating around his dick just before you pull off with a pop.

"something wrong, eijun?" you ask, looking up at him with doe eyes as you stroke him, making sure to tightly part your middle and index finger at the tip.

he lets out a shaky breath, his reply caught in his throat and all that comes out is a strained noise.

"hm?" you lick up a pearl of precum off the tip, sucking on it gently while waiting for a reply.

he shakes his head. 

"n-no, 's nothing you just— fuck, you feel so good." he barely gets to finish his sentence when you take him all the way to the base without warning. "mouth's so good for me." he sighs.

with your lips tight around his girth and your hand massaging his balls, his own shameful whines cut him off every time he tried to speak. not to mention the occasional jerk of his hips that had you grasping firmly at his thighs from the tip hitting the back of your throat.

"deeper, please, baby." he pleads, tucking a bit of hair behind your ear to sugarcoat the request. "want more."

obediently, you took him all the way for the last time, stilling your motion when the tip touches your throat. eijun's lips were parted slightly, the bottom one red and a little swollen from being bitten down on as you looked up at him.

the taste of his precum made your throat itch but still you bob your head gently, a string of moans falling from his lips the more you moved.

"yes, yes! fuck— just like that." he said, hands reaching to grab the sides of your face, his fingers lacing through your hair. "more.. need more, please, you're doing so good."

eijun times the controlled bob of your head with the raise of his hips, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs with the continuous touch of his tip to your throat.

"fuck, hah, you're gonna make me cum." he pants, already on the edge of release.

your eyes started to sting with tears from the lack of air and drool started to dribble down your chin. you look up at him desperately but he returns it with a look that said 'just a little more'.

and with a stuttered moan, he blows his load down your throat. your nose touches the skin above his cock while you swallow everything he gives you, the contraction of your throat making him sob just before you pull off with a gasp for air.

FURUYA SATORU

+ FINGERING. WHEN YOU SAY HIS NAME. furuya's size often slips his mind, forgetting that he's much bigger than you and that his fingers alone he could press up to that sweet spot in you with ease and that two were enough to make you feel so full. still, he still pushes for that warmth your cunt envelops him in along with the chant of his name as you get closer and closer to release.

furuya's lips rest on the skin of your neck as you lay on your back. he was propped up beside you with two fingers slowly thrusting into you, digits parted slightly to stretch you out. with his other hand he brushes a bit of hair from your face, watching with low lidded eyes.

"you okay?" he asks in a low whisper, littering a few kisses along your jaw.

you nod at the query, an assuring hum turning into a pleasured sigh when he hits a sensitive spot.

he pulls his fingers out of you, stomach tightening at how wet you've gotten with just his fingers.

"just a little more." he whispers, continuing to kiss gently along your jaw.

"satoru, i think its enough." you told him, gripping at his wrist.

he shook his head before his lips met yours, moving to kiss you deeper. his tongue pushed into your mouth, a moan coming out of him when you sucked on it. it has you melting, grip loosening as he slides his fingers between your folds, using his sense of touch to feel how much more slick he can gather before pushing them back in.

"not yet," he says breathlessly, a thin string of saliva connecting his lip to yours for a moment before he breaks away to shift in his position again. "not done with you yet."

he gets up from his place beside you, taking off his boxers and sitting between your legs instead.

he lets out a sigh when the cool air touches the tip, precum coating the head from the minutes he'd spent fingering you, listening and feeling how your body reacted to him. and god was he hard, so painfully hard from not being able to touch himself while doing so.

"wait—" you gasp, slender digits entering and pressing right up against your sweet spot again.

furuya gave his focus to your cunt, mesmerized by the glistening sheen and the sounds of you echoing throughout the room. his thought process felt hazy and fucking you had almost slipped his mind as he wrapped his left hand around his cock, already pumping to the bruising pace he was fingering you in.

"f-fuck, shit," he seethes as his eyelids suddenly start to weigh like iron from the pleasure, but he keeps them open for you. low lidded and clouded with lust.

"satoru, please. don't wanna cum yet."

not yet. not yet. he thinks, panting too hard and too engulfed in pleasure to tell you.

he could only feel the warmth of your walls around him, senses overflowing with impatience as he curls his fingers on one hand and tightens his grip with the other, giving special attention to the spot that makes you tighten. and when your walls clench around him one last time, he pulls you in close, hands wet with precum and slick but you could care less as your arms rest above your head.

furuya hovers over you, broad shoulders casting a shadow over your frame from the setting 4 o'clock sun for a moment before he rests on his forearms. the view from another perspective makes it look like he was trapping you under him from how big he was as the tip lines with your entrance, his hips move to push it in and you both gasp at the feeling. he rests his head in the crook of your neck when he builds up a steady rhythm, muffling his breathy moans against your skin but you can hear him so clearly while his hands try to find yours.

"so good," he sighs, his fingers loosely lacing with yours once he finds you. "can you— can you say my name? please?"

the hold he has on your hands anchors him, the curl of your fingers to his keeping him from slipping too far into self indulgence like before.

"satoru... faster." you moan, his pace changing at your command and stuffing you close to the hilt with quick, shallow thrusts. "fuck, you feel so good."

his stomach tightens at the praise. "gonna— gonna cum," he pants, kissing your neck to keep him from moaning too loud. "inside... wanna do it inside."

furuya didn't sound like he was asking, so you wrap your legs around his waist for assurance, heels digging into his lower back to bring him closer when his hips stutter.

he lifts his head out of the space in your neck, face hot and cheeks flushed a light shade of red as he kisses you slow and sloppy in another effort to suppress his moans again. but you can still hear them, you can feel them and how they intensify the closer he gets.

"cumming, cumming— satoru!" you moan when he pulls away.

you clench around him, strings of curses flowing out until his hips still, burying himself to the hilt.

KOMINATO HARUICHI

+ HANDJOBS. ORAL. he just looks so pretty with his glossy eyes and blushing cheeks. whether he's sitting on your lap, whimpering and nodding mindlessly at your words while you toy with his cock in your hand, or between your legs with his lips sucking your clit with fervor, haruichi's at your mercy.

haruichi sits on your lap, his arms wrapped around your neck while your hand strokes up and down his length in a steady motion. he moans against your lips, pleasure having washed over him and cut short many times.

he'd worked hard this week, balancing college studies and baseball training at the same time, so you gave him a remote, the small device clutched in his hand for the vibrator that whirred at a medium setting in you, a little bit of an extra reward. but you have a feeling that he's forgotten all about it, far too distracted by the pleasure you brought him.

his eyelids felt like they weighed a ton but he kept them open, watching your hand twist and pump around him with a sheen of precum and spit coating your skin.

"a lil' more, haru? 's getting dry." you request, slowing your pace.

haruichi opens his mouth, tongue lolling out to let a drop of spit fall onto the tip.

"thank you, baby." you smile, planting kisses from his cheek to his neck. "you feeling okay?"

he nods, swallowing thick to get rid of any potential stutter. "feels good.. so, so good— please, don't stop."

he rolls his hips, an adorable attempt to aid you in helping him reach his high.

"aww, don't worry. 'm never gonna stop." you coo. "gonna make you cum like you deserve, pretty boy. and," with your free hand you reach behind your neck where his hands rest, tapping the one that clutched the vibrator remote. "turn this up a bit, wanna feel good with you too."

his hands fumble with the remote, pushing the switch up a level. the bullet vibrating against your sweet spot earns a moan out of you, the sound had haruichi throbbing in your hand even as your pace faltered for a moment.

he pulls you in closer, opting to kiss you and drink in your moans while you stroked him on your lap.

"so pretty, haru." you comment between kisses. "my pretty boy with the prettiest cock."

his stomach tightens at your words, the praise making his vision hazy.

"want me to go faster?" you press your lips to his cheek. "'you worked so hard this week, so tell me. tell me what you want, 's okay."

it takes him a moment to relax and find the words he wants to tell you. you were already doing him so good and he was already so close, but speeding up the process shouldn't hurt.

"faster— please. i— i wanna cum so bad." he whines. "jus'— wanna cum, please."

you gladly pick up the pace, one hand twisting around his length while the other rubs the tip. haruichi's moans only increased in volume and it got harder and harder to hold back and savor the moment, his high coming up faster than he wanted.

