#Listen SOMEONE has gotten me into thinking about how my muses would show affection

[autumna-potentia]

Galaxy is the kind of gal to make only one hot choco cup so she'd have an excuse to kiss you when you ask to get a taste or a cup for yourself

[saturnsstufff]

If your requests are open, could you maybe do a C!Techno x Reader? Like, the Butcher Army is there for Techno and Phil wasn't able to give him a\such an early head's up so he's not really prepared, and Quackity has the reader hostage when they show, cause maybe they were outside doing something... You don't have to, of course! -Sugar Anon (may I claim this Anon?)

Ooh! Most definitely! And of course you can claim it your my first anon!🖤

Warnings: Blood, swearing

Techno was a pretty well known man, lets face it. Maybe not in the way you hoped, and in this instance you mean he was wanted.

But you were not awhere of that because you lived with him out in the chilly Tundra. Phil would usally bring you two the new updates and anything you should be aware of. So when he didnt show for his morning tea you were a but skeptical to say the least. But techno had casually shrugged his shoulders, waving it off that he had gotten busy. This was true. Phil was a awfully busy man, he never seemed to stop moving, building, or exploring. So you joined techno on his assumption.

Techno was casually brewing potions that afternoon. Not a uncommon occurance to say the least. You had grown accustomed to seeing the towering man working over his bottles. His large but gentle hands gracefully, and carefully manuvering the glasses to where he pleased.

"Techno love? Im going to go trade these books nearby ok?" You mentioned as you took your cloak. Slipping it on so you could contain your warm. Techno hummed in agreement. Since you were so far from L'amanburg he didn't really mind you walking freely to the nearby village. He actually viewed your common trips as a large help.

"I have seven emeralds in that chest over there, could you see if any of them are willing to trade for a mending book?" He asked well he looked up to you. His reading glasses resting on his nose. You smiled brightly and nodded.

"Of course!" Anything you could do to help you were down to do. L'amanburg wasn't aware Techno had a lover, mostly because Techno didn't want you getting pulled into his rather volient affairs. He viewed them as his battles. Not battles that you had to fight.

Well collecting the gems into your basket he spoke up again, his hand coming to the small of your back. "Take Carl ok? I can't have my princess walking like the peasants do" he said bemused. Pressing a gentle but loving kiss to your forhead.

You leaned into him, enjoying the physical affection he gave you. Techno wasn't one to voice his love Rather, instead he would gift you, or make physical actions twords showing you how much he cared.

You walked out and hopped onto Carl the sturdy, and loyal steed waiting for the new adventure he would be taking. Edging your heels into him you began to head for the forest.

After a while of riding through the woods you began to grow weary. You felt like you were being watched. You were not a Hybrid like Techno so you couldnt smell or hear any abnormalities. But you just knew somthing was off. It was a harsh mental debate on whether to turn around or continue. Ultimately you decided it was best to just turn around. For how on edge you were you figured that telling Techno, and him laughing at you was better than lingering outside anymore.

You pulled the reigins, signaling for Carl to turn, however when you did, someone had jumped onto Carl behind you. Grabbing you tightly to prevent your flailing. You couldnt help the blood curdling scream you let out before your mouth was covered by a hand. You were panicking. You couldnt see your attacker but very well felt them behind you.

"Im gonna make you a deal. Your going to take us back to that nice cottage of yours, or I'll paint your blood all over the snow" the voice sneered next to your ear. "Im going to remove my hand. If you so as utter a word I wont hesatate to get rid of you. Am I clear?" The voice was slow, but threatening. They meant what they said. You could only nod slowly as he removed his hand from your mouth. "In case you get a wild burst of courage... I'll just leave this here" he had taken his sword out. Lingering it by your neck. You didn't know what else to do, so you just took the reigins and slwoly started back home.

When you got to Technoblade's Cottage you were forced off of Carl, the snow did little in softening your fall. You looked up praying thag techno herd some commotion.

"Technoblade get your ass out here!" The man Yelled, you looked up to him. He had black hair poking out from his beanie. Underneath his armor was a bloody a apron. All, in all, not someone you wanted to be around.

When the door opened you called out for Techno. Trying to make a run for him. But instead you were only grabbed by your ankle and dragged back to the raven haired man. The sword he held finding it's way to your neck.

"Let her go Quackity." Techno's eyes were narrowed and calculated. He wasn't pleased by any means for how Quackity was manhandling you.

"You think I'm going to listen to you? Your fucking delusional. Heres whats going to happen Techno. Your going to come with us. Or I'll kill her and give your front lawn a nice new red decoration." You whimpered. All you wanted was Techno. You wanted to be in his arms, you didn't like how This 'Quackity' man was talking or handling you.

"Your going to let her go first." Techno stepped closer. His hand drawing his blade. You could see Techno's breathing. He was angry, and so were the voices.

"I wouldn't step any closer." The blade pressed in more. Your hand coming up to try and push the blade away. "Your going to drop your blade and walk up to fundy to get handcuffed. Then I'll let her go." You watched as Techno weighed his options. In the end he did drop his blade. He valued your life above everything. Once his hands were tied securely, you were let free. The first thing you did was run to techno. Hugging onto him for dear life.

"(Y/n) listen to me. Your going to go into the house and wait for Philza. Ok?" You looked up at him with pain in your eyes, shaking your head.

"No! Im not letting you go alone!" You started to tear. You didnt know where they were taking him. But you knew it wasn't good.

"(Y/n) I said go in the house. I will be fine.." He manuvered his head to wrap around yours since his arms couldn't. "I don't want you involved ok?..." his tone was gentle, trying to ease your haywire nerves.

"Techno please let me come.." Your eyes begged, but he didnt budge. Quackity only took and shoved Techno further.

"Wait in the House!" Was the final thing he said as he was forced over the Hill.

Waiting for his return had you beyond restless. You could only look from the clock back to the fire. The raging 'What if's running through your brain. It was extremely late before techno had returned back home.

When he opened the door you rushed over to him. Almost tripping over your own feet. To feel him in your arms was the one thing you needed to calm your nerves. You gripped onto him for dear life. His arms gently wrapped around you. Rubbing a ligjt circle into your back.

"Thank god your home" you said. Your face buried into his chest. The lingering sent of dynamite and the iron smell of blood on his clothes. "I was so worried about you..." you felt his hand move to the underside of your thighs. Lifting you up into his arms so he could move inside.

"Come now princess... You didnt really think I would let anything happen to myself, now would you?" He mused. His eyes soft as he looked up into yours.

"I.. I mean" You looked down at him, the bit of worry still remaining. He sat down on his sofa. Leaning back into it as he looked up at you.

"Baby girl, you know Technoblade never dies" He said cocking a eyebrow up as his face went smug. You only smiled a little at that. Moving to rest your head in his neck.

"I still worried..." you said gently. Relaxing into his chest. Glad to see him home safely.

"I know princess... I know" He knew he would have to tell you about the execution. But for now he knew you were distraught. He may have been poor at comforting, but he knew right now the best thing was for you to just lay in his arms at peace. Let you try and forget what Quackity had probably etched into your memory for months to come. Because Quackity was only the start now. Now everyone knew, Techno had someone he truly loved.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Coughing in the Bathroom (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

🌸 Coughing in the Bathroom

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: Slight blood, slight language, slight alcohol, emotional cheating]

Part 2

        In the world you live in, there’s a terrible thing called ‘Hanahaki Disease,’ and while it is ultimately rare, it is still feared widely throughout the globe. Love is an emotional virtually everyone feels, and it is through that monetary softness that the disease may take root. It affects those whose love is unrequited. 

        Five years ago, you never thought you would be under its spell. 

        The first time you met Eyeless Jack was a mess of combined hot headedness and a ‘my horse is bigger than yours’ type of deal. He was so brash and such a know it all! How could you NOT butt heads with him? The two of you spawned a little rivalry, and that rivalry grew to love. 

        How could you not fall in love with him? He’d been everything you’d ever wanted, and in your line of work, that’s hard to find. You’re what’s known as an ‘independent,’ someone who does not work directly under the Slender Man, but often crosses paths with him due to common goals and your abilities. While there is nothing inherently supernatural or otherworldly about you, you do have the gift of clairvoyance. Your clairvoyance isn’t super special, as you’re only prone to glimpses of the future based on current actions and what might (you are the world’s greatest predictor). 

        Jack IS supernatural. He’s not human, calls himself ‘a demon of some sorts.

         The Slender Man saw potential in the two of you from your rivalry and decided to put the two of you together. It was that proximity that led him to falling helplessly, hopelessly, and ardently in love with you. 

        You never saw that coming. 

        Jack had told you he loved you when the two of you had just finished some of the grossest work you’ve done to date. He didn’t want to go back to the safe house the two of you had been holed up in with various other independents and instead urged you to hang out on the roof with him. 

        “Why are you rummaging through their fridge?” You asked, hands resting on your hips with a smile on your lips. 

        “Beer?” He finally asked as he poked his head out from the door. 

        You suppressed a chuckle and threw caution for the night to the wind. “Yeah, sounds good.” 

        With that, Jack tossed you a bottle, before snatching one for himself. Normally, he doesn’t drink, but he felt as if he needed the liquid courage to face you. He felt like he was being obvious with his intentions, but you’d managed to miss every gesture and hint he threw up to this point. If you’re anything like he is, you’re dense. 

        The two of you walked upwards and opened the door to the roof and were greeted by the lights of the city. The two of you don’t spend much time in people cluttered areas, but when you do, you always spend a moment together. He took a seat next to you on one of the lawn chairs hanging around and cracked the drink open, practically gulping it down. 

        “Are you thirsty?” You chuckled before opening your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you down one like that before,” you noted before taking a much smaller sip yourself. 

        Jack shifted uncomfortably for a moment as he took the bottle from his lips. It’s not that he was uncomfortable with you, but he was uncomfortable with the possibility that if you didn’t feel the same way, he could be subjected to the disease that’s claimed the lives of some damn good proxies and independents who fell in love with humans they never had a chance with. He hates getting sick, but he doesn’t think he can handle a broken heart and lungs full of flowers. 

        “No I-,” he took a deep breath. “Reader, I think you’re great.”

        You laughed slightly. “I think you’re great too.”

        Jack shook his head and took another swig before he attempted to speak again. “Not like that, it’s… I’m bad with words,” he sighed, feeling overwhelmed. The man isn’t used to speaking about his feelings. 

        You raised a brow. You know Jack, your Jack, to be someone concise, clear and to the point. He’s not one to fumble over his words. He’s not one to get bashful. You know where this is going, you can see it in your mind’s eye, but you won’t say it because a part of you enjoyed his aversion. “Right now you totally suck at speaking,” you lightly joked, which made him crack the tiniest smile. 

        That’s when he shot you a look. “You already know what I’m trying to say, don’t you?” He deadpanned, eyes narrowed at you slightly in accusation. 

        You let out a laugh and nodded, hand up in submission, “I did,” you giggled. 

        “I swear,” Jack breathed out as he tossed his bottle to the stone floor before he snatched yours and repeated the action. Before you could be surprised, he took you in his arms, his lips pressed to yours in a kiss full of everything he just couldn’t say. 

        Your arms wrapped around him, pleased that he had gotten to the point. 

        Jack has always made your heart flutter. He’s charming, but in his own way. Even though you have future vision to some varying degree, he has never failed to surprise you. For your first anniversary, he had brought you to the most beautiful flower field you’d ever seen. 

        “Have you always known that this was here?” You asked, eyes shining over the field full of lavender, sunflowers, poppies and other wildflowers. The scent rivaled that of the Slender Man’s garden. 

        “I spent the past year cultivating it,” he said as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, his head resting on top of yours. “Thought you’d appreciate it.” 

        “And I’m guessing you built the gazebo too?”

        “Had some help from the proxies. Hoodie is surprisingly good at craftsmanship,” he said with a small chuckle. Jack pressed kisses to the crown of your head. 

        You allow him to sway you as you listen to the birds sing from the surrounding trees. “Is this what you were up to?” You asked. 

        Jack breathed out and shrugged. “A magician never reveals his secrets,” he teased.

        You turned around in his grasp and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hands loosely connected ‘round the back of his neck. “You suck,” you teased, sticking your tongue out before you pressed a kiss to his nose. 

        Jack laughed, his smile rivaling the warmth of the sun. “Thought that was your job,” he mused, making you gasp and smack his chest. He laughed again before you dropped the feigned annoyed attitude and joined him. 

        The rest of your anniversary was held under that gazebo, talking well into the night. 

        When the nights were hard and you were bruised from jobs that were rough, he was always there to pick you back up. You’d come back to the Slender Man’s mansion in need of minor medical attention and had only come to his home because it was close to where you’d gotten banged up. 

        “You can just wait in the waiting room,” a female proxy said as her green eyes scanned you over with little concern. She gestured for you to head down the hall to your left. “You won’t miss it.” It seemed your injuries paled in comparison to the gunshots, knife wounds, musical instruments to the skull and other more hefty injuries. 

        You thanked her with a small smile and then walked down the hall. You’d never really spent extended time in the Slender Man’s mansion; you had no reason to. You didn’t serve directly under him. Still, it was nice to be in something regal looking rather than a dirty field house wondering if the first aid kid was even usable or not. 

        You took a seat once you finally reached the waiting room, displeased to see that there were so many other people - mostly proxies - waiting for service. Some of them looked on the verge of passing out due to blood loss. How had no one attended to them yet? You waited and waited, watching as the more in danger patients were taken in before you finally nodded off. Your dreams were for the most part, empty, but your vision showed you that Jack was here, working. That thought alone was enough to wake you back up. 

        When your eyes reopened, you were overcome with emotions to see Jack in the doorway waiting for you to get up and follow him to the back. You scrambled up from your seat, mindful of not outwardly showing you were in a relationship (the Slender Man detested such bonds) and tried your best to remain cool and level headed. 

        Jack, who wore his mask, showed no signs he had any business with you until he brought you into a secluded room where he could attend to your injuries. The moment the door closed, he took off his mask and looked you over, worry lined on his face. “What’s wrong? Is it serious? O should have seen you sooner. Are you hurt-”

        “Woah, woah,” you tiredly chuckled as you took his rapidly moving hands into yours. “It’s just minor bruises and cuts. Just wanna get them disinfected. I might’ve also sprained my wrist,” you sheepishly admitted. 

        Jack’s face fell again. “Jeeze, I should have seen you earlier,” he muttered to himself, moving around the room to get the supplies he needed. He slapped on his medical gloves again, and then got to work, leaving no part of you untouched. When it stung, he hushed you with words of love. “How did this happen?” He asked quietly. 

        “Alcoholic guy had way more power than I originally expected,” you winced. “I saw the possibility of him throwing me, but not him almost tearing off my wrist by slamming it in a door.” 

        “He what?” Jack growled. 

        “He’s dead now, don’t worry,” you said before you flashed Jack a reassuring look. 

        Jack seemed barely placated by your words and continued working. 

        When he finished working, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave you a look that told you he didn’t want you to leave. 

        “I have to,” you said as you allowed him to snake his arms around you. “I’ll be seeing you soon though, right?” 

        “I’m gonna be stuck in this area for a while,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “And you? You’re leaving Alabama right?” 

        You hesitantly nodded and sighed into him before you took in his scent that instantly calmed you. “Yeah, unfortunately. I have some work calling me out east,” you continued as he tensed in your arms. “Besides, I’m getting the vibe that if I stay much longer, the Slender Man is gonna be pissed at us.” 

        If Jack had eyes, he’d roll them. “I don’t care what he wants or likes,” he replied. That’s not entirely true, but love does weird things to people. “Stay a moment longer.” 

        You did. 

        There were times in your five year relationship that the two of you were split up for extended periods of time mostly on the whims and requests of the Slender Man. Those times you were apart were hard. And unfortunately, the two of you couldn’t actually text or call. Phones, electronics in general, were considered liabilities for people like you due to tracking and everything else. It just wasn’t safe, and BEN can only do so much. 

        Instead, the two of you would write letters to each other and enlist the help of Jeffery’s dog, Smile. Of course, the dog doesn’t always enjoy playing mail-dog, but he does enjoy the treats and favors he gets from the two of you. 

        The fifth year of your relationship with him had been a particularly long, hard separation due to distance. The two of you traded letters weekly via Smile. Everything from little anecdotes to how much you missed each other was shared between them until you got a letter that was calm before the storm. 

        ‘Dear Reader, how have you been? I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write back to you, but Slender has put me on a really weird task. It’s time consuming as all hell and I kinda hate it. I’ve been placed with the proxies for a little while, and they all say ‘hi’ and hope you’re well as much as I do. … I love you, J.’ Of course, interspersed in the letter was a whole treasure trove of everything Jack had been up to. 

        ‘Dear Jack, I’m glad to hear you’re doing alright. I’ve been lighting up the Midwest's farm fields - I don’t know why (I do have my inklings), but the proxies I’m currently with get it. They’re a nice bunch, but the one with a pig mask is kinda mean? Maybe you’ll have to fight him or something. There’s also talk of us converting some people to the proxy side, which is weird because it’s not my territory, but I’ll do what’s asked of me. What’s the task you’re currently up to? I love you, R.’ 

        It had been a few weeks since you got the next letter, and that letter was the beginning of your end. You just didn’t know it yet, and you purposely blinded your future vision to it. 

        ‘Dear Reader, I’m so sorry it took so long to get this letter back to you! I hope I didn’t worry you, but things have once again been really, really busy. In truth, I’m not supposed to tell you about this, but as long as he doesn’t find out… I can trust you with this, but you need to promise you won’t tell anyone else? I suppose it doesn’t matter because the whole of our society is going to be talking about it regardless. We’ve never seen something like this before. Zalgo (may his name burn for all eternity) had a kid, right? They call her Leia and she’s been causing a storm of issues for the tall man. We got a hold of her and she’s been under our watch since. She’s powerful, I’ll give her that. In a way, it’s admirable, but she’s also Slender’s biggest threat. The weirdest thing? She willingly gave herself up to us because she’s got daddy issues. Can you believe that? Zalgo’s favorite kid has daddy issues. She’s naturally murderous towards proxies so Masky, Toby, Hoodie and Kate have to be extra mindful of her. For the most part, she’s with me. We talk a lot, but I have no idea if I can trust her. She’s a great conversationalist though - nothing like her father. She doesn’t look anything like him either (you have seen his human form, right?) In fact, nothing about her screams spawn of Zalgo. She looks… normal, if that’s the right word. Other than that, her attitude reminds me of you. Funny, right? She asks about you every now and then, which is odd because I try not to mention you unless it’s with Hoodie. Hoodie says hi, by extension. She seems to not like you despite having never met you, which is also incredibly strange as she’s been nothing but kind to me and the proxies (despite her trying to kill them when her instincts take over). I digress, and I miss you. I love you, J.’ 

        You’d read that letter over so many times poking and prodding it. The energy didn’t feel right, and your mind had shown you glimpses of what was to come. But of course, still in love with him, you acted like nothing was wrong and the future you had seen wasn’t absolute. 

        The first time you met Leia was largely an accident. A short while after you’d gotten that letter from Jack, you ‘swung by’ the area he was in and decided on a surprise visit. You knew Masky well enough, and the proxy had never been angry with you for visiting prior to. What difference would this one have been?

        You knocked on the door in a way that only Masky would recognize to be greeted by the unmasked proxy. 

        “You’re here for him, aren’t you?” He asked, a tired smile coming onto his lips. 

        You nodded excitedly. “Where is he?” 

        “Back room, with uh-”

        “She already knows,” both Hoodie and Kate said in unison as they barely spared a glance over their shoulders from the terrible movie playing on Lifetime. 

        Masky shot a slight glare towards his teammates but relented and moved aside in the doorway. “Have fun,” he said as you stepped inside. “Don’t do anything stupid and if you do, do so quietly?” 

        You slapped Masky’s shoulder and walked down the hall. You took a brief moment to wave to Toby who was reading something in one of the rooms before you reached the end where you heard laughter. To be polite, you knocked on the door, and to your surprise, it was not Jack who answered the door. 

        There she stood with long silver hair and the most alluring blue eyes you’d ever seen, her skin as warm as the cinnamon that floated on top of hot chocolate in the winter. She gave you a sickly saccharine smile before she turned her head over her shoulder to address Jack, “Reader is here,” she giggled. 

        You bit back a grimace but smiled when Jack got up and gently moved Leia aside in the doorframe to greet you. 

        “It’s so good to see you,” he said as he took you into his arms before he crushed you in his grip. “How have you been?” He whispered in your ear before he peppered your face with kisses. 

        You wished you could have enjoyed the moment as you laughed in his arms, but your eyes fluttered open for just a moment to see Leia’s unamused expression. “I’m okay,” you replied in a tone lacking the enthusiasm Jack expected to hear. 

        “Are you sure?” He asked as he checked you over to ensure you physical self was safe. His hands cupped your cheeks as you were forced to look up at him. 

        “Of course,” you replied in an attempt to play it cool. 

        “If you say so,” he trailed off before taking your hand in his and leading you to sit next to him on the bed. 

        From there, the world’s most awkward conversation took place between Jack and Leia with you attempting to cut in every once and a while. You saw it in little glimpses. 

        Her eyes never left his sockets, and he allowed it. 

        When her hand touched his knee, he made no motion to move it. 

        When she laughed, he smiled in a way that only you had been used to seeing. 

        He talked with her with so many inside jokes, you felt as if you were just peeking in on someone else’s conversation, not one you were invited to.

        Gradually, through the hour, he’d moved closer to her than he had you. While his arm remained loosely wrapped around your waist, he’d leaned forward to hear her better. He watched her interaction first after he shared a story. His focus was on her. You’d left his field of vision. 

        A few weeks into your fifth year was all it took. 

        Things did not get any easier from there. Eventually, you were moved to helping the group in regards to Leia. According to Slender, it was to ‘protect her’ from her father and her now murderous siblings. That’s when the rift grew wider, and the roots took hold. 

        See, after that first in person interaction with Leia, you’d felt a scratchiness in your lungs. At first, you chalked it up to being under the weather, but after being moved to Masky’s group, you knew nothing would ever be the same. Your worst fear had come true, and all it took was a pair of blue eyes. 

        Physically, Jack was still yours. He’d hold you, kiss you and touch you like you were still his. He never physically left your side, nor did his flesh betray your relationship. No, it was something much deeper than that that brought about the sprouts that took hold in your lungs. 

        Emotionally, he’d left you the moment he laid sockets on her. Why did he give in so easily? Who knows - boredom? A premature seven year itch? You’re not sure. But you saw it - you saw his heart leave the space it once shared with you and take up residence with hers, and it was painful. So, so painful. 

        He looked at her like she owned the moon and commanded the tides. 

        He smiled at her in a way he used to smile with you. 

        He spoke to her in a tone so gentle, you assumed he’d only used it for you. 

        He spoke with you less frequently, and when he did, it was much shorter and to the point. Whenever you prodded him, he had chalked it up to being stressed and that of course, he still loved you. 

        “You’re just being paranoid.” 

        He told her things you’d never even scratched the surface of. 

        She viewed him as hers. 

        And he allowed it without leaving the safety net that was you. 

        Of course, this did not go unnoticed by the proxies. None of them wanted to get directly involved though. 

        Hoodie was amongst the most disturbed as he was usually the first to call out Jack’s bullshit and the first proxy to inquire about you and your wellbeing. Despite not spending any time with you, Hoodie viewed you as a good friend. 

        "You realize what you're doing isn't cool, right?" Hoodie said as he walked back to the temp house with Jack. 

        "I'm not doing anything," Jack replied. "This about Leia?"

        "No, it's about Pennywise we met last year - of course it's about Leia," Hoodie hissed as he rolled his eyes. "You're digging a hole you won't be able to get back out of. You know that, right?"

        Jack lightly shoved Hoodie's shoulder in response. He was uncomfortable with what Hoodie had insinuated, mostly because Hoodie's BS meter is never far off the mark and normally strikes true. But when he entered that house and saw Leia sitting at the table, he couldn't help but take his place at her side. 

        Perhaps Kate just believes in girl code, but as a fellow being under the Slender Man’s control, she’s got her eye out for you. She believed wholeheartedly that what Jack was doing was scummy, but of course, her focus is on you. It came in mugs of hot chocolate and late night living room talks. She cares, just quietly. 

        "Don't overwork yourself, okay?" She said softly as she draped a blanket around your shoulders. 

        You'd been nodding off much more in the living room than in the room you shared with Jack. "What?" You said sleepily. 

        Kate chuckled softly and let you rest your head on her lap. "Turn your brain off for a while with me and let's watch this gods awful movie." Anything to get your mind off of what's going on and if this movie does it for you, that's good enough for the moment. 

        "Yes, ma'am," you tiredly rib, a smile on your lips. 

        Toby is inexperienced when it comes to these things. He was the first person to find you hacking up forget-me-nots. That was a scary experience as he’s never seen the Hanahaki before. He’s too young and too inexperienced, where would he have seen it? 

        He can distinctly remember walking with you, patrolling the area for threats when you suddenly stopped. It’d been a few months of you in his group's care, and he’d seen you retreat into yourself the longer Jack spent time with Leia. He knew it, just didn’t know how to go about it. 

        “What’s w-w-wrong?” He asked. 

        You waved for him to go on. “I’m fine-” you tried to wheeze out before you began violently coughing. 

        Toby initially thought you were going through what Masky did. He’s handled that before and naively thought he could help you until he rushed to your side to see the small forming pile of blue flowers covered sparsely in drops of blood. “Oh n-n-no,” he whispered as he knelt at your side. He held you like you were glass. “R-Reader-”

        “I said I’m fine!” You tried to reason before coughing once more, this time more blood than cursed flower. 