"cumming, cumming!" he whines, desperately pressing his lips to yours as he spills all over your hand.

you take in his moans, tongues pressed together in a sloppy kiss. haruichi comes down from his high while you're about to reach yours, the fact of it evident in your moans and your panting breath when he pulls away, a string of spit connecting his bottom lip to yours.

he trails kisses from the corner of your mouth to your cheek, down your neck and to your chest, then finally stopping at your lower stomach. haruichi looks up at you as his lips latch onto your clit, lapping and sucking on it gently, actions drawing sweet moans out of you.

the remote's still grasped tightly in his hand, his thumb turning up the intensity to its highest before setting it on the floor. his hands hold onto your thighs as they clasp around his head, burying himself deeper into your cunt as you come so close to your release.

you moan out his name, the sound of it making his eyes roll back in pleasure and the his focus on your clit nearly breaks.

you part your thighs, allowing him room to breathe. slick covered him from his cheeks to his chin and pink dusted over his cheeks as he caught his breath, pulling the vibrator out of you by the string to turn it off. he brings his face closer to your pussy again, flattening his tongue to lick up a stripe from your dripping hole to your clit, swallowing the slick pooled on his tongue.

TAGLIST: @dearkamiya saw this first but here it is again 😵😵 ++ @fsh1gvro @21-06-1996 @1990-06-12 (i'm sorry for the tag sumi but i rmbed u rlly like furuya sooo)

#daiya no ace #daiya no ace smut #daiya no ace x reader #daiya no ace x reader smut #ace of diamond #ace of diamond smut #ace of diamond x reader #ace of diamond x reader smut #diamond no ace #diamond no ace smut #diamond no ace x reader #diamond no ace x reader smut #miyuki kazuya #miyuki kazuya smut #miyuki kazuya x reader #miyuki kazuya x reader smut #eijun sawamura #eijun sawamura smut #eijun sawamura x reader #eijun sawamura x reader smut #furuya satoru #furuya satoru smut #furuya satoru x reader #furuya satoru x reader smut #haruichi kominato #haruichi kominato smut #haruichi kominato x reader #haruichi kominato x reader smut

[f1-disaster-bi]

Ihm don't know if this is still open (the music ask thingie??)

But if it is lance x lando

And number 48 pretty please 🫶🫶🫶

One of my favourite songs

Work Song - Hozier

Lance didn't know why he had agreed to go to this thing. The wine might be good, but the conversation was mind numbingly dull even for him. He knew people probably just expected him to only talk about racing, but at least that was fun in comparison to the conversation he'd been sucked into. He didn't know how Lando had escaped this event. Maybe it was because Lance was Canadian and to their team principal, that was basically American. It was American sponsors that Zak was trying to woo, and Lance still didn't understand why he decided to bring Lance along considering most of these men were conservatives that were pretending that Lance's very existence as a gay Jewish man wasn't ruffling their feathers. Still, he only had another half an hour to get through so he sipped his wine and pretended to engage while thinking about what he was going to text Lando to order from room service for him when he was on the way back to their hotel. "It's nice to escape the old ball and chain for these things", someone Lance had already forgotten the name of joked, and the rest of the men agreed. "Sometimes I think about trading in for a younger model", someone else joked and it made Lance sick as he sipped his drink because how could they joke like that? He really didn't understand it because there was nothing on this earth or any other universe that would ever stop Lance from finding his way home to Lando. They could burry him in the dirt, six feet under, and Lance would dig until his hands were bloody to get back home to the man he loved. There wasn't a fight in the world Lance wouldn't take on for Lando. He couldn't ever imagine talking about him this way, or wishing for someone else because Lando was his person. Lando was Lance's heart, and as cheesy as it sounded, Lance didn't think he could survive a world without him. "I bet you think about trading your...partner...in for a nice young woman sometimes" someone joked, elbowing him as if Lance was supposed to laugh at that but he didn't. "No, I don't", Lance just gave them his PR smile before looking Zak in the eyes, "I'm going to head out boss man, my husband is waiting for me" Lance knew he'd probably get a scolding text from Zak later, but he didn't care. He simply threw back the rest of his wine and ordered an uber. He didn't stay to see them scramble to come back from their 'joke' or make a comment to his face about 'how sensitive' young people were nowadays. Instead, he waited in the cold and asked Lando to order him a burger and fries, and smiled with he got a love heart and kissy face emoji back in return. The journey was quick, and Lance got to chat about the last hockey match with the driver. Every minute closer to Lando, made Lance smile as he fidgeted with his wedding band until he was walking through the lobby, loosening the stuffy shirt he had worn for the event. Getting to the room was blur until he was standing in front of Lando who grinned at him. His hands already reaching for Lance before Lance even knew he was moving to pull his husband into a kiss that they both felt in their bones. "Thought you wouldn't be back for ages?", Lando muttered as they pulled back, his arms still around his neck as Lance pressed kisses into his cheeks. "Missed you too much", Lance admitted because it was true and because he could. "You sap", Lando smiled, blush spreading across his cheeks and eyes sparkling, "I love you" "I love you too, baby", Lance smiled, and kissed his him again because this? This was worth fighting the world for. He would always come home to him.

#lance/lando #lando/lance #strollis #unexpected au

[thedeviltohisangel]

Just thinking about how sentimental John gets at any weddings. It would remind him of his weddings to Cass but also that they survived and built a life together🥺

So perfectly timed as I am working on the next interlude which will be their (second/official) South Carolina wedding!!

John being sappy is one of my favorite little headcanons for him. Especially for his wife and kids.

In my head Gale & Marge's wedding is the first event they go to together after the war and it is a little weird how normal it is. Cass is mindlessly looking at dresses in a department store. John is getting a haircut. They check into a hotel room and there is hot water and fancy things for the bath tub and fluffy robes in the closet.

I picture them being a little awkward around each other during that trip. They bump into each other trying to brush their teeth together or Cass accidentally elbows him while she is tossing and turning at night.

But being at the wedding and see Gale so in love (and Cass FINALLY meeting Marge) kind of makes them remember how they fell together in the first place. Cass cries at John's speech and he keeps her on the dance floor the whole night and he sees the wistful look in her eyes at the dress and the cake and the music and the laughter of everyone you love in one room. And John just kisses her softly and says something about fulfilling his promise to marry her properly and soon.

John and Cass wouldn't trade their little ceremony in London for anything in the world. But their SC wedding isn't under siege and they have reached the after. It is such a boisterous celebration of their love and when the twins are born nine months later...who can blame them?

#masters of the air #john egan #mota #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan fanfiction #john egan x reader #john egan x oc #answered #cass and bucky

[tyo-mimt]

19/36. @tmnt-event-blog

Mikey remembers that asking for help is okay.

Mikey wouldn't say he's overprotective or defensive about the kitchen, but he'd be lying if he said he trusted his brothers with dinner. It wasn't an attack on them as people, but the three of them had different ways of cooking, and Leo would probably be the closest to a legitimate chef, if it wasn't for the missing hand and the hazard a highly explosive prosthetic would pose to the kitchen (thanks, Donnie).

Besides, he enjoyed making food for the whole family, and it wasn't like any of them were going to complain about not being able to eat.

Though, today was a particularly hard day.

His hands shook as he handled the pan, liquid sloshing out as he fought his body to cooperate.

He tried drawing before, but they looked sketchier; it wasn't the artistic kind either, the dissonance between his mind's eye and action discouraging him further. He tried helping Donnie with an invention, but the tremors in his hands caused a wire to melt; he wasn't officially banished from the lab yet, but there was the implication. He even tried to accompany Raph with a training session, but the jitters kept him from focusing; Raph officially banished him from the garage until the bad streak ended.

So where was he now? Struggling to make a simple soup for his family in the kitchen, pushing his frustrations to the back of his mind as he attempted to focus on the task at hand.

He bit his tongue, eyes narrowing as he eventually managed to place the pan down on the stove without spilling anything. He let out a sigh of relief, stepping back only to trip over on a soapy sponge. He wasn't able to catch himself, impacting causing him to kick the cabinet in front of him and topple over a precariously piled stack of dirty pans. It's easy to guess where they all fell.

The sound of metal clattering unceremoniously onto the box turtle alerted the other three turtles, immediately rushing in to lift the dirty dishes from Mikey's fallen body.

"Who was supposed to do the dishes?" Mikey questioned, trying and failing not to sound accusatory.