        “Does t-t-this look f-f-fine to you?” He asked in stress and worry. “We n-need to t-t-tell M-Masky or J-Ja-”

        “No,” you coldly cut off as you wiped your mouth of the blood that dribbled down your chin. 

        Toby wanted to fight that notion badly, but instead focused on getting you back safe. “I-I’ll tell M-Masky we s-saw some n-n-not deer on t-the p-property,” he murmured as he carefully picked you back up. 

        You allowed him. 

        Masky knew the moment you walked back into the temp house with Toby holding you as inconspicuous as he could. It’s unfortunate, he thinks, because he knows what that’s like - to love someone and physically suffer because of it. 

        One day, he’d sent everyone out of the house except for you and urged you to sit down and have some apple cider with him to ‘celebrate’ his favorite season, fall. 

        “Let’s not beat around the bush,” he began. “You’ve got it.”

        You shifted uncomfortably and averted your gaze from his and chose to look into your apple cider than his eyes. “What?”

        “Reader,” Masky sighed as he sat up in his seat. “Please…”

        “It’s not that serious,” you attempted to retort. “It’s not… It’s not that bad.”

        “You’re delusional,” Masky said. “I saw the flowers in the trash bin.”

        You rolled your eyes but crossed your arms over your chest anyways in an attempt to soothe yourself. 

        “You know what happens, right?” He continued, leaning forward. “It either takes you or you get the surgery done.” 

        A pregnant pause passes before you reluctantly speak. 

        “Is… Is it really that bad?” 

        Masky nodded, “From experience? Yeah,” he mumbled. 

        You gave him a look of both sympathy and intrigue. 

        “The Operator forced me to get the surgery,” he admitted. 

        You look into his eyes and see for the first time that he’s empty. His dark brown eyes, that are full of amiability, protective nature, it’s all a front. He doesn’t actually feel that way - it is what is expected of him, but he is hollow. 

        “What happened?” You asked shyly, unsure if that’s too sensitive or not. 

        “I don’t quite remember as that’s an outcome of having the surgery,” Masky hummed. “But I remember that I loved him- I don’t feel it, obviously - but I remember that I loved him more than anything, would’ve moved mountains for him, and then he died,” he sounded vaguely perturbed by the words, but they did not reach his heart. “I think his name was Jay.” 

        You felt something pierce your heart, but it was interrupted by the flowers in your lungs blooming through your mouth. 

        Masky held you as you coughed petals and blood in the bathtub. 

        You promised Masky you were going to speak things over with Jack. You promised you were going to solve this. But when he spoke to you with his empty words coated in honey, the pain became too much to bear. It hurt. Seeing him hurt. Hearing him hurt.

        “Jack?” You ask quietly, slowly sitting up in the bed you shared with him, much too used to his arms not being slinked around your form by this point. 

        He roused slightly in the bed before he opened his eyes. “Yeah? What’s up?” He asks, a slight bite in his voice from being woken up. 

        “Can we talk about something?” 

        “Can’t it wait?” He sighs in a slightly exasperated tone. 

        You shake your head, and through the darkness, Jack’s form sloughs in defeat. 

        “What is it?” He asks. 

        “Are we okay?”

        “Of course we’re okay.”

        “Are you sure?”

        “Yes.”

        “Do you love me?” 

        “I love you more than anything,” he replies, hand gripping yours. 

        He feels like ice. 

        “And what about Leia?”

        “She’s a really good friend of mine.”

        He suddenly feels warm. 

        “I’m sorry for waking you.” 

        “It’s nothing, now go to sleep, baby. We can talk about this in the morning,” he says with a small yawn before falling back into the comfort of slumber. 

        Your other hand at this point, has wrapped over your mouth to stifle the sounds of silence and the threat of flowers crawling up from your esophagus. You suffer in silence for a few minutes until you’re certain he’s asleep, then quietly excuse yourself to the bathroom. 

        You begin to cough as softly as you can, not wanting to be a burden to anyone in the house as forget-me-nots begin to fill up the sink. Blood splatters on the porcelain as well as the mirror. Your eyes are full of tears. You feel cold, much too cold. 

        As you continue to empty your lungs in vain, the light flicks on. You’re in too much pain and absorbed in velvety petals to realize it at first. 

        “I thought I told you to handle this,” Masky’s exhausted voice chides gently, his eyes dipping to the mess you’ve left in the basin of the sink. 

        You grip the edge of the sink before hacking up the rest of what the garden in your lungs has to offer before slinking down to the tile floor, utterly exhausted. “Turn the light off,” you whisper. Your back rests against the tub. 

        Masky does as you ask, allowing the moonlight to overtake as the main source of light in the small bathroom. His shoulders sag slightly as he joins you on this floor, his arm around your shoulders. “Get some sleep,” he says softly, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. 

        You smile softly as the flowers continue to clog up your lungs. It looks like another fit is coming. 

        “Just let it pass,” he murmurs softly into your ear, his head resting loosely on top of yours as you attempt to suppress the flowers from reemerging. “It’ll be over soon.” 

        You move your eyes to look at his profile before you take in the scent of cigarettes. You continue to feel your lungs grow heavy with blossoms when you hear Leia’s door open. Her steps pad quietly along the wooden floor as she crosses the hall to the room you used to share with Jack. “You promise?” You manage to choke out before stifling your coughs as quietly as you can. Your eyelids are growing heavier. You can hear your heartbeat through your chest to the hallways of your ears. Leia has slipped into bed with Jack. You hear him shift. He’s holding her now. 

        “I promise,” he says gently, holding you just a little tighter. 

        You close your eyes and listen to Masky hum, hoping sleep washes over you soon.

[bonniebird]

If you asked nicely

Reader x Mikaelsons

Requested by Anon

When you had fallen asleep Elijah had been neatly sat in one of the chairs in the corner of your room. He was softly reading some old book you’d never heard of. He had come in the angry wake of Klaus.

To his credit Klaus had tried for a day to coax you out of bed, soothing and fussing. He wouldn’t listen when you exclaimed you just want to be left alone for a day. To sleep until you roused only from your body being incapable of sleeping any longer. He had relented when he realised nothing he did would get you up. Not daring to move lest you catch the attention of one of your predatory protectors you stayed still. Hoping for more sleep. You just felt more tired now.

Something twitched the edge of your duvet and before you could decide between snapping your eyes shut and feigning sleep or glaring down whoever dared to disturb you and a new face peaked at you. “Hello Darling!” Kol said cheerfully. He smiled, shoving himself partly under the duvet and looked around as if he was appraising your docile cave. “I thought it sounded like you were awake. Elijah said not to disturb you. Apparently you gave Klaus quite the hard time.”

Amusement played with his face as he watched you. He received a frown. Not one of anger but more one you’d get if you suddenly roused someone with something delightful. You sighed, frowned and turned your head so you wouldn't have to look at him but by the time you’d done it, he’d rounded the bed and tucked his head under the duvet on the other side.

“Come on now love, don’t be like this! You’re no fun when you’re sleepy.” Kol teased before raising his eyebrows and adding. “I suppose it’s best you got Elijah helping you sleep last night, when Klaus helps you sleep… it’s a pain.” He smiled and rubbed his chest, wincing. You tried not to laugh knowing he was joking about the daggers. When he got a snicker out of you he beamed with delight.

“Kol! Brother are you pestering (Y/N)?” Elijah called from somewhere. Fake panic took over Kol’s face as he froze and leant up. Tugging the duvet up with him, letting a fresh breeze brush at your skin.

“How could you say such a thing brother! I do not pester… I seduce and intrigue, some think I’m a delight!” As he spoke he playfully wiggled his eyebrows and smirked. His eyes lit up as he heard the bubble of laughter you’d been holding onto escaped, bursting past your lips in peels of laughter that had you tearfully rolling in your bed in a fit of giggles.

“Yes! I did it!” Kol cheered, throwing his hands up victoriously. He cheered to himself, your duvet helplessly flopped across the room, making a last ditch attempt to cling to you as it defeatedly slipped to the floor.

“You didn't do anything!” You said through giggles the laughter ebbing away.

“Hey if you didn’t get out from under that blanket they were going to send in Rebekah.

“She would have just joined me and said it was a girl thing.” You pointed out knowingly. Kol gave you an agreeing nod as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“So what now, you’re free of that.” He said cast a gesture to your piled duvet on the floor. “Elijah is making enough food to kill a man. Honestly there isn’t any space in the kitchen. Klaus has been painting pictures for you since yesterday and Rebekah was gathering supplies so you two could take to the bed in an appropriately aesthetic manner.” He mimicked Rebekah’s voice for the last few words and you giggled again.

“Food sounds nice. I should probably shower though.” You said as you sighed.

He hopped up and your eyes widened when he started to undress. “Right let's get in the shower.” He said until he caught your eyes. He flashed you a smile and paused.

“I need a shower… not you!” You said quickly, finally sitting up and trying to tame your hair a little. “I might need a shower! You don’t know where I’ve been!”

“I suppose that’s true.” You mused. He watched your brow furrow as if you were mulling over where he could have been that day. Your attention was snatched back when you moved in a blur. You were whizzed past Elijah who dropped his plate he’d brought up for you. Though you were sure Kol had knocked it out of his hand on purpose.

“Brother!” He snapped sharply.

“Brother?” Kol answered in a tone that would definitely rile Elijah. Kol focused on fixing the water in the shower which made Elijah rap on the door several times.

He gestured for you to get into the water but you frowned at him. “Aren’t you going to leave?” You asked and he shrugged.

“If you’d like. I thought I’d help you wash your hair.” He paused and rolled his eyes. “It was something that was done as… a show of affection. Elijah’s still right there and I’ll keep my underwear on!” He gestured to his boxers and then to the door. “Elijah?”

“Yes Kol.” Elijah said in an unamused tone. You tried to hold back another laugh at the sound of his voice.

“See, a perfectly friendly shower.” Kol said giving you his best innocent look that gave a more dubious expression.

“What’ll I wear?” you pointed out and he shrugged.

“I won’t look at you if you like. But I’m a thousand or so. I’ve seen a lot.” he said as he stuck his hand under the running water, satisfied it was a good enough temperature he stepped in.

“You’ve seen a lot or you’ve seen a lot of naked people?” You asked curiously as you decided to undress. It would be nice to have someone do your hair for a change.

“Both?” Kol said as he, to his word, closed his eyes until you’d gotten in. “Women did find me rather irresistible back in the day.” He said as he brushed his fingers through your hair until it was damp enough to add the shampoo.

“Back in the day?”

“Well, I got a bit out of swing when I spent a few hundred years in a box, not much room for seduction in a coffin.”

He chuckled when you spluttered out a laugh as if his comment had caught you off guard. Kol’s fingers were soft and gentle. More gentle than you’d thought a vampire capable of. If you weren’t quite so intimidated by his near nudity you would have been lulled into relaxation, so much so that you could have leant against him and closed your eyes.

The shampoo smelled different and glancing at the bottle Kol had set on the shower shelf you realised it was a brand new bottle, an expensive looking brand that you hadn’t heard off before. You assumed it would have either been from Elijah or sent over by Rebekah.

For a while there was silence as Kol massaged the suds into your roots and rinsed it out, continuing to massage your scalp and neck. “You know. Affection really is wasted on modern humans.” Kol said thoughtfully as he reached for a second bottle. “The fun that could be had if you all let go just a little.”

“If every human let go we’d all be like Elena. Vampire lovers on rotation.” You said quietly. His hands stilled for a moment as he raised his eyebrows. When you glanced over your shoulder at him he chuckled.

“Careful darling. Glass houses and all that.” He said playfully as he rinsed the final suds out of your hair. “You could have four Mikaelson if you asked nicely.”

He grinned when you elbowed him gently and spluttered a little. With the gentlest brush of a kiss to your shoulder he got out of the shower, leaving to finish your shower as he deliberately dripped as much water on the floor as he could. He cracked the door open and snatched the towels that Elijah was holding out for him. He could see Klaus lurking behind Elijah and grinned. He didn’t envy Elijah for having to deal with Klaus’ grumpy mood.

“Come on then darling, you must be starved.” Kol hummed out as he unfolded teh warm, fluffy towel. It was definitely one from the Mikaelson's home. It was massive enough for you to step into it and have it wrapped around you at least twice.

When Elijah saw the state of the bathroom he sighed and glared at a gleeful Kol who bowed mockingly. Klaus bickered with Kol as you were escorted to your bedroom which had been tidied and your bed made with fresh sheets. Rebekah was sprawled over them with a pile of new pajamas beside her. “Off you go now!” She insisted once Kol was near the doorway. Both he and Klaus found the door slammed in their faces as she took a turn at fussing you. She fixed your hair and produced so many creams and powders and moisturisers your small desk was almost completely covered in little bottles. Once she was satisfied she’d fussed you enough you were relinquished into Elijah’s care to be escorted to your kitchen. You noticed everywhere was a lot cleaner and suddenly all the odd jobs that needed doing were done.

“You didn’t all have to make a fuss.” You said quietly to Elijah who smiled.

“Nonsense.” He muttered back with an endeared affection.

Kol hadn’t been kidding about the amount of food in your kitchen. Even if you invited the gang round there would be too much for you all to eat. You gave Elijah a grateful smile as he pulled out your chair and helped you sit. He must have been worried to cook so much. You hadn’t meant to worry them. You’d just felt so exhausted by everything going on in Mystic falls.

As you sat you noticed sweet paintings of plants and flowers adorned your kitchen walls. Klaus’ touch there was no doubt and you smiled as you looked at them. “Rebekah said renovating the kitchen was a bit much. So I settled for decorating.” Klaus said as he took a seat beside you. He admired the way you appreciated his work.

“Thank you. All of you. I feel much better.” you said with a smile. The stress of the chaos going on had ebbed enough for you to feel energized again. The Mikaelsons had gathered in the kitchen and all smiled as you beamed for them.

“Well, I have to apologise. If I had known looking at my beautiful face would be the thing to get you out of bed after a few days. I would have arrived earlier.” Kol said. You shared a daring look together as Rebekah groaned and helped herself to some food. Elijah rolled his eyes and tutted while Klaus growled quietly from beside you. Trying to hide a laugh you opted to stuff your mouth full with the food that had been carefully set before you.

[shoichee]

Rose-Tinted

Craving for angst with kise please!! Like both are afraid to act on their feelings which ends up hurting the both of them unconsciously. Idk, maybe kise is trying to “test” the girl, but went a bit too far i guess. Whatever floats your boat!! I just want angst but maybe hopefully still HEA in the end (or whichever your muse takes you) ;-; thank youu ❤️

Kise x Reader

Word Count: 6975

Note: oh my GOD, HELP THIS WAS 17 PAGES ON MY GOOGLE DOC I COULDNT STOP MYSELF………. angst, happy ending, fake dating!au, mean old kise ….. girl idk WHAT I WROTE I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT ????? reader POV first half and kise POV second half~

@knb-kreations

»»—————　☼　—————««

He holds you so gently, the touch so feather-light as he cradles your head and dips his own head in for a soft peck. The warmth of his lips makes you feel things you shouldn’t feel, things that you still chased for more in a never-ending cycle. You hold onto his hands thumbing your temples to try to anchor yourself further into the bliss, but it ends all too soon when he separates from you and gives you a radiant smile.

You were rudely pulled out of your rose-tinted trance when you heard gasps and chatter amongst the gawking students nearby, particularly Kise’s fans. He doesn’t pay any mind to their reactions and turns his friendly demeanor towards them.

“So you see everyone,” he cheerfully says. “I’m sorry I can’t accept any of your affections, as much as it flatters me so… after all, I have my dear (y/n)-cchi by my side!”

Groans and cries rung throughout the campus as most wail about missing out the opportunity to be Kise’s romantic partner, but before you can listen to their laments, Kise hurriedly tugs you away to the privacy of the back of a building nearby, away from prying eyes and ears. He drops your wrist just as fast and yawns with a stretch.

“What time should we meet up tomorrow?” he casually says, taking out his phone from his pocket.

“Huh?”

“Well, we can’t exactly sell our image of us being a couple unless we walk to and from school together consistently, right (y/n)?”

The rose-tinted lenses on your self-indulgent fantasy shatters to the ground instantly. You gulp, the swallowed spit hitting down to your stomach in heavy dread, where it was previously occupied by fluttering butterflies just moments prior.

This isn’t real.

“Ah… um,” you hesitated, thinking of a reasonable time, so you can wake up and get ready accordingly. “How about this time…”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he replies, shutting off his phone before he walks a few steps away from you but then stopping. “Huh, uh… should I walk you home first? There might be some nosy people around, and we might as well get some practice in as an official couple.”

“W-Why don’t we start tomorrow morning instead?” you suggest. “A lot’s happened today, and well, I wanna have some time to myself.” Kise impassively stares at you for a couple of seconds before he forms a grin.

“Ah ha, well then, (y/n)-cchi,” he shouts jovially, making sure that his voice rang throughout the area for anyone nearby to hear. “I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow morning, my love!”

“Y-Yeah…” you mumbled, your hand held up in a half-hearted wave. “See you…”

With that parting, you turned to the opposite direction to exit through the side gates to get to your home. Your mind scrambles to recall the impulsive decisions you decided to take on a whim today. The grip on your bag tightens as you finally realized what sort of situation you got yourself into.

You like Kise, plain and simple. You’ve always gazed longingly at him whenever his presence entered within your line of vision. You couldn’t even fault his fans for being so whipped for the basketball player in the first place, not when you felt like you were more enthralled by him than anyone else. So what does a love-stricken fool like you do when the source of attraction directly asks you to partake in a “relationship?” You immediately accept his conditional proposal on auto-pilot before he barely finishes his sentence.

It felt so wrong, yet so right. How can you hate this arrangement when you enjoyed that first kiss you shared with Kise earlier? But how can you love this arrangement when you knew Kise only kissed you to drive everyone off? You stopped on the sidewalk and heaved a huge exhale, and you continued to walk again, the action not even remotely able to clear your head. Your mind continues to swirl and race.

You agreed to this. He even laid out his intentions very clearly to you, and he was more than ready to leave you alone if you didn’t consent to this. But stupid, desperate you did. You were ashamed to feel even a shred of flattery when he told you that you were the only one he can ask to drive off his fans in this only effective method: a relationship.

“Why me?” you said, looking up at his casual posture. “Don’t you have someone you like to ask to be in a relationship? I’m sure they’d be more than happy to accept you…”

“Well,” he mumbled. “I don’t really have someone in mind… you’re kinda the only one who doesn’t drool over me whenever I’m near, and I just ought to ask for your help.”

“W-Well,” you slightly stammered. “I’m okay with helping you, right, so…”

“This isn’t something to accept so readily, you know,” he said, raising a brow. “I know this is super sudden, and it wouldn’t be fair for me to force an answer out of you right at this moment. Besides, I don’t think there’s any incentive for you to be in this either? It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“N-No!” you interrupted, but you coughed to regain your composure. “I mean, I do have something in this… maybe if I got with you, people would stop trying to harass and tease me if I had someone like you by my side.” That was a half-truth, but you knew there was no way you could reveal your crush to him… not when he believed you were “different” from the others. But can anyone blame you for sticking up for Kise when someone was talking about him like a piece of meat rather than a normal person? “Besides, for you to get to this point, things must’ve gotten too chaotic to simply tell them to stop, right?”

“Huh… is that so,” he said, stretching his neck, but you didn’t know whether or not he intentionally ignored your last question. “Well, if you’re fine with this, I’m letting you know now that we’ll be doing actual couple stuff, like…” He pauses for a second to gauge your reaction. “Hugging, hand-holding… probably kissing too…”

“Y-Yeah,” you nodded. “That’s fine with me! And we’ll have a code word in case either of us overstep our boundaries in any way… maybe…”

“Unagi,” he said.

“Huh? Why?”

“Because they’re the bane of evil…”

“It’s just a dish, but…” you laughed, giddy at how he already showed a different side to you apart from his cool persona. “Alright, let’s go with that.”

How long were you able to keep this up? You pat yourself on the cheeks to dismiss the rest of your fantasies. If you keep this up, Kise will soon notice how you actually were head-over-heels for him all this time, and surely you’ll lose any future chance with him. Besides, maybe you can use this unique arrangement to learn about Kise and his hobbies other than basketball. Yes, you tell yourself, jogging the rest of the way home. It won’t be so bad, after all.

———

Starting today, you’ll be officially dating Kise.

That’s how it is on paper, anyways.

How are you supposed to act while dating the Kise Ryōta? Equally cool and flamboyant? Athletically capable? Would you weird out Kise if you were the one initiating physical affection?

“(y/n)!”

You flinch, not expecting anyone to call for you so early in the morning, and your walking route to school was never shared with another student as far as you were concerned. After all, your path was a little more obscured and unorthodox compared to the majority of students traversing the main neighborhood paths.

“Sorry… did I scare you?” You stop and turn to the source of the voice, only to be surprised when you see Kise himself. “Why do you look so surprised? Didn’t we agree on the time to meet up and walk to school together?”

“Oh… yeah…” In the midst of your thoughts, it seems that you forgot the arrangements you made with him yesterday evening. “My bad?”

“Oh, come on,” he gives a mock-hurt face with a hand to his chest. “Am I that forgettable, (y/n)?”

“N-No!” you immediately deny. You knew it was more like the other way around, the way constant thoughts of Kise preoccupy in your head too much. How can you ever forget him when he constantly runs through your mind everyday for so long? Kise merely gives a good-natured sigh before he changes the subject.

“Kidding,” he says, holding out a hand to you. “Seriously though, get your act together. We gotta start acting the part if we want this to work.” You stare at his hand, hesitating for a split moment before you put your own hand on top. His large hand easily encompasses yours, and the warmth makes you widen your eyes. It… felt nice.

You were so entranced by your linked hands that you failed to notice how Kise was staring at your face with a sharp glint in his eyes, but when you look up back to his face, he easily morphs his expression into his signature grin. He swings your hands around like an excited kid and turns to walk ahead to tug you along.

“Alrighty!~ Let’s hurry together before I get chewed out by Kasamatsu-senpai!”

“Kise, have you ever considered that it’s not really your tardiness that gets the captain mad but more so about the way you seem to irritate him with the way you skip around?”

“(y/n),” he says with a pout, “you know you’re not being convincing when you use my last name to address me as your boyfriend.”

“R-Right,” you stammer, still not used to the entire situation. “Ah… wait. Don’t you uh… call people who are close to you with -cchi?”

“Huh…” he mumbles, looking up at the cloudy sky before looking ahead of the path. “Not necessarily people who are close, just people who I really admire. I guess I addressed you like that yesterday without really thinking.”

“U-Uh, right… sorry.” He stops walking with your hand still in tow, and you almost bumped into his back at his sudden movement. He turns to you with a quite serious look.

“Do you want me to call you that?”

It was a normal question, but for some reason it felt like the next sentence coming from your mouth would make a huge impact on the way the two of you would interact in the future. From the way Kise looks at you with such a scrutinizing gaze, it feels like a trick question, and you’re not sure how to answer it. Your mouth goes dry when you try to reply.

“I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Kise’s eyes widen a fraction before he gives an unexpected chortle. “Pfft… how do you not know what you want to be addressed as?”

“Arrgh, oh shut it!” you frown, hitting his arm in a fluster before stalking off ahead. You remember that you were supposed to go to school together, and you begrudgingly stop and turn back to wait for him to catch up. “Ryōta, just call me whatever you want. You’re already calling me by my first name, so I doubt anyone would care if you added -cchi or not.” Still, your cheeks turn pink at the realization that Kise would be uttering your first name for the next couple… whenever this relationship will last.

“You… wait up!” Kise wheezes dramatically, despite the both of you knowing full well how easily he can catch up to your stride. “You really shouldn’t be treating your boyfriend like that! Especially on the first day!” Kise holds your hand again to lead you to the rest of the way to school.

All the while, you’ve been staring at his back, your heartstrings being tugged so mercilessly at the cacophony of emotions you were feeling the whole time. He felt so warm, so inviting, but the way he held your hands felt cold and transactional.

———

You’re not sure how to react whenever Kise introduced himself as your “boyfriend” to everyone or whenever nosy students inquired about your new “boyfriend.” All you could do was gulp and manage the most convincing act you could do within different contexts. Smile, laugh, get bashful, be modest in talking about how Kise managed to “like” you, pretend you know many embarrassing stories and sides to him that no one else did. Truthfully, you were just as in the dark as anybody else.

You think the only reason why everyone bought the couple-act was due to how enamored you were in talking about him. This was the only response you could be truthful about. At least you could use your huge crush to your advantage in portraying yourself as the “lovey-dovey” half of the couple. Yet it feels unbelievably wrong.

You knew you had to prepare yourself some preset answers for curious students, but you didn’t expect yourself to be participating in neverending “interviews” in these social settings. You thought this relationship would entail a closer access to Kise’s true self, but things suggest otherwise.

“Ryōta,” you say, peering up at his face as the both of you walk down the hallway to your designated spot for lunch together. Even as you two walk, he puts a reasonable distance between the two of you when there is no one in close proximity. Even when you two are together, he only grabs your hand when it’s socially convenient. Even when Kise approaches you to talk, you know it’s never anything beyond for the sake of acting. And you agreed to this entire thing.

“Hm?” He spares a glance to your figure before returning his gaze ahead.

“Uh, I brought extra food today,” you say, trying to use this situation to try to express your genuine feelings to him in small increments. “I brought an extra bento box too… in case, you don’t wanna actually share one…” He was about to reply before a pair of students turned around the corner to head towards your direction. Kise narrows his eyes at the unexpected turn of events, and immediately turns to you brightly.

“(y/n)! You really thought that I wouldn’t like the idea?” he pouts. “Of course I wanna share a bento with you! Silly…” He slightly bends to your level to place a chaste peck on your forehead.