Raph and Donnie immediately turned to look at Leo; the slider scowled incredulously, "Hey! I dropped the sponge and was dragged out of the kitchen by the Caseys! Well, just Cassandra specifically."

"Never mind that," Raph groaned, facepalming with that typical flavour of big brother disappointment, before extending a hand to Mikey with a soft smile, "Let's just focus on helping Mikey out."

"Right, we don't want him turning into us," Donnie drawled, only to get jabbed in the elbow by Leo.

"We definitely don't want that," Leo rolled his eyes, crossing his arm over his plastron. Mikey laughed a little, lifting his hand up. It shook, a reminder of what caused this to begin with... Ah, but it didn't matter. He took the hand extended to him, being pulled up. The mess on the ground promptly cleaned up and the wet sponge thrown into the closest trash can, they continued to cook.

Raph helped wash the rest of the dishes, Leo kept track of the soup to make sure it didn't overboil, and Donnie cut up a various array of vegetables as Mikey flew across the cupboards for any seasonings he missed. They finished quicker than Mikey expected, just in time for their regularly scheduled dinner time. Dad (Splinter) came back with other dad (Draxum) from a small exploration of New York, immediately welcomed with the smell of warm stew.

It was dysfuctional, maybe a little broken, but Mikey wouldn't trade it for the world.

#rottmnt #tmnt holiday bingo #candle night #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie

[dangerpronebuddie]

@maraskywalkers I had to screenshot your ask because tumblr wouldn't let me answer it 😑

Anyhoo!

I love the idea of these prompts together, so I might just make a separate fic with them, but I did do both for you! I hope they're along the lines of what you had in mind! 🥰

(49 is here and 39 will be a separate post)

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night 13/?

49. Tending to your lover's wound, placing a kiss on top of their head, grateful they're still alive

Summary:

Buck hissed as Eddie cleaned the blood from the cuts littering his face. Eddie muttered an apology and gingerly turned Buck's head to get a better look at the gash at his temple.

(read below!)

Eddie would have to apologize to Hen and Chim later for elbowing them aside as he sat Buck on the ambulance bumper. At least he asked to steal the medkit. It wasn't like they were tending to a patient. And he could've- probably should've- let them handle the situation. But... Well.

Buck hissed as Eddie cleaned the blood from the cuts littering his face. Eddie muttered an apology and gingerly turned Buck's head to get a better look at the gash at his temple.

"Eddie," Buck said softly. Eddie focused on Buck's injuries. As long as he had something to do, he could put off the inevitable emotions surrounding the evening. His heart hadn't stopped racing since Buck disappeared from his sight. If he could just calm down, maybe he wouldn't have to deal with the onslaught of tears he knew would eventually come.

He reached for the butterfly closures. Buck used his good hand to grab Eddie's wrist.

Eddie slowly met his gaze.

"I'm okay," Buck said, swiping his thumb over Eddie's still thundering pulse.

"I know, I just..." Eddie sighed and cupped the back of Buck's neck, leaning over to press a soft kiss to his soot covered forehead. "It was too close, Cariño."

"I know," Buck said. "But it wasn't close enough. I'm a little banged up, that's all."

"If you call a broken collarbone, a concussion, and all the blood a little banged up," Eddie drawled.

"You forgot the split lip," Buck said, actually having to suppress a grin thanks to said injury.

"How could I forget," Eddie grumbled.

They'd been together a total of twelve hours, because Buck decided the start of shift was the perfect time to have a love confession. And all because Eddie made his coffee perfectly. (Why that particular time made Buck finally say something, Eddie didn't know.)

It was adorable, and Eddie thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest and into Buck's warm hands, and he wouldn't trade the moment for the world, but this is one time Eddie would say Buck jinxed them. Not only had Eddie almost lost him- again, he couldn't kiss him like he'd been wanting to for years. The want only got worse after Buck confessed, because as soon as Eddie was going to kiss him, the alarm rang. The shift felt like someone said the q word.

"I can hear you thinking," Buck said with as much of a smirk as he could manage. He hooked a finger through Eddie's belt loop and jostled his hips. "Don't worry, baby, you'll get to kiss me eventually."

Eddie huffed a laugh and gently pressed their foreheads together. "This is agony, I hope you know that."

"Sorry," Buck whispered.

"You're alive," Eddie said reverently. "I don't care about the rest." He stroked Buck's hair and tipped his head down enough to kiss the crown of his head.

#911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #fanfic #my writing #ask response #Kiss Me Once

[rarepears]

Did you read my fic? Did you like it? Do you have any suggestions for future chapters or feedback?

Reading it makes me REALLY want to know how the fuck did Shen Jiu and Yue Qingyuan make up. What in the world could make Yue Qingyuan finally man up and do more than apologize and make sad puppy eyes at Shen Jiu????

Feedback? There's that scene where Shen Yuan is solicitating suggestions on what he should bring back - just who are those old men, bakers, etc. and why would they be crowded alongside the peak lords when Shen Yuan is saying goodbye? Wouldn't such farewells normally be reserved for family/friends? Not random strangers just elbowing their way in to pip in suggestions?

I'm excited to see Shang Qinghua and Shen Yuan's relationship be explained, especially when factoring the whole age gap being more explicitly here and mama bear!Shen Jiu lurking behind, still being sus AF about Shang Qinghua' spy status.

Also can't wait to see Shen Yuan's personality being revealed more in depth. Seeing how Shen Yuan's reaction to the group of women dressed in only one layer and not being jealous (wishing that he could do the same BlueThursday style) is interesting and certainly different from canon!Shen Yuan. Did Shen Jiu beat in ancient China standards of modesty? Is this the influence of growing up in Cang Qiong since he was a babe instead of immediately manifesting an adult body with Adult Decision Making Powers to Make Wrong Decisions?

Would also love to see the other trade routes being explored and explained. Like how cinnamon, native to Sri Lanka (formerly Ceylon), the neighboring Malabar Coast of India, and Myanmar (Burma) made its way up to China and Cang Qiong. (Oh! Are there any demon traders? Or Shang Qinghua used Mobei Jun as a pack mule to get his much desired SPICES because no one is going to stop him from getting his American white girl styled pumpkin spiced latte!)

Oh! Luo Binghe being assumed to be mixed race between Roman and Ceres person - would the latter be assumed to be a slave woman? (What country is even Ceres?? My mind immediately jumped to Central Asia area for whatever reason.) I wonder how assuming such a background would influence Luo Binghe's mindset - would he be interested in Shen Yuan because he's exotic? Is he going to be concerned that Shen Yuan wouldn't fall in love outside of the Han(?) race? How are values and cultures going to clash between the two?

Oh damn, this got way too long. But to conclude, yes I enjoy it a lot! Not sure if you did a lot of research or you just know way too much about this... era? Genre? period? Ancient Rome stuff? in general, but it's fantastic. I have so many questions that I desperately need answered! Hope I didn't overwhelm you hehehe...

[Unigunflutist's fic on AO3]

#ao3 #svsss #svsss ideas #svsss au #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #mxtx #the scum villain's self saving system #shang qinghua #Shen Jiu becomes a silk merchant instead of a Qing Jing disciple AU

[notsofunsenpai]

Guess who's birthday it is??

Mineeee and my sisters ,we're even older today 🎂🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You looked outside the window while drinking your cup of coffee/tea,waiting on Kenji, who said he'll be a little late. Your day started off as normal,nothing too interesting happening, waking up and then having breakfast was about it. You take a sip of the vanilla flavored drink,thinking about how crazy it felt like time was going by so quickly. One minute, it feels like time has slowed down, and if you dont pay attention to it, the time feels like it's going by very fast. You don't feel any different,still felt like your old self but you know as you get older your things on stuff changes whether it be food or relationship. For example, you use hate broccoli, and now you love it. It's funny how things work like that. Your idea type for a lover has changed as well. When you were younger, you drempt of a prince charming who was brave,loveable,very skilled in violin, and can cook. You watched as you see your boyfriend walking by to the door wearing his normal red hoodie,some black pants along with matching shoes,you also noticed he had yellow headphones around his neck,one side had a thunder bolt on it and the other one had a cloud on it. You wouldn't trade him for anything in the world,watching as he opens the door,you finally had someone to call yours. He could be brave when needed to,he's loveable,he can't cook but that's okay because you cherish the moment when you guys order take-out and just chill and play games,he's bilingual and funny,he's honest and loyal. He looks around for you ,when he spots you, his bold blue eyes light up when he sees you as his mouth becomes a grin. He takes a seat next to you,"How's the most beautiful in my life doing on this fine day?"he asked.