“Ah…” you freeze at his soft touch, your legs stiff in place as you stop walking. Kise, in response, moves his lips to your ears, and you slightly shiver at the unexpected intimacy… it was the closest he’s gotten to you ever since that public stunt when he kissed you in front of everyone the other day.

“Hey, don’t just stand there… you can’t overreact like this over something couples do everyday.” You bit your lip in an attempt to stop your heart from sinking from disappointment, but in turning your face to him to spill an apology, your face ended up right in front of his. Your eyes widen but he only stares at you with such an intensity that makes you hold your breath in anticipation.

But he immediately draws away and stretches with a yawn. “Looks like those people left right after they thought they intruded on a private moment between us,” he says. “Sheesh, people really do the most to be so nosy nowadays.” You wonder how he can be so casual about this all. Perhaps it was a mistake to be here like this when you were so in love with him, overthinking every single thing he did.

Why didn’t he kiss you this time? Did he not find you the teensiest attractive enough to want to kiss you even without an audience nearby?

“Come on,” he mumbles, waving a hand through your face. “Quit making that face. I won’t be doing that to you without warning anytime soon. My bad, okay?” Kise sheepishly holds out a hand for a handshake to make peace, and you wordlessly take his hand. One day, you’ll stop being his special someone to savor his warmth…

No, you thought, you’re an idiot… he’s never considered you as someone special.

You debated in telling him that you were fine with him kissing you, but you hold your tongue, afraid that he’ll realize your true feelings about him. Besides, were you really okay with him kissing you when he didn’t reciprocate the same feelings?

“It… wasn’t like what you think,” you hesitate. “It just caught me off guard.”

“Well,” he laughs. “That’s a relief! By the way…” He stops to settle himself on the bench. “What’s exactly your lunch? Since you went through the effort to bring extras, I guess I’ll eat them.”

“I packed salmon from leftovers I had from home,” you reply, taking out your bento box and utensils. You decide to shake off your negative thoughts and shove them to the back of your mind. He makes a horrified face at the lunchbox. “Kise, what’s wrong?”

“Do you… happen to have anything else packed?”

“Rice?”

“Well,” he coughs. “I’m not a fan of dishes with boned fish.”

“Didn’t you say you hated unagi too?” Kise shyly averts his gaze before he reluctantly confirms it so. “They’re delicious though! Especially when they’re grilled!” At first, he refused to answer, but the more you tried to poke and prod (literally too, at his ribs), he finally gave in.

“Alright, alright! But I swear, you better not tell anyone!… I choked on a fish bone one time…”

“… And?”

“And yeah.”

“You choked on a bone once and you got scared out of eating fish—”

“Shhhh!” he hushes, emphasizing his hiss with a finger to his lips. At this very moment, you saw a glimpse into who Kise really is, and you can’t help but bust out a genuine, carefree laugh for the first time in front of him. In embarrassment, he bonks your head with his fist to get you to stop laughing, but it only makes you more conscious of how close he is to you.

But just as quickly and telepathically, Kise puts some distance between the two of you, sitting closer to the edge of the bench. He opts to hunch over casually and keenly watch you scarf down your meal in minutes without a care.

You wonder if you should feel guilty for enjoying this moment with Kise, even if he was only waiting with you out of obligation of being your “boyfriend,” but right now, you allowed yourself to indulge, letting your heart beat sporadically without guilt and fear for once. You continue to savor your lunch in silence, concentrating on munching around the fish bones, while Kise sat in contemplation all the while.

———

“You should come watch our practice game today, (y/n).”

“Eh?”

You tilt your head at him in confusion. It’s been two weeks since you started this arrangement with him, but nothing extraordinary or groundbreaking happened between the two of you, much to your despondency. But you knew, you shouldn’t be asking for too much when you already have the once-in-a-lifetime chance to be close to him like this.

“There’s going to be a lot of people coming,” he explains. “Even if it’s just a practice game… it’d be weird if you weren’t there, because, you know, we’re dating.”

“I don’t mind going,” you reply. “It sounds fun.”

“You know, you’ve been agreeing to everything I’ve been suggesting the entire time,” he mumbles to himself, but he zips his mouth shut when he sees you instinctively moving closer to try to catch what he said. “Uh, in any case… just stop by the gym whenever you can.”

So here you are a few hours later, being the first person to settle yourself on top of the 2nd floor of the gym. You rest your arms on the railway, fascinated by the Kaijō basketball team and their skills. As they warm up on the courts, it’s the first time you see Kise truly at ease and happy with the people he cares about, and your heart pangs in jealousy seeing his genuine smile. You were pulled out of your thoughts when you realized the gym became completely crowded, the constant chattering announcing huge crowds along the entrance and the lucky watchers at the 2nd floor with you.

You didn’t mind the onlookers when all you were focused on was Kise throughout the entire game with a smitten look, and you weren’t surprised when his team easily won against the other local school.

“That’s Kise isn’t it?” You were about to turn to leave the higher floor to wait outside the gym when you heard his name. You stop to eavesdrop on the conversation next to you.

“Yeah, I’ve been hearing about him way too much. Something about him dating now?”

“He’s dating (l/n) right now, which is super weird because they never even talked… and all of the sudden, they’re dating? I didn’t think of him to be into short-term flings.”

“You think he’s using (l/n) in some way? What an asshole.”

“Yikes. You’re probably not even that far off the bulls-eye. He’s a really heartless guy, from what I’ve heard.”

“Hey,” you interrupt, scaring the two girls out of their wits before they turn to you. “I don’t think you should talk about Kise like that when all you know of him is through speculation.”

“Ugh, here we go again with his fans…” one of them groans, rolling her eyes. “Look, I get it, he’s good-looking and all, but I don’t understand how you can defend him to death when he doesn’t even spare a glance at you… ah… shit, you’re (l/n)?” A flash of hurt was visible on your face for a split second before you frowned. Their words unintentionally hit the nail in the coffin.

“Whether I’m (l/n) or not doesn’t really matter,” you say angrily. “Gossiping about anyone like that isn’t something you should make a habit out of.”

“Jeez, let’s just leave,” the other girl whispers, dragging the first girl along.

You simply stand there watching them leave, but you can’t shake off what they said. They were right… how could you be so whipped for him when you know he’ll never see you the same way?

“Oy!”

Kise’s voice brings you back to your consciousness as he waves at you from the court. “You’ve been standing there for a while! Hurry up, or I’ll leave you behind, (y/n)-cchi!”

“Coming!” You race from the 2nd floor to the ground level to catch up to him, your heart pounding all the while. Did he… did he just…?

You shake your head before you reunite with him to walk home together. Stop it… don’t overthink it.

———

Kise waits at his usual spot to wait for you before walking to school together. It’s been three weeks since he’s approached you to “date.” He’s grown quite comfortable with this arrangement, being close to you and backing off when it’s convenient. After all, if you somehow showed a gruesome true self of yours, he’d be able to separate himself from you with no consequences… even if his heart would cry out not to.

“Ryōta!” There you are, running down the path towards him so cheerfully. Could you really be an awful person when you have such a pure smile like that?

“Ah, (y/n)-cchi,” he says. “We should hurry if we wanna be inside campus. It’s a little chilly today, so being indoors sounds really nice right now.” He peers over to your face to see your nose slightly red from the cold, and he huffs out a chuckle, noting the warm puff of air escaping from his own lips.

“I guess it’s a little cold today,” you say, looking up at Kise with a slight childish wonder. “Hey, that’s a pretty cool cloud that you puffed out.”

“You have some clouds around you too.” He gently smiles, and he notes that your eyes widen at the sight of him. “Wha? Is my face that horrific, (y/n)-cchi?” You avert your gaze as your cheeks grow just as red as your nose.

“Nah… i-it’s nothing…ah—” He holds your cheeks to turn your face back to him, and he draws near with a serious gaze, bumping his forehead against yours.

“You’re actually really cold…”

“Uh, um… I don’t think I’m c-cold anymore—” you stammer, your eyes darting to look everywhere but his face, and Kise’s eyes only scrutinize your behavior further.

“Hm, if you say so…” he mumbles. Your eyes flutter close at the anticipation, and he feels the pull towards your lips, closing his own lids shut…

Wait, what was he thinking? He snaps his lids open and slightly draws himself away to look at you, still vulnerable with your closed eyes. It’s only when he drops his hands from your cheeks and turns to walk ahead when you flutter your eyes open again. Don’t let your feelings for (y/n) blind you into figuring out who they really are.

“Come on,” Kise calls out to you. “We should get going… we don’t wanna be late.” Besides, what if there’s a possibility that you don’t really like him at all?

“Y-Yeah…”

The rest of the walk was in silence, with Kise slightly ahead of you. Perhaps if he turned around at least once to check on you, he would’ve seen the consequences of his actions.

You were silently crying the entire walk.

———

Nothing seems to change much for the entire month. The way the two of you dance and sway around each other, while never being too close, never being too affectionate, never being completely honest. In this shared rose-tinted world, the frail glass that holds these moments together threatens to break with every fickle interaction. Every shared kiss constitutes another small crack to the rose-tinted crystal.

And both of you are content with just the way things are.

Or that’s what you both mutter to yourselves like a mantra.

“Ryōta!” you call out to him. “Did you wait long?”

“Not really,” he says. “I just barely got out too… the teacher was really lenient on dismissal today, actually.” His heart swells at the sight of you as usual, but just as quickly, he’s always managed to quash his emotions in check.

For the first time, you initiate physical touch with him without hesitation, linking your hands with his and snuggling up to him. He flinches, not fast enough to process the sudden warmth of your body, and he immediately separates himself from you. Do you actually like him after all?… No, something is up, right?

“Ryōta…?” You flinch just as severely from the sudden reaction, and he turns to avoid looking at your face, knowing that his resolve would crumble right in front of you. He’s a coward, and he fucking knows it.

“S-Sorry, (y/n)-cchi! I don’t know what came over me like that, but you know you don’t have to force yourself to do things like that, right? There’s no one here, so let’s just walk home together like we always do, yeah?”

He turns to already walk ahead, too afraid of hearing your response and hoping you would follow and catch up to him… like you always do.

You simply stood there for a few moments, anguish clear as the sky above you as you keep telling yourself to manage your own expectations. Still, your voice croaks out quietly to respond to him, even if you knew he wasn’t going to hear it.

“… But I wanted to do these things with you, Ryōta.”

———

It’s been several days since that incident.

It was very awkward for the most part, the walks to and from school silent and suffocating. He’s not quite sure how to go about it while trying not to sound disingenuous about it. Nonetheless, even through his quiet apology, your face still lights up, and he’s confused about why you would ever be so forgiving of him.

Although today, lines have been crossed and this shared secretive world between the two of you have completely shattered to the point of no return.

It was quite a blur, an instinct that Kise has developed over the course of this relationship. Every time a group of students drew near, he was always ready to tug you close for a kiss until they left and carry on with their day. Today was usually no exception.

Another group of students was hanging around the corner, presumably spying on you two, and Kise did what he’s always done, grabbing your hand and embracing you for a kiss. Your eyes were blown open in surprise, but when you saw Kise’s eyes elsewhere, something finally snapped inside.

You push him away at his chest.

“U-Unagi… unagi…” Your voice trembles, and you use your arms to cover up the fresh tears. The code word sounds unbelievably stupid out of context, but at this moment, the word alone stabs Kise in his chest. “I-I… just stop… please.” Kise stares dumbly at you, processing the fact that you just used the agreed safe word against him.

“… (y/n)-cchi?” Kise asks with a confused smile. “You’ve never objected to kissing before… I’ve even told you what we’ll be doing if you agreed to this…?”

“How…” you choke on tears. “H-How can you kiss me like that while your eyes are on someone else…?”

“I don’t understand—”

“A-Am I that atrocious to kiss unless you stare at something else or there’s some convenience?”

“I don’t get it, (y/n)-cchi,” he frowns. “Did you expect more out of this or am I missing something?”

“There was no reason to kiss me like that,” you softly wail. “Everyone already knows we’re a thing for… o-over a month now. There’s no reason to kiss me around people anymore when they won’t suspect us anyways…”

“So you don’t want me to kiss you anymore?” Kise’s heart sinks in thinking about where this is going.

“No!—you don’t… you don’t fucking get it! I don’t get it—! Why are we doing this anymore—I just, I see no reason to continue this anymore… you already shooed off your fans, right? Why haven’t you ended this?!”

“(y/n)-cchi—I…” He reaches out for you, but you immediately recoil.

“No—please… no more, I can’t do this anymore!” you sniffle. “I can’t fucking do this… I’m done, I’m tired—please… just look for another person to take my place… I… I’m done—I can’t pretend with you anymore when I always expect more out of it like a love-stricken fool!”

“I…”

“Look—see,” you choke. “I’m just like everyone else who’s in love with you, I’m no different than everyone else R-Ryōta… so that’s why, I-I… can’t do this anymore!”

Kise stands there, staring at you running away from him. It was like everything had gone silent, save for the sound of his blood pounding in his ears.

“You think he’s using (l/n) in some way? What an asshole.”

“Yikes. You’re probably not even that far off the bulls-eye. He’s a really heartless guy, from what I’ve heard.”

He hated rumors, he really did… but for the first time, he feels like he deserves every word thrown at him around the hallways and classrooms. His memory flits to the time when he felt warm from seeing you standing up for him, even if he wasn’t bothered by them before. Now, the warmth is replaced by agonizing regret and guilt wracking through his entire body. His hands feel cold with you gone from his side.

What has he done?

———

He’s grown quiet for the next week.

It’s been a week since you ran from him, and it’s been a week since he last talked to you.

Even his teammates were concerned about his reserved behavior, but just as always, he’s managed to shoot them a convincing smile. Kasamatsu was more persistent about this but eventually dropped it seeing Kise’s refusal to talk about it.

That day when you pushed him away, he couldn’t sleep, his thoughts keeping him awake the entire night. He resolved himself to talk to you the next day… but he changed his mind the last minute… and then he told himself he’d do it the next day… and then he changed his mind again.

He tells himself that it’s because you rightfully hate him, with the way you’d surround yourself with other crowds and groups to prevent him from walking up to you when you were alone. He tells himself that it’s because both you and him needed space to cool off and go back to the way you two were. He refuses to tell himself that it’s because he’s an honest-to-god coward.

He misses you. He misses you damn badly. Why the fuck did he go through such lengths instead of confessing to you straight up? He tells himself that he was being cautious. He tells himself that he doesn’t want his heart to be broken again. He refuses to conclude that it’s because he’s a fucking coward.

“I don’t know what’s been on your mind, idiot,” Kasamatsu says. “But you better solve this yourself quickly if you’re not opening up to me about this. We can’t have your performance quality be dropping even in practice. Hurry up and fix this shit with (l/n)-san already.”

“H-How’d you know?!” Kise raises his head from his desk in astonishment.

“Tch, idiot,” he glowers, chopping Kise’s head with a swift hand. “It’s too obvious from the way you’re moping around… from the way you two stuck together all this time, who wouldn’t notice something happened from the way you’re at your desk watching (l/n)-san like that?”

“O-Ow…” Kise grumbles rubbing his head. Ironically, his captain’s hit cleared up his doubts and he took a deep breath before exhaling. “Got it, senpai.”

“You better.” Kasamatsu goes back to talking to his classmates during break, and even despite not knowing the truth of the relationship, he manages to give solid advice as usual.

Tomorrow. He’ll find you tomorrow.

———

He doesn’t know where else to find you alone other than the place he’s always waited for you before you two used to walk to school together. So he stands there, almost an hour earlier in case you had the idea to walk to school extremely early to avoid him at all costs.

He was right.

Here you are, shuffling your feet as you trudged yourself along the path and looking down at your feet. You even manage to walk past by him without noticing his presence.

Even if you’ve grown to hate him, he’s willed himself to come completely clean about his feelings to you for once. But a part of him is thinking to change his mind again and just let you slip away from his fingers. It’d spare the both of you the inevitable, right?

“R-Ryōta…?”

He was pulled from his thoughts, startled to see you staring at him from a short distance away. Apparently you did notice him after all.

“… (y/n)-cchi…” He swallows his words, knowing full well that his stupid words might blow this up for him again, his words responsible for all the rumors at school, his words responsible for hurting you and will hurt you again.

He wordlessly walks up to you and holds your cheek, and waits. He waits for you to push him away again. He waits for you to say the code word to let him know that you don’t want him near you again. The thought of you running away from him nearly brings him to tears, but he gulps his emotions down and stares at you calmly, with only his upturned brows hinting to his inner turmoil.

“Ryō—”

He swiftly brings his head down and kisses you. In feeling the warmth for the first time in a while, he greedily drinks from your lips, holding your temples more firmly as he searches for more, more, more.

You push him away.

Kise immediately lets go and stares at you like a lost child, unable to mask the devastation from the implications of your actions. But you’re still gripping his uniform tightly, almost as if you didn’t want to let go.

“W-Why…?” you croak, biting your lips to stop any tears from breaking through. “There’s no reason to kiss me. Don’t you know that we’re done? There’s no one to watch us here, no reason for you to walk me to school anymore. You know that, Ryōta. After all, we haven’t talked since a week ago, and you have the audacity to come here and kiss me like everything is okay—”

“… I want to kiss you, because there’s no one around, because there’s no other reason for me to.”

“Why…?” your voice softens to a whisper. “Don’t you hate anyone who likes you in that way? I… I already told you that I see you in that light, like many of your fans do. Don’t you hate me? Don’t you hate me for using this arrangement to get closer to you? Don’t you hate me for expecting something real out of this?”

“I already had an inkling of suspicion that you liked me, (y/n)-cchi,” Kise turns away to look at the bright morning sky. “I just didn’t know if I was wrong or not.”

“Then… why did you ask me to do this whole thing with you…?”

“Because I’m a coward,” he says, looking back to you. You were stunned into silence. For the first time, he finally admits what’s been weighing on his mind for weeks out loud, and his eyes, while drenched in shame, were full of resoluteness. “I liked you, but I was too afraid for the day when you ended up being not like the person I ended up liking. I liked you, but I was afraid of a real relationship that would tie me down. I liked you, but I was afraid of making huge decisions that involved another person into my life. I didn’t want to end the fake relationship because I was too fucking selfish… if I ended it, I’d lose the only connection I had with you… I’m sorry.”

Both of you went silent, bathed in the light of the rising sun. Kise drops to a squat to hide his face from you, and you knew he was trying to stop himself from tearing up. He knows how uncool he looks, but he had no right to cry when you were the one who got hurt the most.

“Ryōta, did you really find it difficult to kiss me…? Just… be honest.”

“Yes,” he looks up from his squat to stare at you with an intense look, even despite his puffy eyes. “Everytime I kissed you, I found it hard to control myself. I thought, what if you were using me to somehow get a kiss from me? or what if I couldn’t stop myself from kissing you and I ended up taking things too far? Looking anywhere but you at least stopped me from getting too invested…”

By now, both of you had turned completely red at his honesty, but he still found you frankly stunning even with your red, puffy eyes. “Look, (y/n)-cchi, don’t you hate me? I used you. The rumors are right—I’m a complete asshole. Just… I won’t blame you if you walk away right now.”

“You do know that I used this opportunity to get closer to you, right?… I wasn’t a saint about this either, so… I’m sorry too.” Both of you go silent again, and you slowly drop yourself to his level in a squat of your own in front of him.

“… C-Can we… can we start over?” you whisper, your warm breath tickling his chilled nose.

“(y/n)-cchi, I don’t think I’m capable of continuing this arrangement…”

“No,” you huff, before you tentatively press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I mean… can we… start over, but this time, as a real couple? I… want this relationship to be substantial. I really do like you, Ryōta.” You murmur against his lips with your hands on top of your knees, waiting for him to rebuke you away with an easygoing comment or a plastered smile.

But he doesn’t do any of that.

“I… guess we can try that,” Kise mumbles, gaze averted as his cheeks flame brighter than his nose and ears.

“Can you kiss me again?” you ask, your voice cracking at the end out of fear he’d turn down your request. Kise flicks his gaze back to you to see you equally red with a hesitant expression.

“Could you… close your eyes?” he asks with a frown.

“H-Huh?”

“Y-You don’t need to see me looking like a mess, I don’t look charming right now.”

“I… guess…” After a few moments of hesitation, you flutter your eyes shut, waiting apprehensively for his lips to descend onto yours again. Kise holds your cheeks and takes the time to admire your features for the first time, and his smile grows wider with every passing second.

‘R-Ryōta…?” Afraid of the fact that he actually may not like kissing you after all, you worriedly open your eyes, only to be greeted by the most brilliant smile from Kise, his figure illuminated by the sunshine hitting the back of his head at the perfect angle.

“(y/n)-cchi,” he teases with a small pout. “Didn’t I tell you to close your eyes?”

Who needs a rose-tinted lens when the sight before you is already so radiant to behold?

[robininthelabyrinth]

extra 2 for Tedious Joys - warnings for adult content, WRH/Lao Nie, slightly dubcon, not necessarily in the same universe as the previous extra, possibly AU

ao3 link

-

Humans had three modes of dealing with evil things: fighting, feeding, and fucking.

Much to Jiwei’s disgust, it seemed that her Master could not be dissuaded from treating with Wen Ruohan through the last of these.

You’re disgusted any time I pick the ‘fucking’ option, her Master said tolerantly. He was watching Wen Ruohan’s body as the other man moved through the crowd like a shark amidst waters filled with fat fish, merciful and restrained only in his current lack of interest and yet convinced of his superiority. You’re barely more interested when I pick ‘feeding’, and my body would collapse if I stopped doing that.

I’ve heard good things about inedia, Jiwei retorted, but her Master only laughed. You agree that he’s evil, though.

Jiwei, sweetheart, you think almost everyone is evil.

Because they are!

The ethical frailty of humanity was practically a given at this point: one need only look around this sect conference to find examples of it, the hall teeming with the stench of moral corruption. Sect leaders who would sell their daughters for an iota more of power, who had blood on their hands from executions conducted behind closed doors, liars, thieves, cheats, crooks, evil –

To be both good and evil is natural, Jiwei, even for us two. It’s not worthy of a death sentence.

Jiwei was not arguing in any seriousness: she had long ago reached the conclusion that it was not a debate that her Master was inclined to yield upon, and of course he had long ago won the argument. After all, her Master had done his share of terrible things too, in his time, to defend his sect and his family as needed, and she had been at his side, aiding him as she ought.

She was not as rigid as Baxia, that fearsome child, who longed only, as her master did, for righteousness; she would not argue with her master the way Baxia did, quibbling over mundanities as if the human world were something that could be judged through the merits of a saber. But then Baxia had Nie Mingjue, whose soul was very near to a saber itself – unbending in its ferocity and clear in its simplicity – and Nie Mingjue listened to his saber in a way his father did not, too close and too compassionate, too forgiving of his inhuman partner’s flaws and too willing to take the time to convince when he ought to simply order.

Perhaps it was simply different for the two of them.

Baxia had roared to life with an ancient soul, a queen among sabers, and even Jiwei would not so easily choose to face her down, for all that she was more clever and more practiced, more thoughtful and more reserved, her power the greater, but her potential worse. Luckily it seemed unlikely to ever become an issue, what with Nie Mingjue earnestly trying to teach Baxia the meaning of being filial to one’s elders, as if age were at all relevant to a saber spirit.

Still, even if she were not Baxia, Jiwei had her own pride: she was still a saber, stubborn and inflexible, and so she said, Even Lan Qiren thinks you shouldn’t fuck him.

Jiwei rather begrudgingly liked Lan Qiren. She hadn’t at first, of course – not that she’d noticed him much when he was just a fellow cultivator her Master had taken a shine to, a teenager with a strange manner and his own pride, but later, when her only thought of him had been to wonder how he would dare attempt to interfere with her connection with her Master – but he was stubborn in his own way, obstinate, uncompromising, tenacious.

There was even unexpectedly some rage in him, buried deep beneath his rules and the scars left on his heart – not enough to do anything with it, the poor soul, but enough to show that he knew what it was. Jiwei had finally started condescending to give him a little of her time and attention, maybe a little of her rage that he always seemed to be seeking: at least he knew that he needed it.

Lan Qiren doesn’t want to fuck anyone, her Master said, fond as always. He, at least, would be more than happy to fuck Lan Qiren if the other man were interested. He doesn’t understand the appeal, so how can he really make a judgment on the matter?

Jiwei wasn’t sure that was how it worked – her Master respected Lan Qiren’s judgment on all sorts of things that Lan Qiren didn’t personally appreciate, and in all honesty she suspected that her Master was thinking with all the brain in the lower half of his body again – but she also didn’t actually care all that much.

Wen Ruohan hates Lan Qiren, she said instead, not for the first time that day.

Her Master frowned, as he did before. I don’t know what’s gotten into Hanhan over it. He even went and got Qiren drunk again, and I thought he swore never to be in his vicinity while drunk ever again, after last time.

Lan Qiren, when drunk, dropped all façade of caring about other people’s lack of interest in his favorite subjects, and also any reservations about using his strength and body to pin people into place – he’d held Wen Ruohan down by the arm, and ended up at one point in his lap to loudly insist that he pay attention because they were just getting to the interesting part, despite assurances by Wen Ruohan that it was not interesting, had never been interesting, and that he would shortly begin to bite off his own limbs in order to escape if it did not rapidly become more interesting.

Her Master had gone over at that point, nominally to assist but actually in order to enjoy having Lan Qiren on his own lap, and yet somehow that had only made Wen Ruohan’s expression worse.

Humans were so confusing.

Didn’t you tell Lan Qiren that you’d rescue him sooner if he got drunk again?

Her Master laughed, but he put down his drink and went: Lan Qiren had drunk four toasts, which was three and three-quarters more than he could tolerate, and he had cornered some poor sect leader and started in on some subject on musical cultivation that even Jiwei, who had no ears, could identify as being both esoteric and extremely boring.