You give him a smile,"My day was fine, and now it's gotten better now that you're here."you answered,giving him a kiss which he returned.

"Did i keep you waiting? If so, my bad." He jokingly said,giving you another kiss for being late.

"It's fine." You smiled at him, You loved him so much, whenever you see him he would look so proud to be seen with you , his way of caring is he would tease you and listen to you,and depending on what you say if it's dumb or not he'll still playfully tease you,nudging you with with his elbow to get you to laugh at his bad jokes.

"After this, we're going to go the arcade then eat some Macdonalds,sounds good?" He asked.

You smiled,giving him a nod,"Sounds perfect. "You answered, finishing your drink before the two of you got up and headed out. You guys walked past a flower shop, and he suddenly stops,"Wait here." He said before quickly going in. You leaned against the wall near the shop,waiting for your boyfriend, along with enjoying the nice chilly breeze that came through. It was peaceful,people walked by quickly, but it felt like time had slowed down again. You didn't mind moments like this. It always calmed you. You then see the flower shop door opened,your boyfriend walked to you with the most beautiful boutique of sunflowers you ever seen and hands them to you. "Happy Birthday, baby." He says,giving you a kiss.

You give him a soft smile,"Thank you." You replied,holding the flowers, admiring them. To you,you felt like a birthday can be sweet without cake or fanfare, and if one person cares enough to remember, then cherish them with all your heart and never let them go.

#hello tumblr #vtuber #fanfic #no proofreading we die like men #kenjivtuber #sunkenji #reader x kenji #my writting

[bluerose5]

fenhanders prompts: you don't get to cuddle in bed with your lovers in the Circle. Anders still can't believe he gets to wake in the arms of the two people he loves most. (aka Let Anders Be Cosy Comfy And Loved)

Like always, I wrote more than what was probably expected, but I hope you like what I had in mind, anon. Thanks for the prompt! 🥰

~~~

Every so often, Anders would find himself in Fenris' bed.

For the most part, their trio initially stayed at the Hawke estate every night, but it was no secret that Garrett could barely stand to remain there after Leandra's death. With Fenris' mansion restored to his liking, they often took to his home every other evening to get a change of scenery.

Of course, it was only natural that "every other evening" eventually turned into every evening until both Garrett and Anders were all but moved in.

Everything still felt so new to Anders.

Getting to share a bed with the men that he loved was unlike anything he ever imagined.

For so long, he had only dreamed of being able to wake up beside them, and now that dream was a reality.

Granted, sleeping together often resulted in waking up in the middle of the night to a smack in the face or an elbow to the gut, maybe even some snoring. Maker forbid any of them eat a meal that leaves their stomach unsettled for the night. Someone would end up hogging the blankets, which would result in a tug of war between them all. The victor would cocoon himself, only to have the blankets snatched away later on.

But Anders wouldn't trade it for the world.

Legs would tangle together, bodies warm and inviting.

Anders favored the middle, wedged in between Garrett and Fenris.

Hours would be spent in each other’s arms, asleep, but it somehow never felt like enough.

Then again, waking up was always Anders' favorite part.

In spite of their terrible sleep schedules, Anders always managed to be the first to awaken. In that fuzzy, semiconscious state, Justice lingered at the edges of his mind, giving off a soft, blue glow that pierced through the darkness of early morning.

Together, they watched, breathless, as the break of dawn brought with it the first hints of daylight.

The sun's golden rays trickled in through the mansion’s windows. They fell across the bed, cutting through the shadows that fell over them like cooled sheets.

With light, there came warmth.

Anders watched as tiny motes danced in the air, but they couldn’t possibly hold his attention for long, not when he had Garrett and Fenris pressed up against him.

He and Justice savored the peace and quiet. They savored each shift of the bed, every inch of their partners pressed up against their body.

Each heartbeat sent thin, web-like cracks pulsating along Anders' body, spreading farther and farther until they reached from head to toe.

They took a deep breath, held it, and released it.

When they were merged in such a way, that initial breath always felt as if they had surfaced for the first time after living underwater their entire life. There was a tension that lingered, yes, but there was also a great relief unlike any other.

Whatever air they managed to recover was quickly stolen away when they focused on the men sleeping soundly in their arms.

They didn't dare move a muscle, lest they disturb them, but that didn't mean that Anders and Justice couldn't take their time to admire their beauty.

Both of them were so similar yet so different. Scars and tattoos covered the expanse of their bodies, Fenris' being more of an ode to his past, whereas Garrett's told both his story and the ones of those who came before him. Garrett adorned himself in a variety of jewelry and piercings, but Fenris couldn’t stand the thought of a needle penetrating his skin, even if he found such adornments to be attractive.

While Fenris settled into a long, languid stretch —matching Anders' towering height in its entirety— his lean, muscular build housed so much strength, concealing the warrior's spirit within.

Garrett, in contrast, was a bit on the shorter side, and that was being generous on Anders' part. He was broader, his strength more overt. There was an undeniable musculature hidden beneath Garrett’s soft exterior, noticeably heavier than when he first arrived in Kirkwall.

Being of both human and elven blood, he had more hair than Fenris' smooth frame, yet probably about as much as Anders.

Warm, brown skin caught the light, brushed against the pale expanse of Anders' skin, slightly flushed from the heat that radiated between them.

Brushing his fingertips along their backs, Anders eventually worked his way up to trace each and every detail of their faces, committing them to memory as Justice’s glow slowly but surely faded away.

Fenris was the first to react, always alert at a moment’s notice.

Eyelashes fanned out across his cheeks, fluttering as he struggled to open his eyes.

"Mage," he grunted, the word more so used as a term of endearment, especially compared to when they first met. Yawning, Fenris tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. "What are you doing up?"

"Oh, you know," he whispered, giving him a half-shrug, careful not to jostle Garrett too much. "Just couldn't sleep."

Already, his heart skipped a beat. Those green eyes pinned him into place with a knowing stare, white strands of hair falling down to block the view.

"Nightmare?" Fen asked, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Far from it, actually," Anders breathed.

Reaching out, he brushed Fenris' hair back from his eyes, tucking the strands behind his ear.

Fenris peered over at him, curious.

"What?" Anders asked.

"Nothing," Fenris answered. "It's just that you seem happy this morning."

Anders huffed out a breath of a laugh, amused.

"Am I not allowed to be happy?" he countered.

"That's not what I meant," Fenris sighed. Some of his markings glowed softly, waking when he did. "You're allowed to be happy. I have simply grown used to you being… unsettled most days. Restless." He paused, considering. "It is nice to see you content for once. I think you deserve some peace from all the worries that plague you."

Anders blinked owlishly at that.

"Well, thank you," he murmured, caught off guard by such a sentiment. "I guess…"

He trailed off, averting his eyes, and sank his teeth into his bottom lip.

Fenris reached out to coax it free with his thumb before Anders could damage the skin too much.

Anders spared him a grateful look, then glanced down at their snoozing Champion.

He took a deep breath, and tried again.

"I guess that I am happy to even be here," he explained. "To be in a place in my life where I can be free with my affections. That I don't have to hide who I am or those that I love, for fear of punishment. Maker, the fact that I can even say that I'm in love aloud without fear overtaking me!"

He beamed, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"For a great deal of my life, I have lived in a place that preached, day and night, that people like Garrett and I were unworthy of love, all because of how we were born. In the Circle, you would be considered lucky to steal a brief moment alone together to relieve some stress, let alone anything more." Anders swallowed thickly, a slight burn building in his eyes. "Being able to wake up and feel you two beside me, to know that I am no longer alone…"

Tears streamed down his cheeks, one after another.

He hadn't even realized that Garrett’s breathing had changed up its pace. He tensed ever so slightly at Anders' side, listening in.

"If anything ever happens to the two of you—"

Justice’s glow surged across his skin, there and gone in the blink of an eye.

His influence lingered, echoed. Anders' voice remained noticeably deeper than before.

But Garrett stopped him before he could let his mind venture too far down that path.

"Hey," he said, his hair tie barely containing the wavy curls falling around his face. "Don't. Nothing will happen to us." He cupped Anders' cheek, leaning his forehead against his. "I'll make sure of it."

"And I, as well," Fenris stated.

"Neither of you can promise me that."

"We just did," Fenris said with the utmost conviction, his tone leaving no room for argument. After Garrett pecked Anders sweetly on the lips, Fenris kissed Anders as well. And when Garrett stole a kiss from Fenris, the latter wrinkled his nose. He grumbled at them, playful. "Ugh, morning breath."

"Yeah, yeah," Garrett laughed, snuggling up to Anders' side as more sunlight slowly filtered into the room.

He traced his fingers along Anders' chest, his hand soon splayed out above his racing heart.

Anders placed his hand atop Garrett’s, their gazes trained on one another, dark brown meeting honey gold.

Garrett blessed him with a tender smile that made his spirit soar.

He wiped away Anders' tears with his free hand, Fenris catching any strays that got away.

"Just so you know," Garrett told them, "I'm grateful for whatever force brought you two into my life; and come what may, I know one thing for certain."

He turned his hand over to tangle his fingers with Anders', Fenris resting his hand over theirs in understanding.

Their skin sang everywhere they touched.

"Whatever the future has in store for us, we'll get through it, so long as we face it as one," Garrett explained, gently squeezing each of their hands. "Together."

Fenris nodded, but it took Anders a moment to catch his breath, choked up on the sudden onslaught of emotions.

Eventually, he managed a single word.

"Together," he agreed.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #anders #fenris #garrett hawke #fenhanders #justfenhanders(?) #because that's probably more accurate 😂 #fenhawke #fenders #handers #bluerose writes #bluerose answers

[magicalprofessorsludgedeputy]

Superhero au drabble

"If any of ya ever try something like this again I'll stop ya ugly mugs in!" The barked threat rang out across the parking lot as three boys, each bruised and beaten, ran away with their tails between their legs from the boy who had made it. Bumblebee watched his big brother eye the fleeing boys malevolently as if contemplating whether to chase them or not, his mouth was contorted in a near snarl and his fists were tightly clenched with fresh blood on his knuckles as his tense body shook with rage. Bee took hold of his arm and leaned into him with a small smile. "Thanks jazzy, you're my hero." Just like that the fury disappeared, replaced by a wide grin revealing a missing canine and making jazz's eyes crinkle. "Of course, no one messes with my baby bro but me." The preteen stated cheerfully making bee giggle a bit and lean in more. A comfortable silence hung over the brothers the only sound they carnival music filling the air alongside the smell of popcorn and cotton candy.

Bumblebee clutched the bee plushie jazz had won him close to his chest along side his bag of sugary treats. The ones he had managed to buy after spending weeks saving up his pocket change along side jazz in order to come here. The ones the boys had attempted to steal from him after he ran out ahead of his brother, cornering and threatening him with a beating if he didn't hand over his hard earned treasures. Which is what had lead to his big brother beating them all senseless in retaliation. Even three on one, jazz fought them like a hero battling villains and made it clear just what happened to those who thought they could hurt his family. Bee closed his eyes. No matter what happened, no matter what people said or did, bee knew his brother would always be there for him. Either to protect him or patch him up after the times he couldn't or even to just sooth him while bee bawled into his shoulder, he would would always be there for him. Even if the world was against them, even if no one ever wanted them, even when they had grown up and become famous heroes together, his big brother would always be there and things would be alright