Wen Ruohan caught her Master by the wrist before he got to Lan Qiren’s side.

“You should come spend some time with me, my friend,” he said, his eyes intent, purposeful, gaze as hot as the sun patterned on his clothing. “I have scarcely seen you this evening.”

Because you were too busy trying to get Lan Qiren drunk for some reason, Jiwei said scathingly, and her Master shushed her.

“The days in your Nightless City are long and the nights longer, A-Han,” her Master said, turning his hand to stroke two fingers along the underside of Wen Ruohan’s wrist – the other man released his hand, recoiling as if he’d been burnt; he had never grown accustomed to her Master’s shameless displays of affection. “There will still be time for us to spend time together.”

Wen Ruohan’s eyes narrowed. “But not now.”

“Not now,” her Master said agreeably. “I promised Qiren that I wouldn’t let him embarrass himself.”

“Someone else could do that.”

“They could, yes, but I’m the one that promised him.”

Wen Ruohan’s lips twisted. “You promise him many things. More than you should, with him the sect leader of another sect…”

“So are you, Hanhan,” the Master said. “And don’t I promise you the moon and the stars, if only I could fetch them down for you?”

The poetry of humans was truly insipid, in Jiwei’s view, and yet like all monsters Wen Ruohan both hated and loved the purity of her Master’s emotions, his heart offered on a platter without reservations.

It didn’t seem to be working this time, though.

“Go to him, then,” Wen Ruohan sneered, his jaw tight from where he was grinding his teeth together. “I trust you will tell me, then, when you finally decide to promise him that I will no longer be sharing your bed.”

I like him when he’s jealous, her Master remarked to her, and sometimes Jiwei thought her Master could be a very stupid man. He’s never more ferocious and passionate than he is when he thinks someone has taken something of his.

Never more dangerous, you mean. You always did like the ones that could and did want to kill you.

It adds some spice to life.

Life is not a food. It does not require spice.

You don’t eat, sweetheart; what do you know?

Jiwei considered this comment to fall into the same category as the one about Lan Qiren not knowing a bad idea just because he was sensible enough not to want to fuck it.

“Lan Qiren has no say in who I allow to share my bed,” he said, and stepped forward abruptly: Wen Ruohan, his senses as always tuned to the highest level of paranoia, instinctively stepped back, and so allowed her Master to corner him up against the wall, bringing their faces level and close to each other until their breath was shared. “Don’t think I didn’t see who was sending all those toasts to him, A-Han.”

“You object?” Wen Ruohan hissed, trying to pretend that he was unmoved by her Master’s nearness – as if anyone could miss the blood pounding through his veins, or the hardness beneath his clothing that her Master deliberately pressed his thigh against in a teasing gesture that made Wen Ruohan inhale sharply.

Wen Ruohan was too powerful, Jiwei thought; his wives treated him like a god, and his concubines like something even higher – he had never been treated so intimately, so recklessly and without care for whether or not he approved, and he was fascinated by it.

“Do you like him?” her Master asked, and Wen Ruohan’s eyes went wide in indignation. “The Lan sect breeds for beauty, and he’s got his fair share of it, even if he doesn’t think of it that way.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“There’s something appealing even in his very disinterest,” her Master mused, and Jiwei resigned herself to hearing this again. “He’s above such things, like a statue carved into the mountainside, untouchable and cold, the stone unyielding, and yet his flesh is as soft as any other man’s – it would give if you pressed on it. Turn red if you dug your fingers in, bruising like the skin of a ripe peach.”

Wen Ruohan’s throat worked as he swallowed.

“You like that sort of thing, don’t you? You like it when people are in pain…you like the rush of power it gives you. There are other ways of having power, A-Han.”

Her Master had thoroughly pinned Wen Ruohan against the wall now, even though the other sect leader’s cultivation was higher, his physical strength above their own. Their hips were slotted together, the two of them grinding up against each other, and Wen Ruohan’s mouth was a little agape, his lips and the tongue between them very red.

“There are,” he murmured, eying her Master as if he wanted to peel off his skin and devour him whole, put him in his belly where no one else would be able to reach him. “And this is his: that even now you will leave me and go to him instead.”

Her Master laughed.

“I need to take him to bed,” he murmured, words deliberately ambiguous, and Wen Ruohan jerked in his grasp – perhaps her Master was not so wrong in thinking that Wen Ruohan admired the coldly beautiful Lan Qiren more than he should. “Why don’t you help me?”

Wen Ruohan frowned, even as her Master stepped away. “Help you?”

“Take him to bed,” her Master said, and smiled as Wen Ruohan scowled at him. “It’ll be easier to carry him with two of us.”

Lan Qiren did not especially want to go with them, eager to continue his elaboration on whatever subject he was on now – actually a method for temporarily cutting off someone’s breathing using sound alone, not that anyone would be able to tell unless they had an excellent understanding of musical notation, esoteric cultivation techniques, and the human pulmonary system – although the sect leaders he had cornered were deeply grateful for the intervention. Still, Lan Qiren was a cultivator of song and thought, his strength respectable but nothing in comparison to martial cultivators like Jiwei’s Master or Wen Ruohan; they were easily able to drag him away despite his protests.

Her Master eased the way further by picking up another jar of wine and pouring it into Lan Qiren’s throat as they fought to get him up the stairs, the additional liquor finally acting to push him from wildness into quietude in a single step: he fell asleep at once, instantly becoming as limp as a fully cooked noodle and just as inconvenient.

“Do you have to deal with this every time?” Wen Ruohan complained.

Jiwei’s Master chuckled. “It helps to have experience,” he said, tapping the side of his nose. “Come, get his shoes off while I get the bed ready.”

“You treat me as if I were a common servant,” Wen Ruohan said disdainfully, although he did kneel and remove Lan Qiren’s shoes. Jiwei almost wondered at his willingness, given Wen Ruohan’s usual self-perception as a soon-to-be deity, or at least she did until he ran his fingers up Lan Qiren’s calf and even up to his inner thigh, his gaze firmly fixed on Jiwei’s Master as if in challenge – he was starting something, of course.

“You can’t make him jump when he’s like this,” her Master said, unmoved by the provocation. “He’s utterly insensate; he wouldn’t even notice if you put your hand on his dick.”

“Maybe I should,” Wen Ruohan said, the implicit challenge now outright.

“Maybe you should put it on mine instead,” her Master said. “There’s a second bed in the room.”

Jiwei did not have eyes, but she could enjoy the expression of shock on Wen Ruohan’s face through her Master’s perception of it.

“You’re not serious,” Wen Ruohan said. He did not sound repulsed by the idea – merely surprised that Jiwei’s Master had suggested it, and more than a little intrigued by it.

“I’ve gone night-hunting with him before,” her Master said. “He understands that men who are not him have needs that must be fulfilled; he’s told me before that he doesn’t mind me getting myself off near him, or even while thinking of him, as long as I don’t involve him.”

“You’re rather pushing the boundaries of that agreement, aren’t you?”

Jiwei’s Master had a smile full of teeth – his own type of shark, his own type of monster. “Don’t you like pushing boundaries the most, A-Han?”

It was things like this that drew a clear line between Jiwei’s Master and Baxia’s, Jiwei thought to herself, amused. In the ranking of things that were dear to her Master, his sect came first, and all else second, even family, friendship, or morality; Nie Mingjue, in contrast, would rank family first, morality second, and sect third, and would never take even minimal advantage of a friend, even when the gains were great and the downsides almost none.

Their power over Wen Ruohan was useful to the Nie sect, and pleasing to Jiwei’s Master on a personal basis; the power they drew out from their dual cultivation beneficial to both him and her – they did, in fact, engage in it on the second bed in the room, her Master’s voice rough against his Hanhan’s ear, spinning fantasy and filth at the same time, both their gazes fixed firmly on where Lan Qiren slept innocently on, detached in his disinterest and unlikely to object to anything other than the sheer impropriety of it even if he awoke.

Certainly that had been his reaction the last few times her Master had brought someone back to the single room at the inn that they had been sharing – not that Wen Ruohan needed to know that he wasn’t the first.

Do you intend to court them both? Jiwei asked, curious. It wasn’t the worst idea, even if she despaired at the thought of there being even more fucking instead of fighting: Lan Qiren’s coolness was a good counterbalance to Wen Ruohan’s heat, even if Wen Ruohan’s viciousness was more their speed than Lan Qiren’s level-headed contemplation and compassion. If he obtained them both, her Master could get the benefits of Lan Qiren’s company and conversation, which he truly enjoyed, and Wen Ruohan’s body and cleverness, and perhaps with two of them at his side Wen Ruohan would finally find himself content with what he had, able to stop his endless quest for more, more, more, the yawning pit of greed that lay beneath his arrogance and drove him to do increasingly terrible things.

Perhaps, if they’d let me, her Master replied. His mental voice was tight the way it always was when he dual cultivated with another cultivator, in the time before he reached release – he would be full of energy in the morning, excitable; their morning training together would be especially good for them both, strengthening them as they shared the qi between them. They’d be a force to be reckoned with, especially with me beside them…Qiren doesn’t like sex, but he’s never objected to romance, so it’s not hopeless. Hanhan could be taught to respect limits, and Qiren’s always been remarkably easy-going with those he considers his friends. It would be a good match. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?

You’ve always had eyes for things bigger than you can swallow, Jiwei said. She would roll her eyes if she had them. Well, good luck. Don’t let it be your funeral.

Don’t worry, her Master said, reckless as always. I won’t.

[honestsycrets]

Say Your Piece II: Heart Breaker

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader, hvitserk x ?

❛ type | double triple? shot, mistakes were made au

❛ chp summary | after the reader says she doesn’t want hvitserk; he makes a bad decision. it gets worse from there.

❛  tags | plus size reader, verbal arguments, extreme social anxiety, extreme body insecurity, drinking, hateful words, illustrator hvitserk x writer reader, mention of infidelity, shame, OCs, sexual frustration, blackmail, cheating mentioned, verbal abuse, sexual blackmail, poor communication? it’s more likely than you think. tags to be added.

❛ request | So Hvitserk request (you a asked for it 😂) Remember the Little Lovers event and the self-conscient plus size reader who didn’t want to have sex ?Well I didn’t get the sex lol. I want my Hvitserk to show a woman how her body is enjoyable. Thank you 😊 for @alicedopey

❛ sy’s note | i’ll eventually get you your sex scene, DAMN IT.

He wakes with a blaring headache caused by a stream of fresh morning light against his soft cheek. He pulls his arms around you-- or, what he thought was you, as the moment he does so, he knows it’s wrong. Where soft folds and overflowing breasts were, he finds thin limbs and small breasts.

It’s not your body-- he realizes all at once. The high rise apartment that overlooked the city wasn’t, either. It was the fruit of an accomplished older woman, whose many books hovered on a white shelf beside a white bed. Everything in the room holds the same pure standard. He flings himself from the bed, his naked ass colliding with a nightstand. The items ripple over the surface and settle into new positions. The woman pushes up, dragging the painfully monochrome white fluffy sheet to cover her flat chest. 

“Hvitserk?” 

Erika, in all her sharp-eyed glory, stares right back at him. Vomit spins up his throat, incited by the affection by with her eyes considered him. Hvitserk scrambles over the perfectly plain hardwood floors, upchucking up what’s left of his agitated stomach after his pathetic night out on the town. 

“Hvitserk!” 

Her spindly hand is at his back. Ordinarily, she was a comfort in your absence. That despite her pushing, and pushing, and pushing to get your name off “his” book, she would always be there for him in ways that a lover could not. Author-illustrators make so much more than being an illustrator alone, she reminded him. Her considerate words now feel like measured steps against his relationship. Her touch rips his skin into gooseflesh. Hvitserk works his shoulder away, his knuckles becoming white around the bowl.

“You drank too much last night.” it’s a non-question. Obviously, if he were here, he had. He groans his miserable response into the toilet bowl, wishing he could smother himself in the water, as it would be a better punishment than anything his girlfriend could do to him. “I’ll make you some coffee.” 

Her steps become distant echoes. When he finishes and cleans after himself, he starts his search for his clothes. He picks them from a singular pile, draws them back on, and reaches for his phone. It bleats a miserable eight percent battery life.

“She didn’t call if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Ericka stands in a silvery slip; although he’s not sure when she put on some clothes. She hands him his cup of coffee and takes a seat on her “divorce couch”, a plain grey chair that she scammed her ex-husband out of. As she sits there, all long limbs, and purposefully sultry clothes-- the guilt strikes him.

Hvitserk takes a sip of bitter, burnt black coffee. She’s never been a great coffee maker but her heart is in the right place. It wouldn’t feel right to snuff her. After all, he probably spent the night before buried in her cunt. 

“You called me to pick you up at the bar last night. You were so drunk all you wanted to do was lay on my chest,” Ericka pulls a sheer black kimono over her thin collarbones. His eyes fall on her hands. “I told you she’d break your heart. Women like that-- once they get over a certain weight-- they aren’t emotionally available to do anything but eat. It consumes them.” 

“She ain’t like that.”

“If she’s not like that, then why did you have sex with me? Be honest with yourself, Hvitserk. Your needs aren’t met with her. That’s why you needed me.” 

His mouth runs dry. Like he’s been chewing on his regret as if it were paper. He couldn’t remember the night before. It was like a bad memory he never wanted to recover. Hvitserk glances down to his cup as he sinks onto her bed. 

“It was an accident,” he glares at the surface. “I- You know I can’t be with you, right? You’re--” 

“Old?” she asks. He’s never cared about something as simple as that. Twelve years his senior or not, it wasn’t an issue.

“It’s not that. C’mon Erika, you know I don’t give a shit about age. She’s my baby girl.” 

“You’re going to stay with her? A woman like that?” 

“Like what?” Hvitserk sets the coffee on the nightstand as he snaps at her before he could bite it back. He knew what she meant. Erika’s long ranging sigh reminds him of Aslaug. How tenderly her hands would wrap around him even though they were truly tainted with alcohol perfuming off her breath. 

“I’ve been your agent for years Hvitserk. We go through this every time you find a girl. This oen is by far the worst. She doesn’t care about you. Look at all that work you did for her yesterday. The pendant you bought her. The work you’ve put into her books! You even pick up all the food she eats. She won’t go outside of her house and you still expect that she’ll suddenly become this fat trophy wife on your arm.” 

“Just because she’s fat don’t--” 

“It isn’t about the fat, Hvitserk.  How many times does she have to show you, or tell you for you to get the picture through your stupid head, huh? She doesn’t want you! And you have the balls to call me a fucking accident.” 

“Erika--” 

She leaps up from her chair. Hvitserk sucks in a hard breath and tries to find sense through the nonsense, looking through his phone. Erika was right. You hadn’t sent a message. Not in his texts, not on his social media. More egregiously, he spots a new post. Ericka’s hands fold over his, pushing him back to sit on the bed. She slides over his thin hips and takes a seat on his empty lap. It was painfully simple, painfully domestic, and painfully wrong.

“Let me tell you what I’ve learned in forty years,” Erika whispered in his ear. Her thin lips move, gliding like butter in his ear. “If someone doesn’t want you, there’s nothing you can do to change that.” Her fingers comb through his hair, like slimy tendrils. “But I’m here.” 

Hvitserk tips his head nack, gazing at the ceiling. Her palm caresses his scruffy jawline to drag his attention from the ceiling to her soft blue eyes, a painless depth, if only he would listen to her words. Hvitserk shifts her back on the bed, loitering around her waist with a supportive hand on the base of her back.

“I know you care ‘bout me. I just-- need some time, okay?” 

It doesn’t slip him that she’s scowling as he walks out of her home. There was someone he could count upon, when things were difficult, his phone buzzing in his palm reminded him of that. 

“Hey, Ivar.” 

Or, maybe not.

“You fucked her?” Ivar stopped chewing his pastry, ambling his head one way then another, laughing against himself. He took his mug of properly brewed coffee to his lips. Hvitserk regrets agreeing to meet him at the cafe. “What were you thinking sleeping with your agent?”

“I wasn’t thinking! I was drunk--” Hvitserk set his hand to his forehead. He has no appetite as he cycled through what he had done, searching out the moment that he called Erika. He fails to locate anything but quiet sobbing behind the neck of a beer bottle and a distant, squeamish feeling of fingers down his nape. “I think she took advantage of me.” 

Ivar sets down his cup of coffee, picking up a fork and knife as he leaned over the table, lips punctuating each word. 

“Yes, well, I am sure that will go over with your girlfriend well. I’m sorry, I slept with my skinny, well-established agent who has been wanting me to get rid of you. That bitch has been after you for years. What do you think she will do now? She won’t let you go.”

“She understands,” he reflects at the monochrome crowd. His plate is full but has gone cold with his lack of appetite. Normally, this was the place he came with his brother to binge breakfast and muse about women. Ubbe wouldn’t care about his issues: he never had time for anyone but himself. Not really. Ivar scoffed, gazing into the foot traffic flitting by their cafe. 

“Tch, I’m sure she does. She will probably break up with you.” 

He bobbed his head.

“I think she already has.” 

A normal man would come to beg. 

But Hvitserk draws in the deep quiet of the park. With only the barks of dogs, the giggles of children, and the occasional frequency from couples watching movies in the park, it’s a place of solace by the small pond. 

He starts with an outline of Xiao’s small face. It’s a rough outline, budding and ready to be kissed with by watercolours. Soft pinks like petals of peonies droop in his photo. He must have blended this shade wrong. Line after line that he sweeps, he weeps. His phone jingles in his pocket and his heart tightens around his chest like a straight jacket to someone in an insane asylum. He must be going crazy-- if he too can no longer paint.

“Where are you?!” you boom on the other end of the line. Hvitserk fumbles his phone, suckling in a breath. Had Ivar told you? No, his brother wouldn’t. Not Ivar. He was never a gossiper. 

“In-- in the park?” 

“What has gotten into you? You could have at least texted me to tell me you were okay. I was worried sick!” 

You? Worried sick? This wasn’t the you from yesterday. The one that pelted out how selfish he was for craving intimacy. The one that told him that all he wanted was to sexualize you. As if he were some sixty year old pervert with a camera in hand to click a picture of under your beautiful pastel skirts. Hvitserk sets the brushes into his cup of water and sets aside Xiao’s painting to dry.

“Hvitserk!” 

“I’m here,” he blurts out. “I didn’t think you’d care. You didn’t call.” 

“Like I didn’t I call you all night.” 

Something cracks, deep in his belly. With all the days of work he’d done for you and you alone, he forgot himself in the mix. He jerked his phone back, frantically looking at his phone app. No recent calls meant what they meant. When he finds nothing, it only thrusts him into a further rage. 

“Bullshit,” he belts out. “You didn’t. You didn’t care about me last night. You never fuckin’ do.” 

“Hvit--” he turns off his phone. There was a sliver of a moment in which he regrets that on the basis of last night. Maybe you rejected him, but he wasn’t an idiot. A man simply didn’t cheat on his girlfriend because she said no. 

He packs up his bag and heads toward the football field. It’s time to play football.

He smashes Ubbe on the field. If he wasn’t at peace with being an illustrator, maybe he could have been a ballplayer. Flipping the ball from foot to foot with Ubbe on his trailing his tail was fun, but watching him try and miss as he thwacked the ball on its net was even better. Unlike Ubbe’s well-proportioned body, he’s all long limbs and quick feet. Just the right combination to slip out of Ubbe’s grasp. Well, that was, until Ubbe tackled his ass onto the blades of grass, sending the both of them rolling through the grasp.

“Bro, really?!” Hvitserk laughs, dropping back onto the grass. The skid marks on his clothes would be unreal. 

“If I can’t catch you,” Ubbe heaves, digging his hand into his pocket. He finds his phone there, vibrating with messages from Torvi: probably. Hvitserk shoves his arms behind his neck, drawing out breath after ragged breath. 

“Wanna go eat?” 

“Na,” Ubbe shoves himself onto your feet. “Your girl is here.”

His what? Ubbe rushes off. A sinking feeling came over his clammy hands. He opens his mouth to beg him not to go, to take him along with like he used to as a child. He’s terrible at making up and hours ago, he’d hung up on you. His lips press together, soothing himself with the false pretense that-- no, it would be fine. If you didn’t apologize, perhaps neither would he. 

He finds you on the other side of the soccer field, fashioning his favorite sundress. There’s something glamorous about its corset bodice and its draped sleeves that left him breathless. He wills down his terrible arousal, drawn to the pendant he bought you nestled between your large breasts. You wait for him by his things, pulling the rim of a broad pale hat and looking down at beautiful chunky nude heels. 

You’re beautiful and terrifying all in one. He regains himself enough to make his legs solidify from the liquidy mass they were seconds ago. He might feel much like a newborn calf falling over himself to get his things, but perhaps he looked better than he felt. Women like sweaty, stupid men, right?

“What are you doing here?” he picks up his things. “I thought you didn’t like to be seen in public.”

“You hung up on me,” you hold his tablet flush against your dress and offer it out to him. He takes it and secures it back in his bag. “I had to come to find you.” 

“Yeah? I’ll bet.” Hvitserk wills down the painful throbbing behind his joggers, pulling his bag to obscure the pain he was in. The sooner he went home, the sooner he could jerk himself off without the overwhelming guilt of being, as he was, a whore. Why couldn’t he stay mad? He wanted to stay mad! “You look... nice. Never seen you looking so nice. What’s the occasion?” 

“You like it?” You pull out the skirt and stop to do a twirl that he curses himself for stopping for. Normally, his girl wouldn’t even go outside. Who was this? He’s aware of others watching-- the fat girl in a flashy dress. “I wore it for you.”

“Yeah, I do.” He moistens his lips, his voice raspy and thick. “Looks like an angel.” 

“Does that mean you’ll come back home?” You reach out for him. Your soft hands winding around his well-corded arm. He realizes then, the confidence in which you carried yourself masked the desperation in your hands. They trembled over his bicep. “I’ll be good, I promise I won’t yell at you again like that. I wouldn’t even be mad if you-- you found someone else to fuck. I know you-- I know you need it. If you can’t get it from me, I can wait on the side. As long as you’re not in love.”

“Hey,” he softened, settling his hand atop of yours. He stops midstep, turning on his high tops on the sidewalk. He takes your hands and listens waits for your outpouring of emotion. Traffic passes by him. They speak in hushed whispers. “Hey, hey, hey. Baby girl wait-- that’s not -- what are you talking about?”

“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that but you were pushing and pushing and wouldn’t stop! I didn’t know what to do. I want to have sex with you,” you squeeze his fingertips. “But you don’t know what it’s like to be fat, old virgin.” 

He was trying to listen. He really was. The moment you spoke that word: that v-word, his mind went blank and numb. You’re still talking long after he’s stopped listening. Hvitserk sucks in a breath: it sends him into a flurry, pursuing the bone of your virginity long after you’ve stopped talking.

“What do you--” his lips twitch, drawing in a smile. “--mean a virgin?” 

“I haven’t had sex-- I… I wanted to--” 

His girl-- a virgin. He wants to smile, if not for the knowledge of the other night, waking up in Erika’s itchy sheets. Hvitserk knows that he has to tell you, he only doesn’t know how. You’re talking again. 

“What did you say?” he asks. 

“I want you to do it,” you answer. “Right now. Just forgive me.” 

He about drops, a moistness coming over his mouth that he can’t-- exactly-- help. His palms feel just as hot, sweating as he pulls them free from yours. Clearing his throat, he slips his hand against the small of your back. 

“Na, let’s… let’s take it easy. We’ll talk ‘bout it later.” 

He wants that virginity. 

But logically, oh woe is he, he knows it’s not really right to take someone’s virginity if they’re not all there. You’re not all there because you don’t know of that night. It’s like, consent, right? Bad consent was just jerking your ankle like some Viking and dragging you into bed with him. If he was going to do it, he told himself, you had to know what he’d done. 

It was a slip-up. 

Hvitserk finished another drawing for his new book independent of your input. It was a children’s book about good bodies-- because as he looked at your good body, he was reminded of Ericka’s cruel words. He wanted to do better for lil kids.

“Hvitserk, your phone is ringing,” you said pointedly from across the room where you sat like a madwoman. Your frantic papers sat nestled around a basket of shared chicken he made for lunch. 

“Huh?” Tapping over, he recognizes Erika’s photo, planting a kiss on his cheek on his first big break. She had been the first one to really believe in him. It was a long time ago now, he reminds himself to change that to something more… suitable after last night. He gestures his fingers at you. “Thanks, baby girl.”

He answers the phone. The moment he does, he hears Erika’s flat voice snaking into a hiss. It’s a noise that he hasn’t heard. Not in all his years of having her as his patient agent. 

“You’re with her, aren’t you?” 

“No, I’m uh-- with Ubbe.” He throws you a glance. You tilt your head, he shakes his, and that’s the terrible loneliness of holding a secret. “Erika--” Hvitserk sighs, parting his lips to talk. She shushes him with such severity that he thinks she’s trying to lop his head off, too. 

“Break it off.” 

“What?”

He steps outside and leans against the cold metal door separating the high-rise apartments from, well, the outside world. He expects to see her standing out there. All he finds are the many cars parked on the street and the stillness of movement. It’s too quiet. The whistle of the wind through the street chills him. 

“I know you’re with her. I can tell her for you if you’d like.” 

“No. Don’t--” Hvitserk sighs, searching for the words in the silence. “I don’t think you understand. We worked through it.” 

She laughs something from deep in her belly at him.

“I wasn’t asking. Either you do it— or I’ll make you do it. You obviously don’t know what’s best for yourself. Why else are you fucking around with some--” He collapses on the stairs, cradling the phone to his ear as she goes on. “Don’t think I won’t expose her for what she is. A thief.”

“She’s never-- Why the fuck are you doing this?”