"hey honey bee, whatcha looking at?" Bee looked up at the sound of black arachnia's voice to see the spider next to him. "Just reminiscing." He answered holding up the photo for her to see. In it a young jazz shot the camera a gap toothed smile with one arm slung around his brother who beamed just as brightly, both of them were bathed in the vibrant lights of the ride around them and stood in front of a Ferris wheel. " Sweet primus is that jazz?" She questioned with a shocked esppesion. making bumblebee grin. "The one and only." He stated. "Dang. I barely recognize him without the white hair, or the shades for that matter." Bee giggled. "Well I doubt anyone would recognize you from your old photos." "Probably not." B.A agreed before grinning mischievously. "But I could recognize you a mile away. That baby face is permanent!" Bumblebee blushed blushed and playfully elbowed her. "At least I don't look like a hag!" Arachnia gasped in mock offense "hag!" "Hag." The pair glared at eachother for a few seconds but broke down laughing almost immediately. Bee sighed happily then frowned. "Do you ever miss your old life?" Arachnia paused before answering. "Sometimes, there are days where I wonder what could have been you know?" Bee nodded. He knew that feeling more then he'd like to admit. "But at the end of the day, I wouldn't trade the life I have now for the world. After all, I have people who love me, the freedom to experiment as I please, and you as a friend." Arachnia smiled at bee at pulled him close to her. " I know you left alot behind when you made your choice and no one will blame you for missing it sometimes. Even if you're happy with what is it doesn't mean you can't mourn what was." A sob racked bee's chest as tears slid down his cheeks and cluched his friend tightly. "Thank you." He whispered as fingers gently carded through his hair. "I'm here for you honeybee, just know that everything will be alright." Bee nodded. No matter what, as long as he had his friends, everything would be alright.

#tfa bumblebee #tfa au #megabee hero au #blackarachnia

[darlin-collins]

Soo i talked about honey being a cat shifter

And now i have lil fic about itttt

It's after honey told guy and he got comfortable with it and they shift whenever they want

Also i was supposed to write this the day i mentioned it but i didn't

This is also projected onto guy and honey from the other day i was playing with my cuddly grumpy cat:)))

Notes: talking ab the nono square and cats mating season:)

______

Honey loves pats and cuddles and all that muchy shit, but, they hate it just as much, how? No one knows yet

So when they were shifted on the couch their head on Guy's plam purring to hell and back, and Guy decided to pick them up to put them in his lap so he can pet them properly

That pissed them off.

They grawled the hell you trying to do??

"come onnnn! I just want you on my lap" he laughed

Yeah no They half meowed half grawled

They twisted away from him, and sat away till he stopped paying attention to them

And then just got closer and throw themselve at his hip

"what-Awww, you came backk" he baby talked them

honey is about rip one or two of his fingers

Be put his whole forearm on them,not Even the right way were they can rest theirhead on it, it was low! So low that his elbow was almost touching their- ugh!... they moved to try to pray it off, get it higher, ot only made worst, they meowed again, high and annoyed, it wasn't on purpose, it's their cat showing discomfort

Guy's attention got back to them, they were still trying to push his arm away from there

Now in any other case they would enjoy his hands wondering in their rather marvelous body, in fact he helped them alot during mating season and they're so thankful to have a mate like him who help them almost every day-not that he didn't enjoy it, little freak- BUT, now they're a fucking animal and they don't feel like that, not yet, not if he gets his arm off their lower body!

He just laughed and grabbed them, well, that got rid of a problem and caused another

Now, they meowed and grumbled and they started to try walking away before he picks them up, yes they were big, yes they're on high end of werecats but they are still a cat, he can pick them up if he wants

They continued to meow and protects, he's not picking them up!, no! It just not happening..

"Babby come onnnn, you can't want cuddles amd then when you get them be grumpy about it" he was laughing and dragging them back to his side

They still didn't want the cuddles that they wanted

He layed on the couch, his head close to theirs his hands stilled, just resting on them now

Honey almost layed down beside him when he just

"Gotchaa" he tugged them to himself and huged them tight

They grumbled loudly and screamed at him,while being careful to not use teethor claws,as much of a little shit he was,he is still the love of their life,that they wouldn't trade for the world, still they got annoyed and shifted back

Hitting him amd pinshing him till his grip got loose, they glared at him as he he was laughing and then got close to them to kiss them

They grumbled into it, but kissed him back

He got back to his spot on the couch

They waited for him to focus back no the tv

And they got closer to him

Lying their head on his shoulders<3

#redacted guy #redacted honey #redacted asmr #redactedasmr #redactedverse

[softersinned-arc]

@xfindingtrouble said: [ GLANCE ]:          cassandra glances at astoria while in a public setting to assure them they aren’t alone, and ground them in doing so.

Age and experience mean little, she has learned. Death is still death, and a wound will still bleed.

It might have been easier to bear if she could remember how to pray, but she has nothing to offer except the shamelessness of grief. Bargaining. Begging. As if the gods care what she has to say, or what she's willing to give. Death is still death. The wound keeps bleeding.

She feels sick and sore, all too aware of the earth beneath her, cold and hard and silent. How cruel, she thinks, how hateful. All the decades she's spent learning how to hear, learning how to understand, but the only sound to decipher now is the nervous movement within the temple. She hears the thunder of Pike's footsteps as though she were there with them. She hears the tremor in Keyleth's voice. She hears the rustle of wings.

And she still doesn't hear him.

Astoria draws her knees to her chest and bows her head. (Give him back, she wants to demand, give him back to me, to us, but the only god she knows how to address wouldn't listen.) The sun continues its climb through the sky, casting the world in a warm golden glow, and she pulls the hood of her coat up to protect her from its light.

She has no place here, so near to holy ground. Her back burns against the outer wall of the temple, and she wonders if her own death is a rot infecting the stone, the soil. If he won't have enough of a foothold to return because he's been touched so tenderly by a dead thing already. Trembling, gloved fingers interlace behind her head, elbows tucked in around her as if to create more of a shield.

"He's in there?"

The question startles her from her stillness; Astoria lifts her head, squinting in the early morning's light. She could recognize Cassandra by sound, by scent, before sight, and she notes belatedly that there are others here, too. Yennen. Guards.

Four in total, and she somehow missed their arrival.

Better things to listen for.

"Yes."

"Is he—?" Cassandra chokes before she can get the last word out, and Astoria aches.

"Yes."

"Oh." She swallows, hard, then looks towards the closed door. "Oh."

Astoria waits for her to scream, to wail, to collapse, but she only stands still, opening both hands as wide as she can before clenching her fists tightly enough to pierce the skin of both palms. The sweet smell of blood hits the air, and Astoria hardly notices.

When Cassandra speaks again, her voice is hoarse. "You didn't—?"

"I tried. I wanted to. I couldn't go through with it. He wanted to die human."

"Oh."

Say something else, Astoria wants to demand, hate me, blame me, scream at me, do something besides this, but Cassandra is every inch a leader. What space is there for grief in a crisis? It takes her a moment to realize that she wants the anger because she wants the absolution that follows.

"It wasn't my death to take away from him," Astoria says quietly, a little desperately, and when she lifts a hand to shield her eyes from the sunlight, Cassandra wears an expression of absolute understanding.

How does that make it worse?

"Thank you," she says, so softly, so gently that Astoria thinks she might break.

The rising sun beats against her. She hasn't yet shaken the pain from crossing the temple's threshold to lay his body out on the table, and there are smears of blood dried and flaking under her eyes. (Take me instead, she wants to offer, but the only god she knows how to reach would never trade for something she's already deemed worthless.)

Thank you? For what? What has Astoria done worthy of thanks?

I didn't save them. I didn't avenge them. I didn't fulfill my promise to them. I held them while they grew cold. I smelled the decay in their body. Do you know what that's like? Smelling the person you love most in the world rotting in your arms? And I couldn't move. Couldn't cry out. I didn't save them. I can't even be in there with them now.

The sun still rises. Time still passes. The world doesn't have the decency to end when hers has. She closes her eyes, tips her head back against the wall, feels the unpleasant itch where the sun's light hits her face, albeit indirectly. Cassandra hesitates, then closes the distance between them, reaches down just enough to brush her fingers over Astoria's shoulder.

"I know." She's stepped away by the time Astoria opens her eyes, back towards Yennen and the guards, and for once Astoria doesn't want to be alone.

I have nothing to offer. She isn't even sure who she's addressing, only that she has to address someone. I have nothing worth so much.

In the temple, she hears Keyleth's voice quivering.

But Whitestone needs him and Cassandra needs him and Vox Machina needs him and all the world needs him.

Under one of the trees, she hears Cassandra let out a quiet, shaking breath.

I need him.

The light burns against her skin and she addresses the dawn, the creeping sun, the unseasonable warmth. What else is there to beg but this? Him? In Whitestone, where he planted the tree? In Whitestone, where Percy was born and changed and reborn again?

Please. She swears that for a moment the sunlight feels almost like a caress on her battered skin. I hadn't felt the sun without pain for years. Not until that night in my library. My laboratory. Drinking wine. Hearing him laugh. I felt so warm.

She hears panic in the temple but still she cannot hear the sound of his heart. She hears a soft cry from Cassandra but still she cannot hear the sound of his breath.

I'm so cold. I need them. I can't bear to lose them. I can't bear to be so cold. I'm not ready. Bring them home. Bring them back. Please. I need them. They're the sun, to me. They're summer. They're home.

She listens for an answer. She hears only silence. For several long minutes she doesn't move, and then she hears it.

The sound, fainter than any she's ever heard, the most beautiful thing in the world.

The warming of his blood.

The quiet and pained beating of his heart.

She lets out a strangled sound, inhuman and pained, and she covers her face with her gloved hands and she gives in to the dry, wracking sobs that shudder through her. At once Cassandra is moving, and she kneels in front of Astoria, fingers curling around her wrists, trying to pry her hands away from her face.

"What is it?" Cassandra pleads, and Astoria rests her hands against the girl's gaunt cheeks, meets her eyes, listens.