“You told me you would take care of it. Something you’ve failed to do-- I should have known you couldn’t do it. ”

“If this shit is about yesterday--” 

“I’ll give you one more chance to break it off if you come over tonight.” 

“Are you blackmailing me?” There’s a pause on the other line. Then a chuckle. A long winded, painful chuckle. He should have known better. That night-- calling it an accident wasn’t exactly tolerable for a woman like Erika. She wasn’t the kind of woman who could be easily ignored.

“If that’s what I have to do.” 

 He chokes out a sob. Ivar was right. She wasn’t going to let him go.

“Fuckin’-- fuckin’ fine.” 

@punkrocknpearls​ @flowers-in-your-hayr @tephi101 @alicedopey​ @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @destynelseclipsa @soleil-dor @strangunddurm @superwolfchild-fan @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

[fallen029]

Adult Swim

Laxus was very careful as he sank into the steamy water of the bathhouse, hissing as his muscles and wounds all cried out momentarily from the heat, but this was quickly quelled as the soothing affect of whatever the water had been infused with won out.

It had been a long, hard few days for him.

It was rare for a job to go so poorly.

Sneering some to himself as he played back the vents of the past week or so, Laxus was certain that this was not only a fluke, but one that he wouldn't easily come across again. It wasn't even that his opponents had truly bested him a battle, but rather outsmarted him. Though this should have made it hurt less, the sting felt more sharp, as he could always prove his magical prowess, but mental was much more difficult.

He felt ashamed.

When he was a little boy, if he returned from a job unsuccessful, he'd do so with his tail between his legs, avoiding his father and grandfather as not to admit to them his folly. As he grew, he stop returning from those sorts of jobs at all. Rather, he had pretty sound record for doing all that he could to take care of anything he was hired for.

It was very rare for him to be bested.

Much less outwitted.

"It's going to hurt your teeth in the long run, if you keep doing that, dragon," he heard a voice through the steaminess of the room and though it was difficult to place her, his mind was calmed at the sound. "Grinding them like that. Are you in that much pain?"

Instead of answering, he called out to the woman, "What's with the temp, huh? And what's in this water? You do this all for me?"

"Of course, Laxus." And he found her now, edging into the giant pool of water the room was mostly filled with. At the sound of her sinking into the water as well, he stiffened some, listening in rapt silence as she assured him, "I'd do anything for you."

Stifling some, he coughed a bit before questioning, "Are you sure we're alone?"

"Would I be here," she questioned as water sifted around had he could hear her, swimming towards him, "if we weren't?"

"No," he gave in as, even if their relationship was more public, he couldn't imagine her risking such a stunt around the others. "But…"

"But?"

And she was before him now, completely visible even in the heavy steam and Laxus reached out to brush his bruised knuckles against her pale cheek, getting just a hint of red to appear at the gesture. She was as nude as he was, the water only hiding everything just beneath the mid-level of her breasts and Laxus was disappointed that the steam did keep him from any glimpses of more.

"But," he went on as he smiled for the first time in days and it hurt a bit, all of him hurt a bit, maybe, treading water there with the demon, it was the good kind. "We could pretend."

"Mmm," she hummed as she turned her head, when he tried to kiss her. This was no problem for the slayer though as he only pressed his lips to her rosy cheek instead, humming some himself as he heard her continue, "I don't like that much, Lax. Pretending."

"Is that right?" he whispered with an edge of husk. "Demon?"

"I like things that are just more," she remarked as she ran a hand down his chest, dipping a bit lower, beneath the water level, "real, you know?"

"It's all pretend, demon, if you think about it," he reasoned, maybe a bit, hissing some as her hand deviated at the last moment, coming up a bit to stroke at one of his bruised hips instead. "What the fuck even is magic? Or this? Any of this? A guild. Jobs. What the fuck ever happened to running a shop or a store or fuck, do people even raise cows anymore? And chickens and shit? Why is it all magic and bullshit? I want to be a farmer."

She was quiet the entire time he was speaking, letting the man get it all out of his system, before the most feminine of giggles escaped her lips and he cupped one of her breasts, sighing some at the sound.

"Do you always give up when something does go your way?" she asked. "Dragon?"

"What are you talking about?" he questioned as his toothy grin fell a bit. "Just spending time with my woman. My demon."

"You're sulking," she told him softly and, annoyed by this, Laxus shifted away from her somewhat.

"I'm injured."

"Are you?"

"I am."

"Then why did you not come into the infirmary?" Mira asked. "Huh? Gone up stairs, gotten all bandaged up and medicated-"

"When I could have you just put some sorta shit in the bathhouse water? Heat it up for me all nice?" Snorting, Laxus questioned, "I'm a very important person, ain't I?"

"The most important," she offered.

"You kid."

"I'm not."

"But," he insisted, "I'm serious. I want you to make over me, demon."

"Well," she began with a click of her tongue, "I'm not one to judge, but you could do for a some concealer and your lashes are so great, but could you imagine them fuller? Because I have."

"What?" Laxus frowned down at her for a moment before remarking, "Mira, I mean I want you to tell me how great I am and how I need to keep my head up and I'll get them next time and that I'm still the greatest slayer of all time and-"

"I get it." Mira even smiled. "You want me to stroke your ego."

"I want you to stroke a lot of things."

"Laxus-"

"But yes." And his grin returned, toothier than ever before. "My ego is so bruised."

"Bullshit."

"Mira." Laxus made a face, confused by her language. "What-"

"You've been hurt before." This time when her hand pressed against his chest, it was to push it, hard. "Badly. Been down to some of the lowest of depths."

"Why are you-"

"And you've felt bad about yourself," she kept up and he was shifting backwards, until his back was against the pool wall and he took in a deep breath. "A lot, actually. You hide it better, usually, but I've seen you when you're really upset. Lax. When you get all quiet and reserved and you won't even talk to your little body guards. Or me."

"You studying me, woman?"

"I know you. From being around you." She pressed herself against him and Laxus shut his eyes for a moment, as she added, "From being in love with you."

He took in a breath, Laxus did, before whispering, "What is it then, doc? What's wrong with me?"

She hummed again and the sound felt heavenly, as she almost seemed to do so in a tune. It had been a long week, as Laxus has surmised before, but now he longed for a late night, in apartment, with the demon strumming at her guitar as he laid around, listening. Watching.

It wasn't unlike how they were now.

He wanted her so badly now, in that moment, and whatever he'd originally been angling for was beginning to get edged out. But just as he was planning on making a real move, the woman spoke.

"I think you're worried about something."

"W-What?"

"I think," Mirajane kept up, "that something has you worried. Dragon."

"I don't worry about shit," he grumbled. "I'm the fucking top dog around here."

"Top dragon."

"Damn straight." He puffed out his chest. "I run this place. I control it. Me."

"Laxus, you only show up like once a month. If that. And that's only to flirt with me."

He didn't dispute this, but rather countered, "And yet I'm still the most fucking important. I always has been. I'm the Dreyar. I'm the reason this whole thing exists. Me."

"All that and you're just a farmer."

"So what the fuck," he kept up, "do I have to be worried about?"

"It's gonna be a cold autumn," Mira mused, "so I suppose your crops."

"I'm practically a Wizard Saint."

"Sure," she agreed, "if you don't include any of the glory or voting or prestige and you're only even in the consideration because of Master-"

"Fuck, Mira."

"Sorry." She was the one to shift away then, tossing up both hands. "You can play pretend about being a Wizard Saint if you want to."

"It's not that." Huffing, the man told her, "You know that I don't wanna fucking hear about him right now. The old man."

"You can't possibly still be fighting with him."

"Why do I have to be anything about him right now?" Laxus questioned. "Huh? I mean god, Mira, we're about to fuck."

"Are we?"

"Are we?" He questioned back with a raised eyebrow, but Mira only made a face.

"You both are so stupid, you know that?"

"Demon-"

"You are," she insisted. "You're fighting with an old man, Laxus."

"I'm skinny dipping with my girlfriend, Mira."

"What did he even do to you, huh? Just because-"

"You always take his side."

"He's my Master." She was acting as if he were the stupid one. "Of course I do."

"I'm your boyfriend." Laxus frowned. "I'd think that trumps that."

"Boyfriend, master, boyfriend, master, boyfriend, master." Mira held her palms out, lifting them on alternating intervals, as if weighing her options." Boyfriend-"

"Knock it off," he finally remarked. "Your wording is kinda creeping me out."

"Master wasn't trying to pick a fight with you," she tired instead. "Honest. He just-"

"What are you now? His parrot?" the slayer complained. "And what is this? A setup? Did you purposely lure me here?"

"Lure?" She snorted. "Hardly."

"Tricking me with implications of sex-"

"You," she remarked with a sharply pointed finger, "got naked in this pool first. Not me."

"You stripped down in the men's section and got into it with me!" He couldn't believe they were now arguing over this, but, well, Laxus never rightly could let someone else feel as if they had one. "I'm not the one in the wrong here. If anything, considering you work here, you're kind of abusing your privileges now."

"Who are you going to tell? Your grandfather?" Mira huffed, not liking the idea of being beaten either. "No, considering you won't even talk to him."

"You did set me up!"

"Laxus-"

"This is unbelievable." He shook his head. "I have half the mind to leave right now." When Mira glanced at him though, he added, "I mean, I'm not going to, but-"

"You've been acting like an asshole for two solid months," Mira interrupted. "You know that? And everyone's been worried about It. And then you came back from this job unsuccessful and I just thought.."

"You just thought what? Huh? That you would corner me and make me and my grandfather make up?"

"I thought that I would figure out what's been up with you."

"Demon-"

"But yes," she admitted then and she shifted closer to him once more, staring up into the man's hard eyes. "I did kinda sorta know it's been about the Master this whole time."

"That's shady." And he got to wag his own finger then. "You know that?"

"He's old, Laxus," she defended then. "And has been all bent out of shape too, this whole time, because the two of you are on the outs."

"Has he ever heard of apologizing?"

"Have you?"

"That's not-"

"What was it even about? Huh?" Mira reached out and up then, for his cheek, but Laxus turned away and the affects were wearing off. In the water. He could feel it. Whatever magic she'd infused was dissipating and now they were just in a boiling pot of steamy water for no reason. "Dragon…"

"You don't know everything, Mira." Laxus still refused to look at her. "He's my grandfather. Yeah, he's something to you. He's something to all of you. But I'm different. He's different, to me. You don't understand."

"That's true," Mira whispered after a moment of allowing them man his moment to feel just in that assessment. "But I know that I love the two of you, very much-"

"Awe, gross, demon-"

"I do. Your grandfather is very special to me-"

"You're intent on ruining this moment, huh? Just absolute deadset on it?"

"It would just make me happy, Laxus," she decided, finally, to land on. "Alright? Seeing both of you bent out of shape at the other bothers me. I know that he can be overbearing and obnoxious and perverted-"

"Yeah, one of those, thankfully, isn't as big of an issue for me-"

"-but he's my master." When she reached out that time, it was to physically grab his face, holding his jaw in her grasp as she forced the man to keep eye contact with her. It truly did feel like being in the death grip of a demonic force. "And you're my boyfriend. Who I think is handsome and caring and generous and powerful and strong-"

"Go on," the man tried to get out, but it was difficult around her grip.

"But-"

"No buts."

"-you're also stubborn." She released his jaw then, but he didn't look away. Only glared as the woman insisted, "You have the ego the size of a small village and you can never swallow even an ounce of your massive pride."

"Yeah, well, you cry sometimes and it really bums me out. What about that, huh? And you have dorky siblings. So there."

"Laxus-"

"What do you want me to say, Mira?" he asked defensively.

She only shook her head. "You're both Dreyar men. Which means that you're hardheaded and have a hard time making up with others. I get that. I've seen that. I've lived that. But it would just mean a lot to me if I didn't feel like I was walking on eggshells between two of my favorite people in the whole world."

He slumped some, in the water, and all she'd wanted had escaped her now, leaving the two of them in a steamy bath, alone still, in an empty guildhall, how they always liked to be, but the mood was off and neither saw it being recaptured.

The night ended with Mira leaving him alone in the bath area, while she finished closing up the hall and when Laxus returned to her, it wasn't with malice or disappointment, but just a dreary tiredness that she felt as well.

Makarov was around the guildhall that next morning, grumbling into his first mug of coffee Mira presented to him, but she merely forced a smile for the old man and, well, it was hard ot stay mad at that.

But somehow he managed.

It was a normal day of there ever could be one in the Fairy Tail guildhall regulars intermingled with those returning only for a short stay while Mirajane and Kinana served them the warmest of breakfasts in the early hours and stiffest of ales the rest.

When Laxus showed up around noon, it was to find the Thunder Legion already there, prepared to lick the man's wounds for him, and he would attend to that, of course, eventually, but he had something of a ritual in those days. Mirajane was his woman after all, and it was hardly an uncommon sight in those days to glimpse the slayer leaning against the bar as he gruffly flirted with the woman in a way only a demon could appreciate.

But when he leaned against the bar that day, it wasn't to complement the woman on her dress or request one of those stiff drinks for himself.

No.

Though Mira was before him in mere seconds, Laxus wasn't rightly looking to her as his vision was instead on where the old man sat, perched atop the bar with his staff in one hand and a mean look in his typically jolly eyes.

"Ay, Gramps."

Makarov seemed equally surprised as he was apprehensive and defensive, right out of the gate, as he turned his dark eyes onto his grandson, prepared for whatever the young man might send the way. It was difficult for him to even remember, really, what the two of them were so mad about now, weeks out, but oh, he knew he wished he could go back and tar young Laxus' hide even more, if it meant putting even the smallest amount of respect into the boy's future self.

But he threw the old man off, Laxus did, as he smiled in a rather comfortable way, toothy, but not exactly showy, offering simply, "You ever think about doing work around here or what?"

It would've felt tense, were it anyone else, but this was hardly a true slinging of words out of the mouth of Laxus, especially to his grandfather and Makarov lost the anger behind his eyes, it instead being replaced momentarily by confusion though that quickly morphed into something else.

Annoyance.

But a pretend one, as his brows weren't even furrowed and his grumbled voice felt far more mellow than when the man truly was agitated.

"And what do you know of work, Laxus?" he huffed. "Nothing much, from what I hear."

"What do you hear, old man?"

"More than you do, with that damn music always playing in your ears."

He laughed, maybe, or at least Laxus made a strange noise as he said, "Every time I come around her recently, you're sitting around doin' nothin' while my poor demon's working herself damn near to death on your behalf. Why is that?"

"Laxus," Mira warned, finally speaking up some, but Makarov only snorted at his grandson.

"Mirajane enjoys helping me," the man defended. "She's actually grateful for my presence, unlike you, you big brat. Always have been. So ungrateful."

"I'm grateful for plenty, Gramps." His smile for Mira felt different, when Laxus looked at her, but it was brief as he was quickly remarking, "Not exactly the conversation to be havin' in front of everyone though. Showing you up."

"Why you-"

'So," Laxus kept up, not allowing the older man's gripes as he said, "how 'bout I take you out to dinner tonight?"

"W-What?" This stopped Makarov short.

Laxus merely shrugged "Me and my demon have been thinkin' about trying that new place down by the canal. The one that replaced the old card shop? But if you don't want to join us-"

"I didn't say that." Makarov looked to Mirajane then. "Did you put him up to this?"

"I don't know anything about this, Master," she told him honestly before, tilting her head, she admitted, "Although, I have been wanting to try that place. But it's rather expensive and with how slow things have been around here recently-"

"Good thing you have a flashy boyfriend that can't wait to treat you to it then," Makarov remarked to the woman. "Not to mention his grandfather-"

"Is that what I agreed to?" Laxus griped himself a bit before, leaning across the bar once more, it was to press a short kiss against Mira's cheek. Then, taking a step back, he only glanced between the two of them before saying, "Buncha leeches, the two of you."

"Yes, well," Makarov began as he jumped down then, from the bar top so that he could stare up at his towering grandson. "I guess I do have some paperwork I should attend to. Before the evening rolls around."

"I left a stack on your desk, Master," Mira called after him as, with a sharp nod at the by then void once more Laxus, the man set off for his office. "And Laxus," she called after him as well, when he headed over to where his three best friend were trying hard to not appear as if they had been eavesdropping on every last thing that had just taken place between the two Dreyar men, "I'll be over in a minute with your drink."

It would actually be more than a few, but that was fine, as by that point Freed had set into the job board, Evergreen had found herself busy definitely not flirting with Elfman Strauss across the bar, and Bickslow busied himself with torturing whichever sucker in the bar would tolerate him and his strange dolls.

Mira came over bearing the man's favorite ale. As she leaned down to place it on his table though, she reached over to grasp one of Laxus' headphones, pulling it away some so she could whisper in it instead.

"Thank you."

"Ay, demon." He moved to snatch the headphone back. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure," she giggled while Laxus glanced about, checking it seemed for listening ears before speaking again.

"My muscles," he told her in confidence, "are still rather tense. Even after last night. Maybe tonight, after dinner-"

"I'll have to come back here afterwards, I suppose," she hummed with a glint in her eyes. "To help Kinana clear out the late night crowd. I could be persuaded to adjust the water to your liking, while I close up."

"Taking the old geezer to dinner was the persuasion, demon."

"Laxus-"

"Just count on a late night swim, huh?" He moved to grab his ale then while the woman was distracted by the call of someone on the other side of the bar, complaining about refills. "I'll be leaving on a job again, pretty soon, you know."

"You'll have to." Mira was leaving him then, off to deal with her daily toil. "Me and Master are planning on eating you out of house and home."

"Yeah, well," he sighed softly to himself as he brought the mug up to his lips. "It's what I get for consorting with a demon."

.

I think Makarov is one of my favorite extra person to add to Mirajane and Laxus, right beside Lisanna.

[thedistrictsleepsalonetonight]

Your mess is mine

Sue may only be a math major, but she knows this much about telling a story: it needs to have a beginning, middle, and an end.  

If she were to sit down and write one, here is where it would start — Emily laughs and she falls in love. It doesn’t matter the year, the month, or the minute; when Emily laughs, she falls in love. Sue’s a little slow when these things are concerned, love doesn’t come to her as quickly or as easily as it has historically come to Emily. I saw you in the coffee shop and I knew you were the one, she’s fond of telling Sue, usually during fights. It’s highly annoying that Emily thinks it’d work on her. Even more annoying is the fact that it does. 

Alright, does she have moments of intense déjà vu sometimes? Like when they’re lying in bed, after one of Austin’s house parties, and Sue curls up into Emily’s soft shoulders, plays with her pretty, pretty hands? Or when she catches Emily conked out in front of her laptop in a corner table at the café on her break and gently wakes her up? Sure. But isn’t that what love is? The same five gestures repeated in infinite ways, creating a well of infinite affection. So if walking the steps with Emily settles deep into her bones without flinching, as if they’ve done this before, she’s convinced that it’s because they’re well and truly perfect together. 

(Definitely not because — and this is something that has been occurring to her more and more lately — they were star-crossed lovers in a past life a century ago.) 

(That would be crazy.) 

(Right?) 

***** 

Falling in love aside, Emily can be really, infuriatingly, secretive about the worst of things. Sometimes it is charming, watching her having to pick her way through multiple explanations, create long-winded detours just to attempt to confuse Sue into getting exasperated enough to drop the subject altogether. But that’s at the very end, when it turns out that she was going to all this trouble to make sure Sue wasn’t going to find out she’d gotten her that one Hawaiian shirt Sue had off-handedly admired once, aeons ago. Or that she’s been holed up in their room all day because she’s been setting up lights in honor of it being exactly six months since they first hugged. Which is why she is more resigned that surprised when Lavinia sits down in front of her, leans in, and asks her what she’s doing for Emily’s birthday next week. 

Sue sneaks a look at Emily who is currently chatting with an old lady who usually comes in on the weekends. Her girlfriend happens to be one of those baristas who is beloved by the elderly, God only knows why. All the older ladies will hang back at the counter and tell her all about their grandkids’ schools and ballet recitals. In return, Emily will rant to them about college and apparently, Sue as well, which was something she discovered one day when she walked in and two old ladies gave her teasing yet approving smiles from their table. 

(And then took her aside to whisper — Showing a little skin wouldn’t do any harm and would keep your girl on her toes — which near about killed her)  

The entire situation is hilarious. Also the most adorable thing she has ever seen. 

“Why haven’t you guys discussed your birthdays yet?” 

“It’s just never,” Sue muses, “come up, I guess.” 

Austin rollerblades past, swivels to a stop and bends so he’s approximately level with their faces. “Are we talking about,” he says, lowering his voice to a comical whisper, “Emily’s birthday?” 

Lavinia pulls him down, so he’s sitting on the spare chair. “And Sue’s, apparently. Did you know her birthday falls, like, nine days after Emily’s?” 

Austin stares at her, wide-eyed. “That means it’s on the.... 19th? 

Sue nods. 

“The 19th of December? After Emily’s birthday, on the 10th of December?” 

“Y....es?” 

He swipes at his phone, taps a couple of buttons, and then looks up with a smug smile. “I knew I remembered something. Look.” 

Lavinia has to angle her whole body to see, but it registers for both of them at the same time. A certain poet and her muse, who also apparently shared the same birthday as her and Emily. 

“Huh,” Lavinia says. “Maybe there is something to Emily’s theory after all.” 

“You mean Emily’s theory that we’re the reincarnations of those two?” she asks, hearing her own voice get progressively more hysterical by the word. She clears her throat, takes a deep breath, adds it to the list of rapidly growing coincidences in her head that she’s never going to give a closer look to, because that would be crazy. 

“Really the only part of this I’m genuinely shocked by,” Lavinia says after a long pause, in which Sue is struggling to reason with the logical part of her brain, “is that Austin remembers Emily Dickinson’s birthday.” 

Austin smiles proudly, and the thought is so funny that it drives potential insanity out of her mind eventually. 

***** 

“Why didn’t you tell me your birthday’s tomorrow?” 

Emily startles from where she’s staring out the window of the car, and Sue has about a moment to regret blurting it out before they’re looking at each other. She’d spent the entire week setting up the entire thing for Emily and now it probably won’t even be a surprise, but she’s insanely curious. No better time for it, either way. She’d planned everything perfectly, from picking up Emily at the café in the classy car she’d borrowed from Austin, to making sure it wasn’t too late after dinner. And yet, here they were, surrounded by cars and honking people because traffic was a fickle bitch. 

“Is that why we’re taking this trip?” she asks, wide-eyed. 

Sue extends a hand towards her, ruffles up her hair, feeling fond. Trust her idiot girlfriend to not have figured it out yet. She moves her hand to Emily’s cheek, and feels Emily cover it with her own. Feels a soft kiss pressed against her palm. 

“What did you think it was, dumdum?” 

“Well, it is the three month anniversary of—” Sue’s alarm is probably showing on her face, so she backtracks quickly. “Kidding. Kidding. There’s nothing tomorrow.” 

Sue pinches at her cheek. “Except your birthday. Speaking of which—” 

“Eh,” Emily shakes her head, shuffles around on her seat awkwardly, “it’s.... uh, complicated.” 

“Is the complication that you happen to share a birthday with a poet from long ago?” she’s only half-joking.  

Emily laughs at that. “Caught on, did you? Did you also check—” 

“E-yup.” 

“That your birthday is also—” 

“E-yup,” she says. Then turns to look at Emily. “Wait. How do you know when my birthday is?” 

Emily opens her mouth, but before she can say anything Sue hurriedly cuts in. “And you’re not allowed to say you have your ways.” 

Years ago, when Sue was fourteen, one day her dad and her mom came home with the same vegetable. Same quantity. It was beans, and she could vividly remember all three of them staring down in mock dismay at the two separate huge bundles of beans that now took up most of the space on the table. Then they started comparing prices. Turns out her mother’s bundle had cost a couple cents lesser than her father’s. But it’s not the same , her mother had insisted, holding up both the bundles. See, yours weighs more. I think the grocer I bought it from took some off . 

To this day, she defines love as the way her mother’s hand fell over his, combined with the way her dad looked at her next — like a child who had just been told that the blanket fort he’d spent hours constructing, wasn’t going to be torn down. Like someone had just handed a piece of the world to him, and told him to make of it whatever he wanted.  

Sue recognizes it in the way Emily looks at her. Like she’s saying — Of course. Of course, you know me well enough to guess the next stupid thing that comes out of her mouth. 

(She’s not very good at love, but she hopes Emily can read the answer in her eyes just the same) 

“Birthdays are complicated,” Emily says, slowly. “I’ve had some very good ones and then some very bad ones.” First girlfriend who she asked out on her 20th birthday, and second girlfriend who she broke up with a week before her 23rd; Sue fills in the blanks as she talks. “So I guess I try not to tell people so I myself don’t expect anything out of it. Neutral birthdays are better than euphoric ones or sad ones, because at least they don’t haunt me forever.” 

“Baby,” she says, and then trails off. Sometimes she likes calling Emily endearments, or just say her name out loud, randomly, even if there’s no statement attached to it. The sentiment’s always the same, however. I’m glad you exist. I’m glad you found me. I like your name. I love you.  

(Emily’s fallen asleep by the time she’s driven to the top of the grassy knoll, by the time the clock hits midnight. Sue lets her sleep through it. There will be time to sit on top of the blanket and watch a sleepy Emily blow out the candles on a tiny cake that looks like a typewriter, to stare at the stars all night long while they listen to soft, slow songs on a pair of shared earphones. For now, Sue watches Emily sleep, head tilted against the glass and decides to hold off on telling her she loves her until the day after her birthday. It’s a perfectly neutral birthday. No use in spoiling it.) 

(Emily says it back though, in case anyone was wondering) 

***** 

Sometimes, when Sue sees Emily cooking for her, she loses her breath. 

(And sometimes, it’s not even due to the smoke from a burned dish) 

But there’s something peaceful about watching Emily cook, especially if she hasn’t yet cottoned onto the fact that Sue’s watching her. She’s one of those annoying people who always has their headphones on, so most of her cooking in the kitchen involves perfectly timing the beats with the swipes of her spatula. Sometimes she spins around in the middle of a pancake flip to see if she can catch it in midair. Juvenile shenanigans aside, what really gets Sue, even after almost a year of having watched Emily dance around in the kitchen is the care with which she handles food that they will eat. It’s so different to the kind of food she cooks when she’s just cooking for herself. Sue’s seen her slap on two days expired cheese on top of a tortilla and call it lunch. And yet. 

And yet. Sue will have the best of things. Lasagna that’s still steaming. A sandwich filled with the most delicious ingredients. Waffles topped with cream that Emily will get up early in the morning to get for her. Food enhanced with care, made better with love. 

Why don’t you make those nice things for yourself, she’s asked on multiple occasions, to which Emily’s always shrugged. It’s just me. I can have almost anything. 

(Emily deserves the best. Sue will make sure she has it) 

There are flowers on the table, an assortment of daffodils and lilies arranged on a vase. Right in between two shiny plates laid out with napkins folded carefully beside them. Sue slides into one of the chairs quietly, rests her elbows on the table and waits for Emily to finally turn around. 

There is a panicked scream when she does. Sue doesn’t want to be that girlfriend, but this is definitely going on the list of stories she’ll tell their future kids when they’ve grown. 

(Another day she would worry about how the term — Their kids — moves around in her chest comfortably like a sip of hot cocoa. Today, exactly one year to the day Emily told her she liked her, she shrugs it off) 

“You weren’t supposed to wake up for another half an hour at least.” 

Sue hums. “You did tire me out last night, that is true.” 

“Sue!” Emily says, scandalized, face rapidly turning red. “I — that’s highly — okay wait, first things first....” 

She walks over to the table, and bends to kiss Sue.  

“Happy anniversary.” 

Sue closes her eyes, kisses both her cheeks in response. “Happy anniversary, my love.” 

Emily grins back, then stands again. “Either way,” she says, as she ladles soup onto a bowl, and gathers multiple plates on a tray to subsequently bring to the table, “brunch! Courtesy of your beautiful girlfriend who finally managed to figure out how to make the perfect chicken pot pie without burning down the house, or worse, giving you salmonella.” 

Sue inspects what lies in front of her. “Babe, this looks amazing.” 

Emily looks proud, as she sits on the other chair. “And that’s not all, okay? This is just the start. Today evening I have gotten us both tickets to—” 

“Move in with me.” 

When Emily blinks, Sue startles. The words that had just come out of her mouth definitely weren’t well-thought-out, but now she was thinking about it and it seemed like all she ever wanted in life. To go to sleep with Emily, and wake her up in time for her morning classes, to be able to see her all the time, and not have to watch her go. 

“That wasn’t my gift, by the way,” she adds, speaking fast, thinking of the limited-edition original copies of a book she’d driven five hours to the next town to get. “But it’s what I want. Us. Living together. I love you. We should.... uh, live together so — uh, okay Emily make me stop talking please.” 

Emily shuts her up with a kiss. When they separate, she stays close to Sue, looking right into her eyes with that soft, soft expression.  

“Are you sure?” she asks. 

Sue takes in a deep breath. Nods. “Yeah.” 

Emily considers that for a moment. Then says with a teasing smile — “I thought this violated your relationship rules.” 

“What ae you—” 

“No kissing before the second date. No celebrating six-month anniversaries because that’s for dummies. No moving in before at least two years of dating—” 

“And if you remember correctly,” Sue cuts in, smoothly, “I kissed you two days before our first date. And serenaded you with a Taylor Swift song at the café on our six-month anniversary.” 

“You did do that,” Emily says, quietly. 

“And as long as we’re on the subject, I hate staying up past 11, or listening to sad girl music in the car, or watching that horrendous show about those two annoying men fake-dating,” Sue tells her, “but — it is my greatest honor that I get to do that for you. And with you. Emily, if you haven’t figured it out already, you’re kinda the exception to every single one of my rules.” 

Sue reads Emily’s answer in the kiss she receives next. 

***** 

The middle, the middle, everything boils down to the middle. It’s what Sue sometimes hears Emily muttering to herself in the middle of the night when she has an assignment due the next day. Sue will blink, look over to the desk where Emily is planted with her nightlight on, hands in her hair. Sometimes Sue will keep blinking slowly, taking in the sight of Emily typing until she falls asleep. Sometimes Emily will notice that she’s up, walk over to the bed, and hum snippets of songs until she’s drifting off again.  

And for all the beauty of the beginning, of first kisses and first dates and first times, there’s something to be said about the fifteenth time Emily plays her something on the ukulele, warning her beforehand that her voice might crack. Or the sixtieth burger she runs across the campus to hand over to Emily when she knows she’s got back-to-back classes scheduled. About the hundredth time she falls into bed, and scooches over, eyes closed, until Emily’s wriggling body is aligned against hers. There’s peace in knowing that a first time will inevitably lead to a second time, and then countless others.  

(There’s peace in knowing the middle lasts the longest)   

***** 

She knows she’s in trouble. Has known she’s in trouble the minute she came out of the store and discovered that there was a pileup on the highway. And then when Lavinia called her panicking because their house-warming slash house party was getting out of control because of a lack of beer and a general overabundance of Austin. And then when her phone died in the middle of her conversation with Emily.  

(So much trouble) 

She’s exhausted by the time she makes it back to her apartment (their apartment , she corrects herself, smiling at the thought) and makes her way up the stairs, hearing the volume of the music increase with every step. Opens the door and is assailed with extremes — the tiny sparkling mirror ball someone’s managed to hook up to the ceiling, the dancing crowd in their living room, and a very loud and weirdly on-point Austin making guitar noises on the karaoke microphone. 

“Lavinia!” Sue calls out in relief, when she catches sight of her. “Where’s Emily?” 

Lavinia excuses herself from a group of frat boys hanging onto her every word and walks over. “Sue! Emily!” 

“Yeah, I know! Tell me where she is!” 

Sue points towards the ceiling, and in the same smooth motion, grabs the crate of beer from her hands. 

Sue’s out of there before the first cry of “Beer” permeates the air. She climbs another two floors, and then the metallic ladder to find Emily sitting there, wrapped in her blanket, glaring up at her. 

“You promised,” she says, flatly. 

Sue drops onto her knees and takes Emily’s cold hands in hers. “I know.” 

“No, you,” Emily repeats, then pauses, looking like she’s struggling, “you promised you were gonna be here, okay? I agreed to the housewarming thing only because you told me there wouldn’t be many people and you’d stay with me the whole time—” 

“—baby....” 

“No, don’t baby me. Let me finish.” Emily waits until Sue nods. “And then you went off to the store.” 

“We ran out of beer,” Sue says, feeling sheepish. 

“I know — I know that, okay?” Emily says. “I know there’s a reason, and probably a valid one but I’m mad, okay? You promised me something and then bailed. That’s not cool.” 

Sue adjusts so she’s properly sitting down right in front of Emily. “I’m sorry,” she says, and means it. “It was inexcusable.” 

Emily sighs, and seems to relax a little. “Okay. Thank you for saying that.” 

Sue nods. “Some party, huh?” she says, after a while. 

Emily smiles a little, then. “Did you see Austin? He was performing the High School Musical songs when I left.” 

She laughs. “When I came in, I think he was doing the guitar riff to Bohemian Rhapsody.” 

“Hey,” Emily says, after they’re done giggling at that. “I never asked. What took you so long? I thought you just went to get beer.” 

“Uh,” Sue says, “I’d rather not tell you.” 

“What? Why not?” 

“Because I don’t wanna charm my way out of you being mad at me.” 

“Oh,” Emily draws the sound out, teasingly. “It can’t possibly be that charming.” 

If she wanted to play it this way, then okay. 

“I stopped at an animal shelter on the way home. There’s a young cat there I thought we could adopt. Consider her a housewarming present.” 

“Oh,” Emily says, then in an undertone. “Damn it.” 

“Charmed?” 

“Ugh, fuck, okay,” Emily admits, then pulls at their joined hands till Sue gets on top of her lap. “I hate you. I love you, but I hate you.” 

Sue kisses her in return, settles in more comfortably. 

“Tell me about her?” Emily asks, softly, in the quiet. 

“Well, she chased the light reflected off my watch round and round so it’s safe to say she’s not the brightest.” 

“I love her already,” Emily assures her. 

***** 

On her eve of her 25th birthday, Sue walks into her apartment and finds Emily, Lavinia and Austin panicking over how to fit the last half of her last name onto limited space on a handmade banner. She says hi to Juggers and Iguana, their two cats, then picks up their two-month-old puppy Rooney, all before one of the three already present humans in the room realizes she’s there. 

“Sue, I’m so sorry,” Emily says, walking over to her and looking at her with a slightly desperate look in her eyes. “We tried baking cake, but it’s half burnt, but we can’t decide what to get and all we have are balloons but then Austin’s going crazy trying to keep Juggers from bursting them, because guess what? The cat is the devil—” 

“—babe—” 

“—no, I tried to make it a good birthday, I really did!” 

She puts her hands on either side of Emily’s face, which forces her to quiet down. Then she looks over at the others.  

“Have you guys been here the entire time I was taking classes?” 

They nod. 

She feels a little overwhelmed. “Guys, I — thank you so much,” she says, then takes stock of the situation. “Can you order pizza? We’ll ring in my birthday with pizza tonight.” 

Lavinia side-hugs her on their way out to the couch, and then they’re alone in the kitchen. She kisses Emily on the forehead, then on both cheeks, trying to drive away the frown. 

“What?” 

“I just wanted you to have a good birthday,” Emily says, despondent. 

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Sue says. “And so are our friends, who sat and worked this hard for hours trying to make me happy. And we’ll have pizza! We like pizza.” 

“You’re just saying that.” 

“No, you idiot” Sue explains, fondly. “I mean it. We’ll have burned cake, and we’ll fight over the pizza, and even if the animals are outnumbered, we’ll probably lose to them. And then we’ll probably watch a movie, and somehow all fall asleep on the carpet because Austin always claims the whole couch. Either way, it’ll be a good birthday, because I’m happy. And you know why I’m happy?” 

Emily’s still pouting. 

“Emily, why am I happy?” 

“Because we’re together,” Emily completes, in a small voice, and then finally, finally smiles. 

(It’s the messiest birthday Sue has ever had. Also the best) 

***** 

Here’s the thing about endings: everyone who writes stories knows they don’t really exist.  

A famous author once said that they weren’t really the end of the story, just where you chose to stop it. Well, Sue agrees. Which is why this story in her head never ends. The imaginary typewriter in her head will keep typing long after, filling pages with anniversaries and birthdays and emergency dog adoptions. Maybe the next page talks about the day Sue breaks her arm, and Emily proposes to her with an onion ring she gets out of the hospital vending machine. Or the day Lavinia loses Rooney, walks around the entire block with Austin to find him and finally discovers he’s hanging out at the old café they used to work at. 

So. Yes. This is where she decides to leave it. Finish it. There will be more stories to write later.

The end. 

(Wink wink. Nudge nudge.) 

[missdawnandherdusk]

Ace!Draco x Ace!Reader Headcanons:

A/n: so hey y’all. Guess what. I’m ace. That’s a new thing for me. Well not new but ya know like coming out of the closet new. So here’s to pride month and all of my other aces out there 🖤🤍💜 and here’s a bit of my journey... (slightly PG 13) ((and I know we’ve all seen gay/pan/bi Draco, but let me remind you of the 1% and shed some light into what ace can be))

You’re with another guy (let’s call him Steve) and you’ve been dating for a while

You’re a hopeless romantic and just love love but as soon as Steve pushes past second base you sort of shut down because it feels wrong

But it takes some time Steve insists it feels weird when it’s new so you ease into physical affection and then eventually to the devils tango

You lie awake in bed afterwards just wondering why you’re so conflicted. You loved the intimacy with Steve and the affection... just not the sex itself

His words swirl in your head “it feels weird because it’s new” so you keep doing it because you love Steve and you love being vulnerable but something still doesn’t feel right

You don’t say anything and sometimes you just give because you don’t want the sex but you still want that intimacy with Steve and it’s not like he’s complaining

Fourth year comes and so do the students from other schools and Viktor Krum and all of the girls and some guys are just drooling over him

And you can’t find the reason why... sure his face is symmetrical... and well you guess his eyes are a pretty color but you don’t see the reason to get all worked up

Then it dawns on you. You’ve never found anyone attractive. Not even Steve. Not that he wasn’t attractive maybe he was... you just didn’t see it as a factor into liking/loving/dating him. Body’s were cool and all but you didn’t really have a //type// ever. You looked for the right personality

You knew about asexuals your best friend is one you just never thought it would be you because you’re so different from your best friend she didn’t want a partner, but you craved it and you look into it a bit more and BY GOLLY EVERYTHING MAKES SO MUCH MORE SENSE

You voice this to Steve, scared because well there are just so many things to worry about. Is he gonna think you never enjoyed sex with him? Is he gonna day it’s his fault? Is he gonna say you’re being ridiculous? Is he gonna brush it off? Despite being with him for so long you’re still scared but you trust him... so you tell him

He just sort of looks at you after you finally get the words out. He says he supports you and doesn’t mention it again. So you ask him what he’s thinking and oh boy. “Well I don’t like the idea of my girlfriend saying she doesn’t want to have sex with me. That’s not pleasant. And it’s going to be hard for me because if you turn me on and I can’t do anything with you... but maybe you’ll find out one day whatever is blocking you from this will fade.” He smiles like he hasn’t just crushed your entire world

You excuse yourself and find a room on the seventh floor and just burst in and start sobbing

Full on hysterics, you scream when someone touches your shoulder: Malfoy

You wait for him to make fun of you. Or to snap. Or do something that’s just so like him to do while you’re vulnerable and crying and he just... “did you break up with Steve then?” It’s sort of teasing but not completely there’s some concern there too

Through hiccups and tears you confess your heart to the Slytherin because what else do you have to lose at this point

He sits beside you and starts to talk himself. There’s something that he’s fidgeting with in his hands. You think he has pretty colored skin and very slender fingers... you wonder if he plays the piano or burns easily in the sun

“When I was younger I never really was attracted to girls. Or boys for that matter. I thought I’d grow out of it or find “the one” and I’d finally feel attraction... but... it never really came.” His voice was soft.

You gape at him and wonder if he’s doing this to taunt you. He keeps twirling whatever’s in his hands

“I want the companionship,” you sniffle. “I like the vulnerability... I just don’t want the...”

Draco nodded. Like he understood. And you wondered if he did. He finally holds out what’s been twittering in his fingers: a pin. Four colors: black, grey, white, purple. Four stripes.

You have a good idea of what it is, but you’re not sure. You’re not sure about anything because you barely know what asexuallity is and that you might be it

“Despite popular belief,” Draco muses softly. “I do crave the companionship too. I’m just not too good at showing it... most people just want one thing...”

A watery laugh escapes your lips and you wipe away your tears. “I’m sorry for throwing this all at you,” you whisper, hugging your knees.

“Don’t apologize for feeling something. Or rather not feeling something,” a familiar smirk appears.

“I feel things just fine,” you laugh and shove his arm playfully. “I just...” he nods again.

“Take it,” he offers the pin. “You don’t have to wear it and show people, but you don’t have to forget that it’s who you are and how you feel”

You look at him because holy hell who is this and what have you done with Draco Malfoy. And he seems to pick up on that and laughs, standing, offering his hand. “I told you. I like the companionship... I’m just not good at showing it,”

You understand him a bit better. And you understand yourself a bit better. The pin is clutched tightly in your hands as you leave the room of requirement Draco explains its where he goes to think and feel safe and escape having to play sexually charged games in his common room and was very surprised you got in as well

You spend a few more days with Steve moping and depressed whenever you’re around him because you just feel so ashamed every night you look at the pin that Draco gave you and smile. “This is who I am,” you whisper to yourself

You break up with Steve the next day because he can never understand what you’re going through and the sudden change in your relationship boundaries have wounded his ego and he always makes you feel bad about it

You feel free for a while, smiling at Draco in the halls. And maybe he smiles a few times too. It’s like you’re both in your own secret club and no one else has any idea and it’s kinda fun

One night after a house win in Quidditch Steve has too much to drink and finds you in the library and is very animate about showing you that you can still enjoy—

Your scream gets caught in your throat and you’re terrified and Draco is just there he’s also avoiding the after party in his common room

Hell hath no fury like a pissed off Draco Malfoy

You crumple into Dracos arms sobbing as Pince has someone else take Steve to the hospital wing

Steve never comes back: Draco sent a letter to his father and Steve was expelled on the spot. His case eventually gets dropped and he’s off the hook but Draco blackmails Steve so hard

Hell hath no fury like a pissed off protective Draco Malfoy

You don’t feel safe anymore. You’re so scared of everything that Draco is really the only one who can calm you down. Not only are you scared to come out but you’re scared to be alone with any guy

Which means a lot of nights with Draco in the room of requirement. It’s a different sort of companionship now. There’s not anxiety... just vulnerability

You reach out and take Dracos hand one night... and he just intertwines his fingers with yours. His hands are warm despite the icy complexion and you smile to yourself

You two start dating. Well, companionship. To everyone else it’s dating though. Neither of you are ready to come out just yet.

Sometimes you get taunted by other girls because “you’re dating the most attractive guy at school and you don’t even snog him” and other comments and Draco constantly gets “so how far have you gotten?” or other sexual remarks about you and you’re both just frustrated

You snap one day and scream “can’t I just want to be in his company without having to shag him!? What is wrong with you people!?” I’m the middle of the Great Hall and everyone is staring at you

You sink down into your seat and wish you could disappear but your best friend beams at you and Draco wraps an arm around your shoulders

That night you sort of just rant to him and he listens “how can people just want to hook up? Like why would you want to have a one night stand? Shouldn’t we be worth a bit more than sex? It’s just so wrong!” You’re pouting and Draco finds it endearing

You go to his house over the summer and his mother raises an eyebrow at the sight of you with his son because she totally knows about Dracos sexuality who do you think gave him the pin but she’s happy to see that Draco found a companion she wants what’s best for her son and wants him to be happy

Which means she lets you two sleep in the same bed because she knows it means something different to you two. When Draco tells you that you’re safe to come out to his mother you about sob because you’re still so scared. He holds you

In fact, Draco’s learned that he loves your touch and comfort. They give him warmth and make him feel more human and less estranged. It’s taken some time, but you two are very affectionate, it’s just not sexual which is a total relief to you because you’ve been craving it

One night, you and Draco are in nothing but your underwear because it is hot and the summer hello and just holding each other, talking and vulnerable. Your hands explore his chest and stomach and his are tracing your soft curves with no expectations

You start crying because it’s all too much because it’s exactly what you’ve wanted. For someone to understand to your core what you need and Draco just does and it finally feels right inside

You two have almost no boundaries. You’re not really attracted to him physically and he’s not really into you like that so you’re free to walk around in just his shirt and he can wear nothing but boxers and it’s just normal

It’s also a journey of loving what you see in the mirror. Just because you’re not attracted to anyone else doesn’t mean you can’t think what’s in the mirror is beautiful. You’re your own standard of beauty.

Some nights you just explore boundaries with Draco. Kissing, cuddling, gentle touches. You want to know what makes him tick.

He loves neck kisses and you love collarbone kisses. You like his hands holding your thighs as you’re draped over him and he likes feeling your weight over him and your soft skin. Neither of you prefer snogging much. A kiss here and there but making out doesn’t appeal to either of you

You two also adore having a friend, a companion, a mate. You go to the movies or read books to another. He does play the piano and he plays for you. You reach him how to knit and sew and he teaches you how to waltz and color match

At school you two hold hands in the hall and share soft conversations and most nights end up in the room of requirement or his dorm sleeping together

You wear the pin he gave you on your robes next to your prefect badge and he gets another one and wears it and finally the rest of the school understands

You smile because you’ve found your companion and he’s found his and you don’t feel so lost or alone anymore

.

Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87@artemismohr18@whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda@bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog@jillanaholland@shookyungsoo@savingdraco@welcometomyworldwithoutrules@akari180@slytherin-emerald@chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey@theres-a-dog-outside-omg@queenfeatherwings@fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe@spicyshenanigans@darling-im-not-okay-i-promise@dietkiwi@katsukink@takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things@tmnt-queen@mccloudchloe@hxneybgb@justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena@moviesbooksandfandoms@howdycharlie@xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper@ninacotte@mccloudchloe@braelynn-j@jiggllyy @honeymarvel@go-whovian-universe@darcypottah@atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289@boredashaeck​ @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread @atomicwonderlandmentality @okaydraco@the–queen-of-hell@langdonzvoid @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing@tulippings @thestressedprincess@sunflowerxsadnessw@caps-wilsonn @fattycooter@angelotakunerd08@thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread​ @gweaslvy​ @okaydraco​ @strawberriesonsummer​ @ughjjloveme​ @honeymarvel​  @gaysludge​ @cleopatera​ @ray-of-sunrise​ @artist-bby​

[mar1garden]

going batty part 1

masterlist

warning: this will be salty. very salty. if you think it’s ooc let me know and i’ll do the best i can to fix it, but the characterization in this show is so shoddy already that there isn’t much i can do. alya salt, adrien salt, lila salt, bustier salt, class salt. this is also my first posted fic!! if u wanna be on the tag list let me know 💙🌹

The first impression Damien had of his new class was that they were loud. Even as he walked up the stairs, he could hear voices in the classroom. It seemed a debate was occurring, though he couldn’t quite make out the two sides. He reached the top of the stairs, but before he could even make a grab for the door handle, the room fell silent. Damien was about to thank whatever deity was watching out for him and silencing the roomful of screaming children he was about to walk into when he heard another voice from inside the room.

“Of course she’s in love with him,” an effeminate voice said matter-of-factly. “But he barely knows she exists. It’s tragic, really. She tells me about it every time she sleeps over- oops!” the voice continued. Damien didn’t know who was speaking, and he didn’t know who they were speaking about, but he knew from their cadence and their confidence in “accidentally” spilling secrets that he couldn’t trust them as far as he could throw them. Damien sighed deeply to think that he was joining a class of liars and idiots as he reluctantly opened the door to the classroom. Once more the class quieted- chaos had broken out once more after the liar mentioned her little tidbit, which he expected had been the goal.

“Ah! Our new student! M. Damocles told me to keep an eye out for you. Would you like to say a few words to the class?” a woman- presumably the teacher, though she did nothing to show it- asked. She smiled expectantly at him as he moved to stand in front of her desk, facing the class.

“I’m Damien. I’m 15 and I’m an exchange student from America. I do not wish to distract myself from my studies during my time here, so please do not try to make friends with me. I’m not interested,” Damien told the class sharply. He walked briskly to the only open seat in the room- back row, next to some girl who smiled gently at him before returning her gaze to the front of the class. Interesting, he mused. By her bright clothes, he had expected bubbliness. Perhaps a high-pitched greeting. A hug, maybe. This was a pleasant surprise, though it was the only one of its kind he had had all week.

On Monday, they had received video evidence of a super villain in Paris. Tim had suspected it was CGI, especially since Paris was visually completely fine when he hacked some security feeds, even though the video clearly showed the Eiffel Tower falling. Bruce had decided that they really ought to at least check before writing it off, and Damien had drawn the short straw.

On Tuesday, Bruce had told him his cover for being in Paris was that he was an exchange student. He wasn’t allowed to be Robin while he was there, as it may put his identity at risk. He wasn’t allowed to leave until he had confirmation that the thing was either a hoax or genuine, unless he was in actual danger.

On Wednesday he packed. He couldn’t take weapons with him, obviously, because airport security may be a joke but he was pretty sure they would catch an actual sword stuffed in his bag. That afternoon he had flown to Paris and gotten settled in.

And now it was Thursday. Damien had learned much about the class very quickly, mainly that it was composed of a liar and some idiots. He had learned his deskmate was quiet. He had learned that he was far enough ahead in the syllabus that he could afford to study people in class.

He hoped the rest of the week was calm. Even if it meant he had to stay longer, he would rather have time to get settled before suffering a villain attack- if the whole thing was real, anyways. He pulled his focus back to the task at hand- assessing the class and finding any useful allies or sources of information. He recognized the girl next to the liar as the Ladyblogger. This meant the Ladyblog was likely an unreliable resource, which he mentally jotted down. That was good to know.

Damien cast a sideways glance at the girl next to him. She was patiently listening to the teacher and obviously tuning out the other students. When Damien bothered to listen, he noticed them gossiping about her. So Marinette was her name, huh?

Every rumor he heard was traced instantly back to the liar, and with each word he noticed the girl next to him tense imperceptibly more. He mentally scoffed. It was clear that she wasn’t going to stand up for herself. How pathetic. She was preferable to the liar or any of the blind idiots, but certainly not by much. So lost in thought was he that he flinched when the bell rang. Where had his restraint gone?

Marinette turned to him once the bell had rung. In a voice clearly pitched down so others wouldn’t hear, she spoke for the first time that day: “You’re Damien, right? I’m Marinette, the class president.” He scoffed slightly. The whole class clearly hated her, and she refused to stand up for herself. How had this mess become class president? As if she hadn’t heard him, she continued: “If you need anything, let me know. Here’s your class schedule and syllabi, and here’s a map of school. If you’d like, I can give you a tour later and explain the multiple purposes of some of the classrooms.” She handed him a short pile of papers and waited, as if she expected a response. When she got none, she nodded and left, and somehow, that made Damien feel worse than he would have if she had scolded him on his lack of a ‘thank you.’