"His heart just beat." There is a breath, shallow and rattling. There are sighs and sobs of relief, and laughter, and Astoria closes her eyes for a moment. "He's breathing. Go. Go."

Cassandra scrambles to her feet and moves towards the door to the temple; she's about to throw the door open when she stops, takes several long breaths, tries to compose herself. She is the leader Percy knew she would be. She is the leader this place needs. She is the leader they all need. She will enter the temple composed (as much as she can manage). She will contain herself until she is alone, so that Percy needn't bear the weight of her grief. The moments pass, and she squares her shoulders, nods as if to herself, and Astoria feels herself pulled to her feet, hood falling as she stands.

They're speaking, inside, though Astoria finds she can't make out the words just yet, overwhelmed as she is, and she stands stock-still, stares at the wooden door, tries to quell the shaking in her hands.

The door opens. Cassandra bursts forward, and the heavy tangle of her emotions pushes at the limits of her control. Astoria swears, as she steps as close to the open door as she can without feeling as though she's about to be torn limb from limb, that for a moment the sunlight on her skin feels like a kiss to her temple.

"Where is he?" Cassandra speaks with one voice, though she speaks for the both of them. "Is he alright?"

And then, his voice: "I'm going to throw up."

Astoria presses a hand to her lips to silence a desperate laugh. Cassandra, ever the younger sister, answers at once: "Oh, he's alright."

Her legs shake beneath her. She sees a vague shape moving—Cassandra, her footsteps clear, walking towards a smaller shadow. Pike. She looks at her, first, then back over her shoulder, and even through the painful morning light Astoria knows that Cassandra is looking at her. She feels them make eye contact. She feels so much less alone. After a beat, Cassandra looks back at Pike. "Thank you."

It takes what little is left of her strength to keep herself upright. The voices blend together; all she cares about now is the stuttering beat of his heart. After a moment she realizes that Casandra is leaving the temple, no doubt to give them a measure of privacy, and she stops in the doorway.

For a long moment, they simply look at each other. Astoria is a frightful sight, hair tangled from her own fingers, streaks of blood drying against her skin, inhuman eyes shining with unshed tears. Cassandra is regal, and fragile, and terribly young. Astoria feels the most absurd urge to wrap her in her arms and call her sister and promise her a moment's reprieve.

The moment passes—but Cassandra slows as she passes her, catches one of Astoria's hands in her own and squeezes, much in the way a sister would.

#xfindingtrouble #xfindingtrouble ( cassandra de rolo ) #i. here's the truth from my red lips. ( answers ) #(utter fucking wreck) #(i may write another version of this more focused on cass?? this was simply Stuck In My Brain and if i didn't put it somewhere) #(well. i would simply have perished.) #(also i know she's not yennen in the stream but idk what they're doing given the [redacted] reveal in-show so. idk man.) #(lmk if i should change anything!!!) #(and for organization purposes) #iii. when i feel this cold you're like the fucking sun. ( percy x astoria )

[blackberry-gingham]

Fire on the Mountain

Charles Xavier is a man of great wealth- One of the wealthiest, even. Most comes from inheritance sure, but he has his ways of maintaining said funds. One such way leads him to the office of Norman Osborn for talk of business and investments. All just an innocent business venture, right?

Right?

(also available here on AO3 if you want lol)

Tags: a bit of psychological horror/thriller (welcome to October :) ), character study

Tag list: idk who would even like this tbh lol. Uuuuuh @greenheart99 as usual, and maybe @samatedeansbroccoli for saying "do it" lmaooo

---

Ping.

Ping.

Ping!

At last the elevator door dings. Copper in a sharp marble housing, they glide aside without a sound.

Professor Charles Xavier, founder, leader, and spokesman of the infamous X-Men floats across the overly polished floors. Not a trace of dust, nor grime, nor age, nor cracks- Were in not for the proceeding reputation of the place, it would almost all be too perfect.

Norman Osborn, perfectly human and yet infamous all in his own right- CEO of this very, equally infamous, corporation. His wit only outmatched by perhaps the sharpness of his tongue. A cunning business man. A savant in a building full of mere, meek scientists. A crimson devil in a suit and a penthouse, looking down on all the city beneath him-

And just the man the former is here to see.

Two business men, really. One seeking only to give to the world. One seeking to take for himself. Xavier has been a man of great wealth all his life- He has his ways of maintaining that status... and even more ways of keeping it private from the affairs of his other work. After all, he must.

The X-Men need his support. His focus. Mutants, need his X-Men. Humans, need his X-Men. The world, needs his X-Men. He does all of this, for all of them. The lectures he teaches. The business he conducts.

Today, he is here on invite of Mr. Osborn himself. A business deal. An investment, to be specific. But above all, a trade- Though only if he sees fit.

"Professor! My my, what an honor", Norman rises from his chair to cross the room. Every long step commands the room. Confident. Strong. Electric. He offers his thin, cold hand to shake. His grip is deceptively firm, "Well, it's not every day I get to host a real life hero in my office"

He beams from his eyes and his too white teeth- The Professor nearly fights the urge to squint as he politely waves the other man off, "Please... You flatter me Mr. Osborn-"

"Oh, Norman please-", he interupts with a humble gesture.

"Ah, of course. Thank you, Norman, but hardly- My X-Men are the true heroes to thank. Without them, I wouldn't be here myself", he smiles warmly.

Norman backs up merely a pace or two, taking a seat on the corner of equally polished, equally too bright desk. His smile closes from teeth to just lips, nodding in appreciation of what the Professor has to say. Charles has just barely finished his thought before the other man seizes the conversation once more. He leans an elbow onto his thigh, his perfectly tailored suit matching the every move of his strikingly fit body, and slowly shakes a pointer finger in the Professor's direction, getting more and more animated all the time-

That same toothy grin breaks free to blind his guest once more, "See, I love that mentality you've got Charles- May I call you Charles?", but he waits for no answer, pushing on full steam ahead, "I love it, because that is just the way I feel about my own- The brilliant men and women here at Oscorp... Without them, why I too would be nothing myself"

Norman goes oddly sentimental for just a moment... Then, just as soon as it came- the act is gone.

Mr. Osborn jumps up, walking slowly around behind his desk before taking a seat, "See, here at Oscorp, I believe it's about the team. Pulling together, bringing in the skills and talents and thoughts of every member- that is what makes us successful. The tighter the team, the stronger the results, that's what I always say. Wouldn't you agree?"

Push push push-

"Uh-", Charles' head spins at the whirlwind of words. He feels he hardly has a moment to digest them any longer then mere, basic understanding. Mr. Osborn, smiling still, moves from resting in his office chair to leaning intently on his desk. Shining eyes. Sparkling teeth. A tiny, most subtle nod of- "Uh, yes... Yes, I agree whole heartedly Mr.- uh, Norman"

Release-

The two share a chuckle, and at last Norman sits back, the pressure relinquishing the room.

Norman sighs, then nods almost to himself, "I thought you would- The way I see it, when your team is that close- well it really stops being just a team, you know? They become friends. Family, even...", he rocks forward, that same pretend, dreamy smile on his face. Norman reaches for a large picture on his desk and adjusts it just so- Manipulated in such a way to showcase the contents of it's frame.

Therewithin is a man, obviously Mr. Osborn himself. A women, whom the Professor does not recognize. And between the two, held in his father's arms, a young boy with a very familiar head of bright, curly red hair.

"You know Charles, family means everything to me... You said it yourself, without your team, your family- Who are we, really? That's just why I asked you here", he looks from the photo frame to the professor's face with a slow, knowing smile, "See I have a great respect for you and the work of your X-Men... That's why I want to help you take care of your family", he points again, accentuating his words as he speaks with fabricated understanding... Then produces a dense, manilla folder for the table, "-With a little help from mine"

Never losing that piercing, bright eyed, fatherly smile, Mr. Osborn lays out the designs and documents. Each one he talks up, every style of investment- every design of technology and suits, all better then the last. So fast, so loud, and so so bright... And yet for all of this mans noise-

Charles' head feels surprisingly clear.

Clear, in a way that only a psychic would understand. Clear, on it's own. Clear, in that he need not apply effort to block out the voices and thoughts of the world around him. Even with Mr. Osborn's incessant chattering and hustling- This room is so... Quiet.

"And here, I was thi-", Norman looks up for just a split second, working hard to hold back a displeasured glare. He works his jaw as he takes in the Professors strange, nearly pained and certainly confused, grimace. He replaces the friendly mask quickly, "Is... something the matter, Professor?"

Charles refocuses back to his host, seemingly shaking the tension out of his head, "Ah, pardon me Norman... I must have gotten distracted", he takes a moment to look around the room, taking it all in... But before the other man can get in a single word more, "You know I must say, this room just struck me as so remarkable! I nearly hadn't noticed the psionic shielding you've had installed until just now- It must be very excellent quality", he smiles innocently.

Without skipping a beat, Norman chuckles congeniality, taking a break from his papers to posture once more, "Oh, that? Yes yes... Top of the line stuff. I assure you, it isn't personal, merely a piece in the game- business, and all. You know how it is...", he laughs.

"I'm sure", the Professor nods, wearing a cryptic smile, "I suppose I'm just a bit surprised that a man so willing to work with mutants could be so defensive against them, is all- I mean, surely we have nothing to hide here considering we're all on the same page, as you say"

Norman's crisp smile tightens, the light in his eyes sharpens into a beam- but the Professor smiles insistently, nonetheless. So, he smiles warmly in return.

"How right you are-", Norman nods and reaches into a drawer in his elaborate wooden desk. He holds up a small remote in a trusting gesture- Were he to be holding his finger any lower on the device, the logo of Trask Industries would be given away. Norman chuckles and shakes his head auspiciously, his torso jolting with the laughter as it cracks his weathered face into a charming grin, "I like you Charles... You're a man who knows what he wants. You know how to get it, and you know how to look out for your own. I like that-"

Osborn clicks a button on the remote. Not a sound is made, but they both know the shielding has fallen. The noise of this world rushes to Charles' mind- A smile dawns on the Professor's face, but Norman speaks first, "We're a lot alike Charles... And besides- Just like you said", he leans back smiling, arms wide in an innocent gesture, "I have nothing to hide"

"Glad to hear it- I thought you would understand", Charles gives another of his small, winning grins, "Now, as you were saying..."

Norman perks up, back into business mode once more. He shelves his remote and turns the attention of them both back to the papers.

In all his years as the Professor- The man behind the X-Men. The crusader for peace between human and mutant kind alike. A man of policy. A man of responsibility. In all that time, he has made a personal code not to reach into the private thoughts of others. Not without absolute necessity. Truly, he wouldn't pry into the head of any, harmless soul-

But with this shielding surprise... Is Mr. Osborn here truly as harmless as he would have him believe?

A precaution? Perhaps. Necessary for a meeting like this? Well, that would be the issue, isn't it. Osborn is a business man after all- Nothing is ever truly straight forward in these things. Nothing ever without a double edge or benefits that only the house can see. The only issue is... He is no gambling man.

Especially not when it comes to his family.

Maybe just one little look won't hurt... He must be sure, after all.

Osborn does exactly as he has all along- He talks and talks, blissfully unaware of the Professor in his mind. Charles listens and nods along when appropriate, responding to statements where he can. The split of his concentration is difficult- but not impossible. As he listens and as he probes, he makes an astounding discovery... Against his previous suspicions, everything Norman says seems to be truth. The deals and promises he speaks seem to have no hidden agendas indeed.

Although...

There- Something about the new suits he's pushing... There's something in the way. A block. A curtain. A wall. He can't possibly get through without the other's mind noticing him, but... Dare he go through with all these agreements without knowing? Mr. Osborn has been cordial enough, even agreeing to remove the psychic barrier. Is it really that much of a-

"Looking for something, jackass?"

In the physical plane, all at once the room falls is silent. Norman has ceased his speech, and receded into his head. It would seem, Charles has dedicated a little too much of his efforts to concentrating on the mind reading... Where the hell did that voice come from? Just like Norman, and yet too different. In cadence and tone and yet-

In the empty space of Osborn's mind, all the twists and turns and fractured walls- he looks around for the source. Laughter echoes all around. Again, Norman... but not exact. Before he can wonder too long, Osborn's voice speaks up, everywhere at once, "Professor... You wound me! And here I thought we were having a nice conversation"

Just like that, footsteps click up from behind. Charles turns abruptly to meet them, watching rigid with tension as the business man calmly approaches. He's been caught.

Suddenly, the voice emanates from just one point- Directly him, as he speaks, "Did I bore you, my friend? So sorry, I've been told I'm quite the talker-", he mocks.

Charles swallows, "Sorry... 'Friend'. I didn't mean to intrude, but... You know how it is. 'A piece in the game', and all- The matter is, I just couldn't help but wonder what you so obviously don't want to tell me about these uniforms you're selling", he gestures loosely to a small, mental bunker off to the side, solitary in the nothingness of the mindscape.

Norman stops a healthy distance away from the Professor. He simply casts his eyes the way of the structure, "Oh, that?", Osborn waves his hand, and the walls fall down- There is nothing behind them but a whisp of smoke. It fizzles lazily in the air, then rushes to Norman's open hand. Once there, it materializes into a small SD card, "Well, I just thought since the suits are my property... I should have some information on all that's going on. Assets, and all that- Every bit of communication and camera data stays between the team... and also comes back to me. For safe keeping, of course", he smiles, and crushes the card back into smoke in his hand, "See? Nothing really... Hardly worth all this intrusion, don't you think?"

The Professor bites back, indignant, "So we give you a free seat at the war room, is that it? You surveil my team. Sit in on all our conversations. All our training and missions- And I'm supposed to just go along with it? To what end would you eve-?"

"Why, for all your brilliance, of course! Yourself. Dr. McCoy. All your fascinating X-Men and their mutations... So much science. So much potential- So many things for me to learn, to adapt into technology for my company. For my shareholders..."

Like a flash. Like a switch- Osborn's face twitches. His expression contorts. A hellish, wolf like grin stretches his features. A whole new voice exits his mouth, "For me-"

Once again, Osborn advances... Closer and closer still, that same, insane sneer frozen into his face, "Tsk tsk tsk... Poor Chuck, so confused huh?", Suddenly, Osborn disappears into the whiteness. That voice echoing all around once more, "You look so lost!"

Charles turns and turns, around and around. Where did he-?

A finger taps his shoulder. When he turns to meet it... A face, Norman's bu- No.

No, this... It's something else entirely. It must be. His skin is mottled and peeling, all but melting off his face. The flesh beneath is sick. Scaley. Green-

The creature of Norman's brain takes a hold of Xavier's lapel, the other fist cocked back, ready to strike. Then in that raspy, cackling voice he mocks, "How's about I show you the way out?"

Charles jolts, like awoken by falling. When next he opens his eyes, it's to the concerned face of Norman Osborn. No scales. No peeling skin. His voice is his own as he asks, "Everything alright, Charles?"

The Professor blinks hard, shaking his head lightly. He says nothing, but... The look he gives says more then enough. Norman nods solemnly, a far away smile on his face as he gathers his papers back up into a neat stack.

He knows when he's been had.

"Well, I guess you've seen everything you need to then-"

Norman shuffles the papers one more time, tapping each end on the table before filing them away. The Professor clears his throat, just as perplexed now as he was mere moments before in Osborn's head. Yet still, he manages, "Just so"

With the papers done, one of a rare few business deals to have fallen through, Norman clicks that button on his psychic shielding remote once more as that same, uncomfortable silence fills Charles' head.

The only thing left, is the sound of Osborn's voice. All the friendly, shining charm has vanished from the man behind the desk, "Then I think we're done here- I assume you can see yourself out", His face falls to an almost bored sort of annoyance, his voice cold and succinct- After all, what more is there to say?

This... mutant- is useless to him now.

Charles gives Mr. Osborn a tight lipped smile and a nod before turning to make his exit. As he goes, his mind races over thoughts of the encounter, with... Whatever that was. Like a madness, the Professor's head buzzes and rushes. What was that? Like a whole other being in the man's very body, it was.

He makes his way through the door, all but missing the squeak as a body rises from the office chair-

Could he be a mutant, then? No... Norman Osborn, a mutant? No, surely not- He would've known about a revelation such as that long ago if it were true.

The elevator's call button is nearly in arm's reach now. The soft click of dress shoes echoes across the empty hallway.

Well if not that, then....?

With the shields up, the approach is shockingly silent. But the words from Mr. Osborn's mouth come impressively clear, "Oh, and Charles...?"

Professor Xavier turns his shoulder, looking back no more then he dare. Norman Osborn, long and tall stands centered in the open doorway. He speaks no more, but indeed he need not.

Eyes unnervingly wide. Irises and pupils wild and frayed. Mouth stretched in a grin most unsettling. Norman, or rather, a man who looks much like him- raises a slow, shaky finger to his lips, eyes locked onto the Mutant's, even from so many feet away.

Norman purses his lips, finger held aloft and, like one would extinguish a flame, leaves him with a parting reminder-

Shhh...

#now how to actually tag this lol #norman osborn #charles xavier

[goddsly]

Morning

He cracks open an eye and sighs at the blurry figure that greets him.

"What are you doing?"

There's a puff of air that hits his chest and the thing adjusts, head raising from where it rested between his ribs.

"Waiting."

Vol's features became clearer as he inched up closer, their noses almost touching. His dark eyes appeared black rather than their usual warm brown.

"For what?"

"You to wake up."

V's fingers came up to gently rest on either side of Roman's face. He hasn't shaved in a while, so there was a good amount of stubble there, and usually earned a complaint from Vol about it, but instead, he was touching freely, eyes roving around. Roman raised slightly, more awareness lighting his green hues.

"Didn't you sleep?"

The man on him hummed, gangly limbs tightening around Roman. It was such a nonresponse that Roman resisted rolling his eyes at him. He opted to wrap his arms around the thin needy thing on him, pressing their lips together. He smiles into the next kiss when Vold melts on him. Roman liked this best when it was just the two of them. His working hours were spent away from V more and more, and he hated it just as much as V held it over him with pointed glares and stony silence. He thought he'd be sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms when he came home late three nights in a row. Roman chose to believe he had shown mercy because Vol knew that Roman felt the same way each moment they weren't together. They had to share the same frustration because of the way they were coming together now, lazily kissing and holding each other like they had all the time in the world to do so.

They could if they wanted to. Like they had back then when they first started trading kisses instead of death threats. It had been exciting then, and still would be, but also scary. But running from everything and everyone made his stomach twist uncomfortably, partly from guilt and partly from a hidden part of himself that wanted nothing more than to lock Vol away so that only he could look at him. So that they could just look at each other, the rest of the world be damned.

"What are you thinking about?" Vold pauses to ask him, dark eyes half-lidded as he watches Roman.

Roman thinks about telling him, but he's sure the other already knows. He wouldn't have even asked the question if he didn't. He just wanted to hear Roman say it so he could try to convince him to go all the way down that rabbit hole. Roman smiles at him.

"I'm just thinking about how beautiful you are." He says, tucking a loose curl behind V's ear.

"Ah, a lousy kisser and a liar." Vol mused, setting his chin in his palm.

Roman winced at the sharp elbow grinding into his sternum.

"Lousy kisser? Don't even with that."

"I see no evidence to contradict me."

Roman raised an eyebrow at him. Vol gave him a blank stare in return, but his excitement wasn't as easy for his body to hide when Roman smirked, twisting them around so that Vol was underneath him, legs already settling over his back. How dare he be so easily hard to please?

#my writing #quick thing #don't mind me posting a shit ton I just realized how empty this blog is so im filling it with old crap lol #obviously based on a 1x1 rp with a friend