The rest of the day, he remained in the same classes as her. He sat next to her in a majority of them, as she was often the only person with no seat partner. She remained quiet and focused, and she continued to pointedly ignore the other students, though it seemed he was not among their ranks. When he asked any questions, she answered quickly, quietly, and to the best of her ability, which he appreciated. She may be useful yet, if her succinct answers to non-hero questions were any indication of her general temperament. As he thought this, the bell rang for lunch and the class began to pack up. Damien wasn’t sure if he should risk the caf or head off campus, but as he turned to ask Marinette, he noticed that she had frozen in place. Her bag was half packed and resting on the table as she looked in surprise at someone standing at the table.

The boy was blonde and green eyed. He had had the liar hanging off of him, which either meant they were working together or he was a bigger idiot than them all. He smiled condescendingly at Marinette and Damien, then he turned solely to Marinette. “Marinette, may I speak with you real quick? It’ll only take a minute,” the boy asked, though it was clear ‘no’ was not an option. At the girl’s small nod, he turned to Damien. “Do you mind if I steal her for a sec?” he asked. Damien raised an eyebrow.

“Seeing as she’s a human being and therefore not property, I don’t see how you could steal her, but be my guest.” The boy smiled that same smarmy smile at him, and Damien decided that too many unlikeable people disliked the sweet girl next to him. He didn’t want to be among their ranks, and while the girl could do with a bit more spine, she had been nothing but pleasant to him. As the boy maneuvered her away to speak, Damien moved a bit more quietly. It would be easy for his trained ears to overhear, and they should both underestimate him, so it would be simple to eavesdrop.

“Mari, you didn’t say anything to him, did you?” the blond asked, looking searchingly at the girl in question. She sighed in response.

“Is that what this is about? I promise, I didn’t tell him anything. I think he knows she’s lying, and if he asks, I won’t lie to him to protect her, but I haven’t told him anything and he hasn’t asked.” Marinette rolled her eyes at the boy. Damien couldn’t help but notice that her posture, while visibly scared when other students were around, was simply bored when only Blondie was there. The boy had sighed in relief at Marinette’s words, but had quickly tensed back up.

“Wait, if he asks if she’s lying, you’ll just... tell him? Just like that? Mari, you can’t do that! He doesn’t know us, he doesn’t need to know our secrets!” the blond protested. He assumed a superior expression and quickly looked at Marinette in as disappointed a way as he could manage. The aforementioned girl glared at him.

“Agreste, I’m not going to lie. I refuse to do so, especially to try and protect a girl who hates me. Damien is perfectly kind and has been nothing but cordial, I have no reason to deny him information that may affect his time here. I won’t make him listen to some liar thinking it’s the truth.” Marinette ended the conversation there, walking back to the desk quickly and packing her bag before leaving class. Damien took this in with an air of quiet amusedness, though he was touched that she defended him.

Maybe his time here wouldn’t be so impossible after all.

that’s where i’m ending the first part! if you’d like to be tagged in the next part let me know! have a wonderful weekend folks! ~💙🌹

[karajaynetoday]

forever and always | calum hood

I couldn’t find the original credit for this gif but possibly here? It’s a deactivated blog though if anyone has the proper credit please let me know!

I don’t know how or why, but I woke up this morning thinking about this concept and I had to get it written to make my peace with it, in a way. Shout out to @spicycal for reading through the draft for me, and sending love to anyone this resonates with. It’s a very emo Calum one-shot that includes pregnancy loss (if that’s not something you can read, feel free to give this one a miss), but I promise it has a happy ending. 

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy loss/stillbirth, and references to COVID-19 (the pandemic circumstances i.e. quarantine, not actually having the illness)

(This is a fem reader insert)

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Calum ducked his head down to meet your gaze, brown eyes swimming with concern.

You were sat together on the couch in Ashton’s living room, surrounded by a lighting set up, having a quiet moment while Andy and Ryan were setting up their cameras in front of you. 5SOS were preparing to release their next album, and to reflect on the past ten years’ of the band, they had decided to film a documentary alongside the album process. After much deliberation, KayKay, Sierra and Crystal had agreed to take part, because they were just as much a part of the band’s journey as the boys’ families were, and their support and influence on the music was obvious. For you, though, it was a little different. You and Calum had successfully hidden your relationship from the public eye for the last four years. It was some sort of miracle, honestly, especially given the last little while where you’d gotten careless and slipped up by holding hands and showing affection in public. If any fans or paps noticed, they never said anything, and it gave you and Calum a sense of relief that no one knew your name or true identity when you were spotted with him or the rest of the band family in public.

Relief, but you had to admit that it hurt a little too. You’d seen the hate and vitriol that the other guys’ partners had experienced, and you knew Calum was just trying to protect you from all of that, but every time someone made a joke about him being the only single one in interviews, or asked him what he looked for in a girl, or the fans ran away with relationship rumours whenever he was photographed within breathing distance of a potential love interest,  it made your chest feel tight. At the end of the day, though, Calum always came home to you, and that was what truly mattered.

To say that this was a big moment, publicly announcing your relationship with Calum, and revealing that you’d kept it hidden for years, was an understatement. But you knew it was important to both of you to finally share it with the world. Not just because you loved each other and wanted to show it, but because the events of the past year had broken and rebuilt you all over again. As individuals, as a couple, and even for the band as a whole. You knew that the hope you’d held, and the pain that tore you down, and the healing you’d been through came across in Calum’s contributions to the new album, so it felt right to sit down and use your own voice to convey your feelings about it all.

You broke out of your deep train of thought to nod in response to Calum’s question, and press a quick but reassuring kiss to his lips.

“I’m sure if you’re sure.” You whispered, as Calum threw his arm around your shoulders and squeezed to let you know he was in support of whatever you wanted to do.

“Okay guys, we’re ready if you’re all good to go?” Ryan spoke up from behind the camera, trying not to unsettle you two and the moment you were clearly having. A deep breath and a brief smile from you and Calum let Ryan know he could start recording, and Andy sat down out of frame and pulled his notebook of questions into his lap.

“So, shall we start from the beginning?”

Your heart swelled, as you began to remember.

--

Ashton had full on wingman-ed Calum when you first met them both at a bar downtown. He was dating KayKay at the time, so he’d made it his mission to find Cal a hot date, or a lover, or a lifelong companion (“Any of the above will do, as long as you’re not a shit person”, he’d told you as he tried to pitch Calum to you). The pitch had worked, and you’d joined them for a few drinks and rounds of pool, before exchanging numbers with Calum at the end of the night.

From there, it was coffee dates, and brunches, and then dinners and nights out on the town. Soon it became days or nights at each other’s houses, which became entire weekends, then it was trips away or secret visits to see Calum on tour, and before you knew it, you’d been dating for the better part of the last two years and Cal asked you to move in with him. He knew it was a sacrifice on your part, not only dating someone who was away for months at a time, let alone someone whose hand you couldn’t hold out in public for risk of being photographed, but you also knew that you and Calum loved each other more deeply than you’d ever loved before. You understood he’d be burned in the past with public or semi-public relationships, and seeing his band brothers go through them made him hesitant at best. By moving in together, you’d see each other more, and you’d also get to shower each other with the love and desire that was building more and more within your soul with every passing day.

--

“So that’s the story of how we met. Mate, honestly, I was head over heels from day one.” Calum laughed, kissing your forehead quickly.

“I’ve had the privilege of observing you two and your love for one another for a few years now, and I have to say it’s a beautiful thing. You just seem to know each other inside out, and I love that soulmate aspect of your relationship.” Andy mused, flashing you a warm smile.

“Now, in terms of influence on this upcoming album, I know the past 18 months have been a rollercoaster for us all, but you two especially have been through a lot. Do you feel comfortable talking us through that a little bit?” Andy was careful with his words, not wanting to upset you or make you uncomfortable.

You squeezed Calum’s knee, before swallowing thickly and thinking back to the time period Andy had mentioned.

--

When 2020 began, you held so much hope and excitement for the year ahead. Watching Calum and his brothers play the Firefight Australia concert was incredible, and you were so thrilled for them to be releasing their latest album that truly felt representative of the four individuals who had come together to craft it. But then the pandemic began, and you were ordered into quarantine. Each day felt heavier somehow, with more sad stories on the news, and more frustration building up amongst your loved ones. It broke your heart to see Calum and the boys not able to release the album in the way they’d originally hoped, but Cal himself was both an optimist and a realist, and constantly reiterated that it felt like the right time to release it anyway, because maybe it would bring a bit of joy and serenity to people that needed that in their lives amongst all the chaos.

You’d quickly fallen into the routine of home isolation, waking early to get your work hours done, so you could spend your afternoons with Calum and Duke by the pool, or hiking a nearby trail, or bingeing Netflix on the couch. It was strange to have so much time together, but it was also so warm and comforting that it didn’t take you long to get anxious at the idea of Calum ever leaving again for tour or promo. That was a while away, though, so you tried your best to make the most of the time you had, and take it one day at a time.

You couldn’t remember the first day you woke up feeling nauseous. Sometime in June, you supposed. A few days of vomiting and fatigue that made you feel like you’d been hit by a bus, and you had a telehealth appointment with your doctor to try and figure out what was going on. Given your symptoms, they’d asked you in for tests right away. A week or so later, you were back sitting in the doctor’s office awaiting the results, extra nervous because the COVID-19 restrictions meant that Calum couldn’t come in with you. You’d thought about FaceTiming him into the appointment, but there was something in the back of your mind telling you that you wanted to have a moment to yourself to process the news, whatever it was going to be.

When your doctor looked at you with a smile and told you that you were pregnant, all you could do was gape back at her in shock. It shouldn’t have come entirely as a surprise; you and Calum had spoken a few times about the vision you had for your future, and the uncertainty and restlessness that quarantine had given you made foregoing protection seem right, somehow (lovesick logic, or something like that). But it happening so quickly was unexpected. Your shock was soon replaced with tears of happiness, and you were already bursting at the seams to get home and tell Calum the news.

He was speechless at first, too, but then again Calum always was a man of few words. You’d kept it to yourselves for a little while, only discussing it in quiet whispers, or soft touches onto your non-existent bump, or sending links of cute baby things to one another via WhatsApp message. A few weeks later, you had your first scan, and this time Calum was allowed in the room. You could see his eyes light up when he heard the strong heartbeat on the monitor, and later he’d tell you how he immediately wanted to voicenote it on his phone to listen to while he was away on tour, or even mix it into a song.

Seeing that tiny blob on the screen and hearing the heartbeat honestly made your entire year, and from then on you couldn’t resist sharing your happiness with others. Video calls with yours and Calum’s parents, more happy tears and cheering from the soon-to-be first time grandparents.

The restrictions in California had eased a little, so you invited Ashton, Luke, Michael and their respective partners over for dinner one night. You’d prepared some cute greeting cards, one for each couple, thanking them for all of their support over the years with helping to protect your privacy with Calum, and slipped a copy of the baby scan with “see you in February” written on the back inside the card. Once everyone was settled onto the couches in the living room, waiting for dinner to be ready, you handed them out and sat down in Calum’s lap, taking a sip of your drink to try and hide the excitement on your face.

It was so amusing to observe the reactions that were representative of each couple. Michael and Crystal gasped and cheered, immediately pulling you and Calum into tight hugs. Ashton and KayKay were more reserved, but whispers of love and encouragement and happiness into your ears were so lovely and cherished. The tears in Sierra’s eyes, and the comfort of Luke’s squeeze of his arms around your waist said more than they could ever put into words.

The emotional celebrations soon turned into teasing jibes, and Ashton’s pitch for a new line of 5SOS baby merch. (“Come on guys, a baby-sized bucket hat? Tiny hoodies? Wildflower plush toys? A lullabies album? I’m telling you, there’s a whole WORLD of opportunity for us opening up right now!”), and you couldn’t help but feel both overjoyed and overwhelmed at how much this little baby was going to be surrounded with love and support for every day of their life.

The months carried on, and your once invisible baby bump grew and grew. You and Calum cleared out a spare room for the nursery, and got lost in furniture shopping and paint swatches and reading every parenting book you could get your hands on. There were doctors appointments, and birthing classes; lists of potential baby names on the fridge, and consulting your dog trainer on how best to introduce old man Duke to the idea of a new arrival.

As December approached, and you started getting into the festive spirit, Calum began returning to the studio as he and the guys toyed with some potential new directions for the next album. All of them had studios built into their homes, so they could meet and work together in relative safety, which was reassuring. You were standing over the kitchen sink one day, rinsing out the pan you’d used to make eggs for breakfast, when a searing pain in your abdomen had you groaning in discomfort and gripping onto the kitchen counter for dear life. The pain eased momentarily, and then came back stronger, and you managed to grab your phone from the counter and dial Calum’s number frantically as you gasped for breath.

The next few hours were a blur; Calum raced home to find you curled up in pain on the kitchen floor, Ashton and the paramedics were quick to follow him inside. They put you in an ambulance and took you straight to the hospital; you and Calum were gripping each other’s hand so tightly that your knuckles were white with stress.

The doctors determined you were in pre-term labour, and soon enough you were in a delivery room panting and pushing and crying out to Calum for comfort. It was all so terrifying and overwhelming but he was doing his best to ground you, brushing his fingers through your hair and holding your hand and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. When you finally delivered the baby, a hush fell over the room, and you could tell from the look on the faces of your doctor and nurses that something wasn’t right. 

The silence continued, and your heart broke when you realised that the baby hadn’t started to cry like you’d expected. The nurses had moved the infant over to another station, suctioning their airway and connecting them up to all manner of tubes and wires, but after a few moments your doctor told you the news. It was a baby girl, but her heartbeat wasn’t there. She’d come into the world and gone out again, just like that.

--

“I know a lot of people struggle to talk about stillbirths, and losing children, and it’s such a deeply personal thing so I get it. But it’s also grief, and loss, and emotions that you feel whenever you lose anyone you love. If there’s one thing I wish we could do more, as people in general, it’s discuss how we feel, and normalise having emotions, because it brings you closer and makes you feel less alone.” You spoke softly, blinking away the tears that had started to well in your eyes.

Andy nodded gently at you, before a quiet “Cal?” with an encouraging flick of his head.

Calum cleared his throat and glanced over at you before speaking. 

“I think that’s a huge part of why we wanted to be here today and talk about not only our relationship but losing Matilda in particular. It’s a sensitive topic, I know, especially for men, but holding back and bottling up your emotions isn’t good for anyone. Without her support in getting me to open up, or having the boys to listen to me cry and help me get some of my feelings out, in words and on this album, I don’t think I’d be in as good a place as I am now. It’s dark to think about, but important not to ignore, I think.”

“You’re so right, Cal. And Matilda is always going to be a part of our story, and we’re never going to forget how much we loved her and how much closer together she brought us,” You began, pausing briefly to squeeze Calum’s hand that had settled on your swollen stomach, “And when our little rainbow baby arrives in the next few weeks, I can’t wait to tell them about their sister, and how much she would’ve loved to meet them, but now she’s watching over them instead.”

“Exactly. We’re always going to have had Matilda, and then this little one, and however many others we decide to try and bring into the world. But it’s the love that builds you and the loss that breaks you that makes us who we are. Forever and always.” Calum’s voice was emotional, but also firm and calm, as he looked down at you and kissed you intently, his hand never leaving its spot on your bump, where your little rainbow baby was kickly softly at the sound of his voice.

“Forever and always.” You agreed, inhaling deeply and feeling a sense of deep peace and content wash over you.

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

Taglist: @suchalonelysunflower​ @blackbutterfliescal​ @redrattlers​ @loveroflrh​ @spicycal​ @notinthesameguey​ @metalandboybands​ @cheekysos​   @ashton-trash

[lenalawlipop]

December 31: Quiet

So... this is the final one! I'm posting three in a row today because I really just wanted to finish them xDD I hope you guys enjoy it! This happens in the same AU as that one other prompt I did with dog!Roach, but much further along.

Prompt list here ❄️

Read on AO3

Roach scratched at the front door as soon as she heard Jaskier’s keys jingling and heard him chuckle. The key turned, and he entered the flat. He ruffled her ears, and she whined, calling him to the bedroom. He followed.

“Geralt? Is Ciri still…?”

“Not asleep,” Geralt confirmed, with an amused huff. “I think Roach is more tired than us.”

“I think so too,” Jaskier laughed. “Let me take this all off and wash my hands.”

“Sure.”

Noooo nonono!

Roach whined again, and Jaskier laughed, stepping around her to reach the entrance again, hang his coat and leave his mask behind as well. He blew her a kiss, but ignored her pleas for a little longer still, washing his hands thoroughly.

“We can’t bring germs into the house, Roachie,” he explained to her for the umpteenth time. “Ciri is still very young and could catch something. We don’t want that, do we?”

He did, however, hurry towards the bedroom once he was finished, shedding his shirt in the way. Geralt looked at him, smiled.

“Take the jeans off too, no outside clothes in the bedroom,” he muttered, a tired instruction like the many others they had implemented since Ciri had come home.

Roach jumped onto the bed, whining when Jaskier put her back on the floor. He took her space instead. He’d put on a soft pair of trousers, and he was quick to scoop his daughter up, cuddle her closer. She laughed, tickled with the hair on his chest. Geralt sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“She’s been crying a lot today; I think she’s teething… But you know how much Roach hates it. She’s a bit desperate for affection.”

“And probably also for some exercise,” Jaskier added, softly. He leaned to the side to press a kiss on Geralt’s lips. “You should get some air as well before it’s too dark outside. I’ll put her to bed, alright? Take Roach on a walk?”

“Hmm, I should…”

“You’ve been cooped up all day lately, what with helping out with Pavetta and Duny’s funeral,” Jaskier added, even softer if possible. “Walk off some of the stress. I’ll fix dinner tonight.”

“Don’t worry… leftovers.”

“Right. Then I’ll have those ready to eat if you let me know when you’re on your way back.”

“Ciri might not go to sleep for a while.”

“I’ll sing to her. It’s been working so far, right?”

“Hmm.”

“We’ll make it work, Geralt.”

Roach put her paws on the bed again, but this time she wasn’t shoved off. Jaskier was busy looking at Geralt, who seemed to have burrowed his face into Jaskier’s neck. Roach whined, and they both looked at her. Geralt’s eyes were a little watery, but he didn’t smell of tears yet. He pet her ears.

“I think your other child is worried about you,” Jaskier joked. Geralt cracked a smile.

“She’s a good pup… She keeps an eye on Ciri all the time, don’t you Roachie?” he asked her. It lacked his usual warmth, but he sounded so tired lately that Roach didn’t mind. She nosed at his hand. “Let’s take you for a walk, then.”

Walk!

Jaskier’s voice was clear as she and Geralt left the room. He sang to the baby a lot, and it took Roach a few minutes to remember she was going after Geralt. He smiled at her when she joined him in the entrance.

“He has a sweet voice, doesn’t he?” he mused, his cheeks reddening slightly. “I suppose that’s how we got together, so…”

Roach remembered. Those days were quieter, but Geralt had started to hum along with songs when he’d found Jaskier’s music. Roach had come to him a few years before, and she’d never heard him sing before. He had a nice voice too, she thought, even though Geralt had always seemed rather sheepish about it. He had been serious, and taciturn, when Roach had first met him. He would take her on walks, and he would pet her and groom her, but it had taken him a while to start talking to her. They had gotten to know each other since then…

Geralt only talked to her like this when they were alone, though. It made her feel special, like he was telling her a secret, even though sometimes it was most certainly not secrets what he talked about. Like right now.

“I didn’t expect Jaskier to stick around,” he admitted. Roach had already heard him say this many times, so she continued walking ahead, listening with half an ear. “I wasn’t sure he’d say yes, either.”

Yet another familiar sentiment.

“Gods, Roach, you just don’t care, do you,” he laughed. “I’m getting married, you dork, and you don’t care.”

She barked at him. Of course she cared! But she was not nearly as surprised as Geralt seemed to be by this turn of events. Humans tended to give their mates shiny jewelry for their fingers, so frankly, it was grossly overdue that Geralt gave something to Jaskier.

"I think you'll get used to Ciri soon, too," he continued. "I got used to Jaskier's babbling eventually, didn't I? Well, now's your turn to suffer. Ciri isn't nearly as loud, at least not yet, so I don't know what you're complaining about."

The walk went on in silence for a few minutes after that.

Roach wasn’t really bothered by the small child. She was a little noisy, a little smelly, and slept very little. But she knew pups were like that too. She was rather more concerned about Geralt, if she was being honest.

Ever since he got this child, he'd been so quiet… almost like he was in the beginning. And it worried Roach, because Geralt had come such a long way… but now he was back to that, speaking very little, taking her on walks less, crying when he thought she and Jaskier were asleep. Roach didn't really know what had happened, but she'd gathered from Jaskier that someone had passed recently.

It worried her even more.

She wasn't getting any younger, and though she still had a good few years in her, she wasn't sure who was going to take care of her human when she…

"I'm getting married," Geralt repeated all of a sudden, startling her. "Fuck, I'm getting married. To Jaskier. I'm going to be Jaskier's husband."

He’d slowed down at some point, his usual strides much smaller than Roach was used to, and she returned to his side to nose at his hands with a whine. His fingers were trembling, but there was the hint of a smile in his face. He rubbed her ears.

“Do you even know what that means? I guess not, huh…”

Did it mean something? Mates were mates, weren’t they?

“In the good and the bad, in sickness and in health, from now until death do us part…” Geralt mused, and now Roach was starting to get really worried. “That’s what it means,” he explained. “Marriage. It’s… a promise. We already adopted Ciri, you and I. Now we’re getting Jaskier. Our little family grows, Roach. We have a family now. A family that should be Duny’s. He fought for his wife, they fought for their daughter, and now…”

For a moment they stood there, the winter wind cutting through their clothes and fur. Roach would have sat down, but the ground was covered in snow… A nearby voice was what finally got them out of their bubble. A lady with a poodle, asking if they were alright. Geralt looked up, and Roach was able to scent the tears in his eyes. He stared at the lady for a second, putting on a small smile for her. He hummed, somewhat affirmatively, and the lady went away, but Roach knew better. She got closer still, pressing against his legs like she used to do when she was a pup. He leaned down to pet her.

“Let’s keep walking or we’ll freeze our butts off… Jaskier would be so worried, too,” Geralt said, and he managed a huff of amusement at the end. “You know, one of these days, he’ll take your crown for number one worrier about me in this household, Your Majesty Roach The Mighty.”

Geralt hadn’t called her that in ages! She barked, wagging her tail, and he chuckled as they started walking again.

He’d given her an idea anyway. Jaskier! They were mated now, and married, whatever that meant. And they had a child! Jaskier would protect her human with her, and humans lived so much more than dogs… Geralt would be taken care of!

Roach waited patiently as Geralt wiped the snow and water off of her paws as they stepped into the apartment again, but she jumped at her first chance to go find Jaskier. He was still humming, more quietly now, in the living room. The baby wasn’t with him, but the noise machine that showed them whenever Ciri moved was by his side. He gasped when Roach put her paws on his lap, jumping on his seat. He took his earphones off, turning around. The computer had the funny pictures that meant he was composing.

“You said you’d tell me when you were on your way back,” Jaskier complained in a whisper. Geralt snorted.

“Forgot. Sorry. I’ll take care of dinner instead.”

“I’ll set the table in a minute, let me save this.”

“Easy.”

Routines, Roach supposed, weren’t as bad when they were already set. She’d need more time to get used to the Ciri routines, but this? This was simple enough. Dinner wasn’t usually quiet, but Jaskier seemed to sense there was something in Geralt’s mind and didn’t pry. He sneaked Roach some of his dinner though, to keep her quiet as well. She obliged. Geralt only noticed halfway through the meal, and frowned.

“Jas?”

“Geralt?”

“You’re quiet.”

“I’ve been speaking all day,” he pointed out mildly, amused. “I thought you liked it when I’m quiet.”

“I do,” Geralt rolled his eyes. “I just like it more when I make you quiet. Like this, it’s just strange.”

This made Jaskier laugh, and he extended a hand to lace their fingers together above the table.

“You’ve taken their deaths so…”

“Hm?”

“You’re so quiet, too, all the time,” he sighed. “It’s hard to say if you need help sometimes. I know you struggle with asking, but something like a death, so close, too… You’re carrying a lot on your shoulders, love.”

Oh, yes, this was good! Talking! Geralt always needed some prompting to talk. Well done, Jaskier! Roach wagged her tail in delight and made her escape out of the kitchen before Geralt could answer, using their distraction.

She’d been right about Jaskier, it seemed.

Her family would be in good hands.

[reversecreek]

lily for magda (thinking about figs feeling evil), tulip for cricket, marigold for ziggy, chrysanthemum for bradley, belladonna for nyla

lily :   how does your muse view their mother ?  

magda doesn’t know a lot abt her mum. she knows vague snippets n details bt they’re all very elusive. it’s kind of a tricky subject where her mum’s concerned bc when she was younger she’d come up w all these assumptions abt how her mum was n who she’d be if she were with her but the rational part of magda was like..... u don’t know any of this. ur literally making things up. it’s kind of hard for a kid to have that vital person missing from their life n to resist the urge to fill in the blanks with their own projections so the space feels less empty. it’s like having a tooth missing n ur tongue always going back to poke at the spot in ur gum. there’s a constant reminder of loss in that. magda knows her mum liked to sing bc her dad said once she’d always sing to her belly when she was pregnant. this is a lot of the reason why magda has always cared so much abt music bc she took this fact in her fist n grasped it tight n never let go n in a way grew parts of herself around it. it’s like............. i feel like her mum dying in childbirth gave her lots of issues when it comes to her identity n like. who she is n who she wants to be.......... bc of magda’s issues w her dad i feel like she got into this habit growing up of rly putting who her mum could have been on a pedestal n basing everything around that.... she’d be like I’m More Like Her (a belief which was only accelerated bc her dad would drunkenly say she looked so much like her) n cling onto that so she liked herself more bc the other option was her dad who she loves but he’s also an incredibly flawed person n they hv a complicated relationship...... i think as she’s gotten older she’s realised her mum cld very well have been that way too n putting people on pedestals isn’t the way to go about things but. idk. as a kid she was kind of obsessed w this idea of her n this idea that her mum being gone was the beginning n end of everything wrong in her life. for the most part now magda accepts she never knew her n sometimes even feels stupid for grieving her at all bc she never knew her to grieve in the first place but. there’s a tiny part of magda tht still hangs on to the comfort of what she could have had n it’s obvious by the fact she still keeps a photograph of her folded up in her pillow. she loves the mum she made up in her head n she wishes she got to meet her. there’s this sense tht maybe then she wouldn’t feel like this culmination of missing parts more than a person if she’d had that in her life. sighs n lks away holding my dyed black emo bang.....

tulip :   how does your muse view people in general ?  

cricket is like. the strangest little anomaly of a person FGHKSFGHSFKGH bc like. u would rly think that after everything he’s been thru he would just have this absolutely jaded view of people and life in general and i wouldn’t even......... blame him for it if he did like. i’d understand completely bc he’s experienced A Lot of bad stuff. n yet somehow he just.... idk. i think i wrote in a reply once this comparison of cricket n a cockroach in the sense that they have this incredibly reinforced exoskeleton n even if they’re stomped flat they can keep living n bounce back from it n that’s very him but it’s more specifically the hope inside him. he has this little candle lit that good things can still happen midst all of the terrible things n i genuinely can’t see it snuffing out at any point even tho sometimes he might want it to. sometimes i think he even gets into these frames of mind where it jst infuriates the fk out of him bc in his head he’s like why do u even think good shit can happen when u have sm overwhelming evidence to the contrary but then he’s also like. look u can dwell on the bad or u can notice the way the light falls thru the leaves in the trees and u can think to urself inside ur head as u listen to someone u love talking abt something that makes them happy ‘hey this feeling is nice n there’s a dozen others like it’. idk. against all odds he’s an optimist. he has tinnitus in his left ear n sometimes he pretends the ringing is angels trying to talk to him. he likes to search for the silver linings in things to make them bearable n that’s how he gets by. obviously he knows there’s evil in the world n that a lot of people can be shit bc he has firsthand experience w that but he also believes there are people to serve as the antithesis to that n he wants to focus on them bc like. why give bad stuff the time of day. not necessarily always a positive coping mechanism (if u bottle up bad feelings n thoughts they leak thru one way or another aka his overwhelming anxiety) but like.... i think there’s a lot of bravery in that n i respect him for it i won’t lie. he cld have become very bitter bt instead he’s like that quote that’s like 'the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it'. suddenly slaps his little anxious rump (supportive) (affectionate)

marigold :   is your muse prone to jealousy ?  how might they handle envious feelings ?  

it’s hard to say w ziggy............... i feel like he doesn’t want to think he’s prone to jealousy bc he’s like i’m literally a god wdym i simply wld never give a fk bc i know i’m above all else................. but like. do u actually believe that ziggy. do u. FKGJHKSJGHFGSHFGKSHGKFHG. he’s good at convincing himself at least........... has me fooled too most of the time. bt. thinks abt this.............. i feel like he doesn’t tend to get jealous over ppl he hooks up w a lot of the time bt there’s definitely a few select ppl he might.......... n then he doesn’t rly know what that feeling is bc he’s so unused to feeling it so he’s like wtf why am i so fking pissed off over the thought of this person fking that person? like literally doesn’t even. connect the dots n make the logical conclusion bc it jst seems so bizarre n nonsensical to him. rly is awful at working out his own feelings like. he cld just suddenly explode one day n have to smash a bunch of shit in a junkyard n after his chest is heaving n he has all this broken stuff around him n he’s just like yo wtf was that man forreal lmfaoooooooooo..... like he just doesn’t even get how his own emotions work it’s tragic n it’s men for u. w anxious feelings he represses them a lot he doesn’t rly understand what they r or know how to recognise them........... i honestly feel like he has a lot of anxiety surrounding his mum esp w her dating n like some of the guys they’ve both had to deal w that she’s dated in the past.......... i doubt he processes that healthily or expresses it healthily either..... probably contributes to the tensions between him n his mum they hv a lot of underlying issues that come out in the form of bickering n petty disagreements...... probably a huge contributor to him acting out so terribly in high skl was just all this pent up worried energy with no means of making sense of itself or like. place to go. like shaking a coke bottle over n over n finally having to crack the lid n let it fizz on something. i also think he probably swallowed a lot of jealousy growing up whenever other kids had gd relationships w their fathers or parents in general probably ws kind of like lmfaooooo yo why don’t mine love me like that. in his head...... so ya. i think he copes w anxious feelings by acting out n also fucking if we’re being honest......... it helps him let off steam <3 king of clapping cheeks ig....

chrysanthemum :   how does your muse express romantic love ?  how do they feel about love as a concept ?  

bradley is kind of hard to read romantically like from an outside perspective but slides on my thin rimmed spectacles n picks up my scalpel to delve right in to the nitty gritty of her brain... omg... that sounded... kind of scary actually but. it’s ok. basically settles in. bradley struggles to verbalise her feelings in this regard but also in a general sense honestly.... like she’s spent a lifetime having any vulnerable or negative feeling shut down....... her dad’s the type of personality where it’s like... u can’t win. even tho he’s narcissistic n thinks he’s a god if u compliment him or express affection he’ll act pleased but there’ll also be this register in his eyes where he thinks less of u for it. so this rly had a domino effect in bradley’s emotional expression in all grounds of life...... romance is probably the most frivolous concept to tony so bradley definitely internalised some of these views n wld feel stupid for ever taking anything seriously in that regard or rly investing herself..... she also just. idk. love has only ever left bite marks in bradley’s world so she’d kind of like ‘why wld i ever expose my tender spots n open myself up to someone just so they can sink their teeth in’. i will say tho that like. despite that she can in rare instances develop those feelings n it’s always like..... quite a struggle for her when she does. she doesn’t rly understand it or how to deal w it. she finds talking about it hard n she feels childish or weak in the eyes of whoever knows how she’s feeling. it takes a long time n a lot of work to earn it bt bradley in love is like. ur the only person on the planet who knows how gentle she can b. she’d literally like. touch the face of this one guy i wrote her being in love w when he was sad so gently it was shocking it ws like a love tht deep unlocked a whole other part of her she didn’t know existed. sex is a big part of her love expression jst like. a lot of it. so much. JHGSFKHGSFGKHFKGSHG let’s get it.......... she’s a ride or die n doesn’t do anything in halves. she has a nasty habit of pushing good things away n also wld probably do this to protect the other person bc her world is a never ending shit show with her father’s presence in every room even when he isn’t physically there. she wldn’t wna subject someone she loved to the danger of that bc she hates it enough herself so. idk. smiles w hand on hip. love isn’t something bradley thinks is on the menu fr her bc she’s only ever known it to be hard or mean n why bother trying when that’s the case. it feels like there’s always small print attached tht will hurt her in the end n nothing is free or genuine. very doomed outlook on love in general tbh.

belladonna :   how does your muse respond to silence ?   do they take comfort in soundlessness ,   or seek to fill the void with noise ?  

nyla honestly doesn’t mind silence at all........ they always wake up rly early in the morning no matter what time they went to bed. it’s like someone programmed an oven timer into their brain n often when they wake up at 6am or something they’ll go on walks around irving tottering in their own little world which is quite a quiet experience in itself when the rest of the world’s asleep........... always off on impromptu adventures they came up w on the spot.......... sometimes they get lost in their own train of thought too so they just randomly fall silent bc they’re having a whole conversation w themselves inside their head or like. writing a whole children’s story abt an iguana in a trench coat floating in a hot air balloon smoking a little vintage pipe all the way to peru. honestly for every 1 thing nyla says there’s about 4987295749572592745 things they don’t say tht are x100 times stranger n more nonsensical they sort of let it all drift thru their head like an open sieve for the most part. having said tht i think in order to sleep at night they probably need some sort of white noise or smthn................. it’s handy living in a beach house bc they just leave the window open to let the ocean gush bt sometimes if they’ve snuck into like. mido’s bed fr the night or someone’s bed idk the sound of them breathing works too................. they used to always sleep w bob ross playing on loop n that was rly comforting to them esp bc he reminds them a lot of their dad w his calming voice n energy.............. sometimes they’d have taken smthn n they’d literally hallucinate it as their dad instead of bob ross n this happened so many times in a row fr a period of time tht when they finally watched it sober they were like wtf since when did they recast my dad in this show...... KJHFGSHFGKSHFKGH but also. frowns... bit sad considering. 

[wonderofasunrise]

About a Long Night

A/N: Naturally, I’ve been writing some ER fics on my own, and I managed to actually finish one yesterday. After a few tweaks here and there, I thought I’d post it here because...why not?

Inspired by @bwayfan25​, whose brilliant ER fics on AO3 made me real hot for Susan/Kerry and prompted me to start writing fanfiction again. Among other things, it’s a great exercise and wonderful way to relax.

Hope you enjoy, and fingers crossed I can share some more writing stuff here in the future. Reviews/ideas are welcome!

Disclaimer: These characters are, sadly, not mine. But a girl can dream, can’t she?

Featuring an excerpt from the song “Lost” by Dermot Kennedy, who I’ve been listening to a lot lately.

-----

For fear of moments stolen I don’t wanna say goodnight But I’ll still see you in the morning Still know your heart and still know both your eyes

***

“How long have you been awake?”

Kerry starts to rub her eyes, unable to contain her mild annoyance upon realising that the person whom she shares her bed with has been watching her sleep. Their room is dark with only a faint ray of light barely piercing through the window, but even without her glasses on she can easily recognise the pair of big green eyes staring at her, along with the smile that accompanies them.

“Long enough,” Susan smirks.

She is lying on her side, her head propped up on one of her hands—her favourite position every time she gets a chance to watch Kerry in slumber. Susan makes it no secret to Kerry that she finds the sight of her lover sleeping comforting, to which Kerry, in her typical defensive way, first responded by accusing Susan of wanting to see her at the most vulnerable.

Over time, however, Kerry has gotten used to it, to the point that there is nothing she looks forward to more than seeing Susan’s bright eyes and smile first thing in the morning—when their schedules allow them to spend the morning together, that is.

“You’re on at seven in the morning, Dr Lewis. Don’t push your luck,” Kerry tries (and fails) to emulate her Chief of Emergency Medicine voice, which comes as no surprise seeing that she has one of her eyes closed and her body relaxed against the comfort of her queen-size bed. Susan confirms it by sticking her tongue out in response.

“I’m not Dr Lewis,” she says in a mocking tone. “And neither are you Dr Weaver. We’re not in the ER, we’re home, and we’re just...us. Is my irresistible charm not enough to remind you?”

“Susan,” Kerry groans, her annoyance growing ever so slightly by the second. “You and I both know we need all the rest we can take. I had a long day, which I’m sure you’ve heard about, and chances are you’ll have one yourself in a few hours. Come on.”

But Susan is undeterred, and instead she gently pulls Kerry into an embrace and lets her head rest against her pillow, moving closer to ensure that their heads meet. Kerry can now feel Susan breathing against her skin, Susan’s hand wrapped around her body with only the fabric of her pajama top between their skins. Kerry half-expects Susan to kiss her neck and cause her to blush in the process, but instead Susan just rests her head against Kerry’s shoulder while inhaling the familiar scent of the latter before letting out a sigh.

“Do you know why I like watching you sleep very much?” Susan murmurs, her tone suddenly serious. “And it’s not because I like to prey on you when you’re vulnerable, although you gotta admit that would be pretty hot.”

“Because you get off on getting on my nerves,” Kerry states matter-of-factly. Both of her eyes are now closed, as if it somehow would convince Susan that they really should be sleeping instead of talking, but Kerry knows better and mentally prepares herself for a witty response.

“I’d rather get off on your other things, thank you very much. But seriously,” Susan retorts, “do you have any idea how different you look when you sleep? How...peaceful and relaxed you are? I swear sometimes I see you smirk in your sleep, and we both know that’s not something anyone would expect to see from you in public.”

“I’m not sure I have any idea as to how I look in my sleep, and I don’t think I’d want to know,” Kerry deadpans.

“You’re—you’re just you,” Susan happily ignores the remark. “You’re not an ER doctor, you’re not the Chief of Emergency Medicine, you’re just human—which I’m sure you’re aware that some people find debatable.”

Kerry is about to challenge that, but at this point she is just too tired and there is no way she can shut Susan up anyway, so she might as well let her be. All the while, Kerry lets her hand rest on top of Susan’s, her fingernails giving it a gentle scratch.

“I get worried sometimes, you know. That you don’t loosen up enough, that you’re content with people hating you and talking shit about you behind your back, because you deserve better than that. I think the world can do with knowing that you do have a heart, and not just in front of patients,” Susan muses, feeling Kerry squeezing her hand tighter now with each word.

“But then I feel lucky too, knowing your gentle side is reserved to those who deserve it. And you trust me enough to be one of those people. Heck, I’m the only person who gets to see you in pajamas and how cute you are when you’re cranky before having a cup of coffee in the morning.”

No longer feeling the urge to sleep, Kerry’s eyes are now wide open, staring at Susan’s as the latter shows no sign of ceasing her chatter. In turn, Susan, satisfied that she now has Kerry’s full attention, brings Kerry’s hand close to her face and places a soft kiss on it.

“When I—when we had our first date,” Susan continues, her smile growing even more at the word, “I remember you were getting tipsy after only one glass of wine, and you laughed so hard at something I said. I don’t even think it was that funny, but you laughed anyway and I just sat there, amazed. I never saw you laugh like that before. Granted, you had alcohol in your system, but the fact that you didn’t even try to conceal it said it all.”

Kerry chuckles as she recalls their first (proper) date, in which she inadvertently revealed to Susan that she was a lightweight, and she was surprised that she did not make any effort to conceal that. She was drinking and doing silly things as a result, but not once did she feel embarrassed. If anything, she was relieved that she could let herself loose up in front of someone she trusted completely, and she was beyond grateful that that someone was Susan.

There were no concerns about the possibility of being recognised by someone, nor were there misgivings about going public with their relationship—which Kerry normally has, ever since she started coming to terms with her sexuality. There were just the two of them, and the realisation that their feelings were manifesting into something more.

“It’s moments like that, and when you’re asleep that always remind me how lucky I am to see the real you. Sometimes I feel like keeping myself awake—even after pulling a double—simply because I don’t want to miss these moments when you’re just yourself. Because I want to always remember...how fortunate I am to be the one seeing you like this.” Susan can barely contain herself now, tears flowing down her face freely. She has to let it all out now, having expressed how privileged she feels to be with Kerry, to be the only one who witnesses her affectionate and loving side on a daily basis. To be the object of the said affection.

“Susan—baby, you’re crying,” Kerry raises her hand to wipe the tears away while sporting a concerned look. Susan, as if trying to tell Kerry to stop being concerned for nothing, laughs between her tears instead.

“I’m happy,” Susan takes a deep breath. “I—I never thought I’d say this, least of all when we first met, but I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time, and it’s all because of you.”

In many ways, as Kerry has learned, Susan is a fairly straightforward individual who only says what she means and means what she says, and coming from her those words feel like music to Kerry’s ears.

Unable to respond, having been rendered speechless at Susan’s sincerity and the way she expresses her feelings so candidly, Kerry simply kisses her on the lips, which Susan happily (and still tearfully) reciprocates.

“Me too,” Kerry says in a low tone that almost sounds like a whisper. “I’m the happiest I’ve been in years. With you.”

For a few minutes the two women stay silent—save for the soft sounds of Kerry’s breathing and Susan’s occasional sobs—as they lie still in bed, engulfed by the warmth of each other’s embrace. Time must have stopped for both of them, as for a time it feels like the stillness and warmth will never fade. As strange as this might sound, this is how Kerry always feels whenever she is with Susan: that the world around them stops as if conspiring to let the two be without anything in the way. There is no work, no hospital, nothing except Susan in front of her with her arms around her smaller body, and she knows Susan feels that way too.

“You know what will make me even happier?” Kerry smirks, and there is no mistaking the hint of mischief in her voice. “If you’ll get some rest, because God knows we really need it. And you know you don’t need to worry about missing any moment—I’m off tomorrow morning, and I’ll be right here when you wake up. First thing you see.”

Susan chuckles, pulling Kerry tighter into her embrace. She feels silly for admitting that she is worried about missing her favourite moments with Kerry, but she figures she can indulge herself in silliness once in a while. She is, after all, a woman in love.

“I love you,” Susan mumbles, her lips caressing Kerry’s shoulder blade. She has said this numerous times, and each time she knows that she always means it, and that it never gets lost on Kerry.

“I love you too,” Kerry kisses the top of Susan’s head and smiles at the sensation of Susan’s hair tickling her face. Similarly, each time she says the words she always ensures her sincerity comes across, which Susan never doubts.

Soon enough, the two fall asleep with their arms wrapped around each other, and again it feels almost as if everything around them stopped. There are just the two of them, sleeping peacefully without any care to anything or anyone else, and they know it is what they deserve.

All worries fading slowly, serenity begins to envelop Susan with the knowledge that she will see and hold Kerry first thing in the morning, all in a way that only Susan is privileged to witness, and that is enough for her to take on the world.

[peachy-beomie]

Holding You In My Heart (Until I Can Hold You In My Arms) <KUNTEN>

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Kunten (Qian Kun x Ten Lee)

Word Count: 1,643

Warnings: None!

Synopsis: COVID AU in which Kun sets up a bunch of cute zoom dates for him and his boyfriend.

A/N: I got bored and I really want to start working on my masterlist so I decided to post this :D

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29410125

From: qiankunprod@gmail.com

To: chittaphonleechaiyapornkul@yahoo.com

Join Zoom Meeting

{zoom link}

I stare quizzically at the email that pops up on my screen, interrupting my FRIENDS marathon. The message comes from none other than my boyfriend Kun, who’s been spending all of quarantine so far looking for ways for us to go on dates.

When COVID hit, Kun and I were forced to confine ourselves in our respective apartments, limiting contact. It hasn’t been too hard thus far, we call and text everyday without fail. Simple good mornings and silly pictures of my cat sufficed for the first month or so. But as the quarantine dragged on, I began missing Kun’s face more and more. We hadn’t been on a proper date in god knows how long, and it was starting to impact my mental health.

Curiosity consumes me as I click the link, awaiting whatever dorky plot Kun had conjured up. Within seconds his lopsided grin filled my screen and drew a small smile from my lips.

“Hi Sunshine!” He greets cheerfully, the familiar pet name bringing warmth to my cheeks.

“Heya baby, what’s this about?”

“Nothing, just missed you.” Kun’s tone has a hint of mischief that doesn’t go unnoticed by me. But playing along with Kun is way more fun than interrogating him.

“Mmm not as much as I missed you. You sure there’s no special reason for this?” I can see Kun’s eyes sparkling despite the low quality graphics.

“Weeeeellllllll I suppose I did want to ask if you’d want to go on a date?”

“A date? How would we do that?”

“Like this!” Kun gestures eagerly at the screen. “Through zoom! I found all kinds of fun things we can do.”

“And when would we do this?”

“I mean I’m free now…” Kun suggests, eliciting a giggle from me. Sometimes Kun’s cuteness is unbelievable.

“That works for me. What’d you have in mind baby?” Kun’s eyes sparkle mischievously.

“Wanna get your ass whooped at Mario Kart?”

“In your d r e a m s Qian.”

⏳

After that initial date, zoom dates with Kun became a frequent occurance. Kun wasn’t kidding when he said he had a lot of ideas. He set up so many dates ranging from movie nights (“You know he comes back in the next movie right?” “TOM HOLLAND IS TOO HOT TO DIE KUN.”) to a talent show consisting mostly of magic and Louis ignoring my attempts to make him do tricks. I began to look forward to each and every one of the meetings. Especially if it’s my turn to plan the date (“It’s more fun playing Just Dance against you cause you’re uncoordinated and I always win.” “Shut up.”). Dates with Kun made quarantine far more tolerable, though I still missed cuddling with Kun. The teddy bear he sent me as a replacement was a kind gesture though.

I hold it close as I watch Kun struggle to repeat the steps I taught him. A small chuckle escapes my lips, and Kun immediately turns to me with a pout.

“Don’t laugh, I think I’m doing alright.”

“Oh yeah at this pace you’ll be in level 2 hiphop in no time,” I joke, only laughing harder at the huff Kun lets out. “I wasn’t laughing at you darling, just thinking about how much I love you.” The older boy looks slightly stunned by my confession but he’s beaming from ear to ear within seconds.

“I love you too Sunshine.”

***

“It’s way too salty.”

“I told you the recipe didn’t call for a cup of salt but you wouldn’t listen!!!” I giggle at my exasperated boyfriend before putting the failed noodle dish in the sink.

“Maybe I should hire a better teacher.”

“Good luck finding someone else who’ll tolerate your bullshit like I do,” We both chuckle at that. “Are you available for another date Friday night?”

I pretend to think it over before shrugging, “I suppose I can fit you into my schedule.” Kun glares cutely at me through the screen. “What do you have planned?”

“It’s a surprise.” Kun wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis.

“Sounds mysterious.”

“Well if I recall correctly you love suspense,” Kun muses, “You in?”

“Of course.”

Kun tries to keep up his mysterious demeanor, but the way he visibly lights up at my confirmation is impossible to miss.

“Then I’ll see you in 3 days sunshine.” And with a final wink, he ends the meeting.

Cheeky fucker.

⏳

Finding the patience to wait for Kun’s surprise proved quite challenging. I couldn’t help but mull over what on earth the older man had planned. The existence of the mystery lifted my previously sour mood, but I couldn’t for the life of me solve for x while Kun’s gleeful words raced through my head.

After nearly an hour of staring at the same math question, I decide planning my outfit would be a better use of my time. Considering I have no idea what Kun is planning, I try to pick an outfit that’s casual but also pretty. I didn’t want to overdo it (it’s only a zoom date after all) but I also wanted Kun to know I tried. I tear my closet apart for about 20 minutes before settling on my favorite white tee and jeans. I also opt to do a little makeup, knowing Kun would appreciate it. Showering, makeup, and hair take up the rest of my time and before I know it, it’s time for our zoom date.

It appears I wasn’t the only one looking forward to the date because even though I logged on a whole 5 minutes early, Kun was already waiting to admit me.

“Someone’s excited.” I tease, proud of the light pink that dusts kun’s cheeks

“I’m the host, what’s your excuse?” He chuckles lightly. “You look gorgeous Sunshine.”

“Not so bad yourself,” my teasing tone barely disguises the obvious want in my voice. Cause Kun. Looks. Adorable. It’s not that he’s dressed up, not at all actually. He’s dressed somewhat similarly to me, drowning in a plain collared long sleeve. The sleeves are long enough to cover his hands, giving him sweater paws that make him appear not only soft, but tiny. His chocolate brown hair is mussed up, only adding to the overall image. To top it all off, he seems to be wearing a little bit of lip balm. I have never wanted to kiss someone so bad in my entire life.

“You frozen there lovebug?” Kun’s amused comment breaks me out of my stupor.

“Nope, just enjoying the view,” I wink nonchalantly once again relishing in the blush rising up Kun’s neck. “So what’s your plan?”

“You should be finding out in about…” He checks his watch dramatically, “5 minutes.” I could only giggle in response as I watched my boyfriend, eyes gleaming with mischief. As I may have mentioned previously: Kun is a dork. He enjoys setting up dates a lot (maybe a bit too much). He likes to come up with weird creative ideas for us to try. It’s one of the things I love most about him. And the way his gaze is flitting every which way and his legs are bouncing all over the place is a clear sign that he’s extremely proud of whatever he’s planned.

A few minutes of mindless chitchat later, I hear the doorbell ring. I give Kun a knowing look as he pretends not to know what’s going on. I open the door to see two boxes of take out from my favorite restaurant. I turn to Kun on the screen.

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, but I did sunshine.”

As I open the delicious smelling box I see that he’d gotten my favorite dish as well. He’d remembered every detail of it. A few tears escape my eyes against my will. Kun seems confused and concerned by my reaction, his beautiful features melting into a frown.

“Did I get something wrong? I swear I checked like 8 times to make sure I just--”

“No Kun it’s perfect,” I smile wetly. “You got everything right baby, I’m just really lucky to have you.” Kun nods understandingly grinning to reveal his dimple, and all of a sudden I’m hit with a wave of sadness and longing. I want nothing more than to be there with Kun, to caress his cheeks and bury my head in his chest and kiss the freckle under his brow that I love so much. I’m hit all at once with the realization that I miss being with Kun, and suddenly the tears are streaming down my cheeks. Kun stays silent, patient as always and it only makes me want to cry more.

“I miss you so fucking much,” I whisper between sobs. My vision is far too blurry to see how Kun is reacting to my outburst. “I hate this stupid quarantine, and the stupid virus, and stupid zoom. I just w-want to hug you so bad kunkun.” My voice breaks at the end of my sobs.

“Aw baby, I know. Any time we do these dates I can’t help but miss everything about you. You mean so much to me and not being able to see you has been torture. But don’t worry too much Sunshine. This is not permanent. I’m confident we’ll be able to see each other again.” Kun’s eyes are practically pouring out affection and genuineness.

“I’m sorry for ruining the date.”

“If you don’t hush right now I’m going to find a way to Zoom slap you,” Kun teased. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for and you haven’t ruined anything. We can just eat and watch a movie together yeah?”

There on my couch, as I lost count of the hours going by with Kun’s voice in my ears: I realized that despite the unideal situation, we’d be okay.

KUNTEN PIC OF THE DAY: