#also. left handed soul my beloved <3

[randomtextxx]

i had a vision

he's kicking his legs btw. (in case it wasn't obvious)

[sungbeam]

nonidol!jung sungchan x f!reader

at some point beneath the glittering summer sun and along evening tides, you and sungchan tripped over the line drawn in the sand.

▷ genre, warnings. brother's best friend!au, friends-ish 2 lovers, family vacay + sungchan lol, swearing, kissing, fluff, humor, sungchan does go shirtless (it's a beach), mentions of food, mentions of alcohol; lee jeno, sohee, and anton r ur brothers! (so u have the lee last name but u "look more like ur mom"); barely proofread, also im sorry if this is boring my head has not been in the game for Months

▷ word count. 10.0k

DISCLAIMER: i DO NOT actively write for or stan riize; this is literally just a birthday present T-T so if dynamics/personalities aren't right, i literally don't know these guys 💀

a/n: happiest birthday to my beloved soulmate and wife @justalildumpling :')) i hope u like it <3

OFTEN when you came back home from work, your joints and muscles ached to the point you could barely stand, your hair felt gross on your head, and your eyes stung from dehydration and sleep deprivation. That was the toll of working closing shift at the restaurant you worked at, and had been working at, for the past several years. 

It wasn't out of the ordinary to see the lights in the house still warm and bright when you got home either. Your family was a handful of night owls, not discounting yourself. They had witnessed you in this particular rat-nest dump of a state time and time again, which was why you didn't worry about looking like Death Incarnate. 

“Hey.”

Your soul left your body. 

Sitting on your living room couch was not a family member. Though, he might as well have been a part of it from how much you had been seeing him lately. Jung Sungchan was your older brother Jeno's best friend, but Sungchan was in your year rather than Jeno's. The two met via the high school soccer team and had been good friends since. 

Years later, he was sitting on the living room couch, nearing one in the morning, his hair damp from a recent shower, T-shirt sleeves rolled up his shoulders, and his phone paused from the game he was playing. Your brain was too tired to even register the amount of muscle packed onto his arms (what the fuck—). 

“Sorry, did I scare you?” He chuckled sheepishly, reaching up to ruffle his dark hair, grown out slightly. 

“What are you doing here?” You blurted instead. Exhaustion meant that conventional politeness was completely defenestrated. It was one in the morning on a summer night… usually your older brother was out clubbing or drinking (not that you were any different, but you worked quite a bit more nights lately). 

Sungchan's eyes danced up and down your form. “Jeno and I decided we're gonna pull an all-nighter for the road trip in—” He glanced over at his phone, “—seven hours and just knock out in the car. How was work?”

Road trip? Car ride? If you could just make it to the shower… “It was fine. Tiring,” you said with a sigh. You trudged over to the far side of the room, behind Sungchan, into the kitchen. You grabbed a cup to fill with water, then drained it down your throat just as fast as it had been filled. 

With water in your body, your systems were finally coming back online. Road trip. Car ride. Your eyes widened. “Oh my god. I have to pack.”

“You haven't packed yet?” He queried, tone light and teasing as he watched the progression of your panic with amusement. “Even Jeno's packed.”

You sputtered back at him, “Quiet, you!”

Sungchan's warm laugh followed you out into the hallway and all the way to your room. You couldn't understand why your face felt so hot; you should have been too preoccupied to be embarrassed, after all. 

You slammed your bedroom door shut, dragging a hand down your face. You couldn't believe Sungchan just saw your I-just-worked-for-eight-hours-in-customer-service face. Not even some of your closest friends had seen the aftermath of your night shifts at work yet. 

Crazy. 

It wasn't every family vacation where a plus-one was invited. Your family tried to set aside time for these trips just for the six of you, but this time was an exception. Somehow—you weren't a part of the delegations—Sungchan was invited on this summer's trip to the coast. Your mom mentioned offhandedly it was because Sungchan “was a nice boy,” or something to that effect. Your family rented out a cabin right along the beach for a week, and the lot of you were going to be stuck in the family minivan for a good eight hours together. 

And if Sungchan was tagging along, that meant you were going to have to fight for the middle row seat or—

“Yn—you’re in the back with Sohee and Anton.”

You came to a screeching halt on your way out of the house, a bucket hat shielding your puffy eyes from the waking world, your duffle strapped over your shoulder. It was seven hours later—an ungodly eight in the morning. “What? Nuh-uh; I don't think so.”

Jeno stood only a few meters ahead of you by the door of the minivan, his hands primed on either side of his hips as if he was the self-proclaimed guardian of the car seating chart. “Well, I said so. Sungchan has longer legs than you—”

“Why don't you sit in the back then?” You shot back with a saccharine sweet smile. You were too tired for this shit. 

Sungchan scratched the side of his head as he walked out of the house to stand by you and join the argument, his flip flops thwacking against the ground. “Uhh, I can sit in the back middle seat. It's cool, dude.”

“Sungchan's too tall for the middle seat,” your dad interjected. He took yours and Sungchan's bags to add to the trunk. “Yn's in the back. Sorry, hon.”

“Dad,” you groaned. 

“You can switch with Jeno half way.”

“Dad!” Jeno squawked this time. 

Your father gave a tired sigh, saying more than he would ever say aloud. “Everyone in the car. Can't you two be like Sohee and Anton? At least they're knocked out.”

“They know they'll be sent to the back without question,” you pointed out as you made your way to the minivan. As you passed by your brother, you sent him a very potent stink eye, then clambered into the back row. 

Like your father had said, your younger brothers, Sohee and Anton, were already dead asleep. Their mouths hung open wide enough to catch any wayward fly with their heads angled back against their neck pillows. You snorted and snapped a photo of them to add to your collection of brotherly blackmail. 

Your mom was settled into the front passenger seat already queuing up driving directions to get to the coast. From your perch in the middle, you had a clear view of her phone screen—seven hours and two minutes. Yay. 

You supposed there wasn't anything too terrible about the middle seat; you were out like a light as soon as the car pulled out of the driveway. 

When you woke up, it was about four hours later, and your parents were having a hushed discussion amongst themselves and Sungchan. A baseball cap had materialized on top of Sungchan's head at some point when you were asleep, and the sleeves of his T-shirt were once again rolled up to expose his muscled shoulders. Did this guy not have a tank top?

“...I like it, at least—well, I don't mind all the extra requirements, and I know it'll help me reach my ultimate end goal, so.”

Your mom let out a hum of approval. “Ah, that's good that you like it. You'll be busy as a nurse.”

Right, Sungchan was in the nursing program. Your brother wasa kinesiology major, and you were going into law. It made for quite the diverse pool in the car. 

You opened your mouth in a yawn and fumbled your hand around your lap for where your earbud had fallen out of your ear, carefully so that you didn't shake off Anton's head on your shoulder. (Oh no, was he drooling?)

“Yn-ah, good morning,” your mother teased quietly. 

You glanced up, eyes going wide when you realized both your mom and Sungchan were now peering back at you. “Morning,” you murmured. Your fingers enclosed around your fallen earbud to tuck it into the case left in the bag at your feet. 

“Sleep well?” Sungchan piped up. There was that twinkle in his eyes, the same one from last night. It made your stomach twist in a way that was more pleasant than not. 

You cleared your throat, unconsciously reaching up to adjust the placement of your bucket hat and praying you didn't look like a sewer rat. “For the most part,” you replied. “How about you?”

He shrugged. “I had a decent power nap. Your mom says you're going into law. That's really cool.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Thanks. And you're in nursing, right? That's cool, too—super admirable.”

Sungchan's mouth widened into a small grin. “Thanks. It's only our first year, but it feels like so much work already.”

“Right? Tell me about it…”

Less than fifteen minutes later, the family van pulled into the parking lot of a diner off the interstate, exactly halfway through your journey. The seven of you, weary and hungry, filed out of the vehicle and into the establishment. You and your parents slid into one booth, while your brothers and Sungchan occupied the one behind you. 

There was a low-spun fan swirling above your heads, an 80s song you vaguely recognized wafting through the air at a dull decibel. Your phone was stashed away in the bag tucked into your end of the booth seat while you idly sipped on your glass of iced water. 

You jolted at the feeling of something light hitting the back of your head. 

A gasp from behind you. 

You rolled your eyes, twisting around in your seat while picking the wadded up straw wrapper from your hair. “Who did it?” You deadpanned. 

The boys table was filled with sheepish expressions, to their credit. Your younger brothers, who were sitting on the far side facing you, thrusted their fingers in each other's faces in a torrent of blame and accusation. 

“Aish, never mind. I don't care who did it,” you dismissed. Your eyes caught onto Sungchan's. He sat just diagonally to your left and for some reason, his eyes on you made you feel warm. 

You flicked the wrapper back; it hit Anton square in the forehead. Jeno barked out a laugh. 

“Nice shot,” Sungchan nodded, extending his fist to you. 

You couldn't suppress the smile from coming onto your face as you bumped his fist with yours. 

Food arrived swiftly afterward, and it was demolished as quickly as it came. In the sway of a palm tree frond, the seven of you were back in the confines of the family minivan. 

The remainder of the car ride carried over quickly. Though Jeno unhappily sat his ass down in your previous spot with you claiming his from before, he and your other brothers snored away five minutes in. You didn't go back to sleep despite having a full belly and less than five hours of sleep under your belt; you watched the world pass by outside the window in a blur. 

Urban skylines melted into rolling emerald mountains and pastures, sank into palm trees and sandy shores that met a blue horizon as far as the eye could see. 

The beach house your family rented this year was a two story cottage-type. It was small, with only one bedroom and bathroom upstairs, a bathroom downstairs, and a living room and kitchen. The rest was all beach. It was determined that you and your mom would be given the honors of the upstairs bedroom and bathroom, while all the boys piled into the living room. 

Once everyone was settled in, there was little else to do but go make use of your new backyard for the next week. 

“Yn! Come on, slowpoke!” Sohee shouted at you from the shoreline with cupped hands. You saw his bare back as he splashed into the waves after Anton, who was already only a speck in your vision. 

Your bare feet sank into the sand, and you wiggled your toes between the warm grains. Sunshine, glorious and concentrated above the distant horizon, soaked into your skin. Ah, this was the life.

Just as you reached for the hem of your shirt to reveal your bathing suit, you caught movement from the corner of your eye. Jeno and Sungchan were coming onto the beach from the front of the house, a disassembled volleyball net hanging between them. 

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head at the sight of Sungchan's back—

Before Jeno or any of your other brothers or Sungchan could catch you ogling, you gave yourself a nice, mental slap to the face. No more. You needed to stop this. When did you ever look at Sungchan like this?

(You could still remember when he was the gangly kid with the growth spurt trying out for the high school soccer team. He was paired with Jeno to test his potential, and the rest was history.)

Sungchan was the first to spot you as he and Jeno determined a place to set up the net. He beamed boyishly, his chin inclining toward you. “Hey, wanna play?”

Your eyes flickered to the corded necklace hanging from his collar and between his—Yn, shut the fuck up. “Sure,” you said simply, feigning nonchalance. 

If he noticed your wandering eyes, he didn't comment. Instead, he nodded back at you. “Sick.”

You both turned back to your original tasks. Your hands went back to the bottom hem of your shirt to tug it up and off your body. (Maybe you weren't the only one with wandering eyes, though.)

You draped your clothes over the back porch railing and began making your way down to the shoreline. “I'm gonna take a dip and then come back up!” You said to Jeno and Sungchan. 

“Oh, okay—ow!” 

You didn't see nor hear what happened, but when you glanced back, Sungchan had his back turned to you as he furiously rubbed the back of his head, while Jeno smiled innocently. 

Your older brother waved you along. “Carry on!” He said. 

Walking backward for a couple steps, you shot him an incredulous look, then turned around to meet your little brothers in the ocean. Whatever. 

You had been staring at the wooden ceiling above your head for the past forty-five minutes. Your mom's even breathing and the ocean waves rolling outside the window failed to rock you into unconsciousness. You'd figured the sunlight from this afternoon would have made you tired, or perhaps all the food you ate for dinner, but your eyes continued to stay wide open. 

A quiet sigh fell from your mouth as you rolled over onto your side and gently peeled the covers off. With near silent footsteps across the oak floors, you slipped out of the bedroom and down the stairs. 

The cacophony of combined snoring from all the men in the living room was comparable to the volume of the waves just outside. 

You barely contained your snort of amusement. You didn't worry about waking any of them up as you crossed the living room, full of a smorgasbord of limbs and bodies draped across the large couch sectional and blankets on the floor. 

The back door was left unlatched when you reached its threshold. Outside, moonlight dappled across the calm sea like a sprinkling of diamonds. You slowly pried the door open, freezing. 

You and Sungchan made eye contact from across the back porch. He was perched on the top step, nursing a bottle of beer in his hand. A loose breeze wafted through the strands of his hair. 

“Sorry,” you whispered, moving to retreat back into the house. 

“Oh, no—please.” He patted the empty space next to him on the porch step. 

You blinked, at odds. He was clearly out here for a reason and you'd figured he wanted some space, but if he was inviting you, then… 

You closed the back door behind you and settled beside him, with a comfortable amount of negative space between your bodies. You folded your arms over the tops of your knees and stared out at the midnight horizon. It smelled of salt and sea spray, and the light wind was a refreshing crispiness against the humid evening air. 

“Couldn't sleep?” He murmured, glancing over at you. 

You nodded. “Yeah. You?”

He hummed in response. 

“I'm not surprised,” you said. The corners of your lips curled upward. “I wouldn't be able to sleep amongst my brothers either. Their snoring could wake a bear.”

Sungchan sputtered out a laugh as his eyes crinkled upward and he pressed the back of his knuckles against his mouth. “I wasn't gonna say it, but…”

You shared a grin with him. “I will happily say it for you, dude.” 

His eyes were stunning in this lighting. The moonlight hit his irises at an angle that made them shimmer like a shade of molten copper. He licked his lips, and you saw his eyes dart from your eyes, down a few inches, then further down to the beer bottle in his hands. 

“Oh, uh,” he stammered, tipping the bottle nose in your direction, “want some? I thought the alcohol would help me sleep, but it's not looking awfully promising.”

For a split second, your heart leapt at the thought—your mouth pressed against the place his mouth had been, tasting the place he'd drunk from. 

You dashed the thought from your mind. It couldn't have been so significant as your brain was making it out to be. You were probably just sleep deprived. 

“Thanks,” you said while reaching across the gap to accept it from him. Judging by the weight, it was just about half full, and you took a light swig. 

A drop of liquid dribbled out of the corner of your lips, and you swiped it with the pad of your thumb, sticking the finger into your mouth to suck it off. You passed the bottle back over to him, catching his eyes not looking at yours. 

(The organ in your chest was no longer in your chest. Was it normal for your heart to make a home in your throat instead? Why did he look at you like that?)

“Any reason for not being able to sleep?” You asked him to break the silence. “I mean, besides the symphony my brothers and dad are conducting, of course.”

His eyes shuddered, as if breaking out of a trance. “Oh, uhm—nothing in particular, I guess. Maybe it's just from all the excitement. I think it's usually hard for me to sleep in new places.”

You bobbed your head in understanding. “No, I get that. It takes me a little to get used to new environments, too. I don't know how I would have survived if I was living in the dorms at uni and not at home.” The university you attended was a decent commute from your house, so living on campus was never something you gave much thought to. The idea of living independently appealed to you sometimes, but in general, you didn't have a ton of qualms against your circumstances now. 

“For sure,” Sungchan whistled lowly. He contemplated the opening of his beer bottle, then took a gentle sip of its contents. “Have you made a lot of friends? I feel like it's a lot harder than people make it seem.”

You passed him a curious glance this time. “Some, but it's definitely not as easy as high school. You haven't made a lot of friends?”

“The soccer team, mainly,” he chuckled. “The occasional ally in my classes.”

You let out a bright laugh that made his smile widen. “'Ally?’” You parroted. “What a fun word to call classmates.”

“It's true!” He insisted, chuckling. “Some of these professors are evil, man. Competitive grades? Not a chance,” He scoffed. “We're all in this together, even if the curve is against us.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep from being too loud, but the rolling waves likely covered your noise plenty. Your family were deep sleepers. 

“I just figured that you meet lots of people,” you offered when your mirth died down to a giggle. You toed a pile of sand sitting on the last step of the porch. “Your socials are pretty active,” you said, “but I guess I shouldn't judge a book by its cover.”

“I could say the same about you, Miss Party Girl,” he smirked. “When are you gonna drag me to a rave?”

Heat raced up to your cheeks. “I've only been to one,” you said, rolling your eyes. He'd seen that post? First, the post-work daze, and now, the turnt raver? “I haven't gone to a party in a few weeks 'cause of finals anyway.” 

Now that you thought about it, you'd been so busy as of late, you couldn't even count the amount of outings you'd declined on your two hands. 

“Trust me, I get it.” He raised his hands in an act of surrender, his knees angling toward you. The negative space was suddenly a lot less negative. 

Another tip of his beer bottle; it swapped hands once, twice more. The liquid dribbled smooth down your throat just as Sungchan knocked the rest back. The empty glass made a dull thunk sound as it hit the wooden porch to Sungchan's right. 

“So what I'm getting,” you drawled, mimicking his position by angling your knees toward his. You felt your legs brush—the stimulus sent a jolt down your nerves that warned of addiction and tasted like the forbidden. “Is that you've never been to a rave before?”

Sungchan gave a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe I have.”

You mocked his shrug. “Maybe you have.”

“Or maybe it's just that I haven't gone with you yet.”

Even the waves seemed to quiet for a second. Your heartbeat stuttered in your chest, and you tied down the nervous laugh ready to bubble out of your mouth. You bit your lip and found yourself nodding. “We'd paint the town red, Jung Sungchan,” you murmured. 

There it was again—that flicker of his gaze to some place you both knew crossed a line. It was the beer, was what you were telling yourself. It was the beer. 

Seagulls surfed the ever-blue sky. Eternal summer could be thought of as a filter of golden, glittery gauze across one's already rose-colored glasses. But summer, truly, was the shade of Jung Sungchan's tank top peeling off his body as he sprinted down the sandbank after your brother, Anton. 

You watched the fabric whip around in the salt breeze before settling into a heap where his footprint melted into the mineral grains. You were giving Sohee the sunscreen spritz-down up on the covered porch, while Jeno barreled down the bank after his friend and brother. 

From behind you came the scratch of the back door sliding open. You and Sohee peered back to where your mom poked her head out. 

She just barely caught her sunglasses in time as they slipped off her head. “Hey, your dad and I are heading out. Watch each other, okay?”

“Got it!” You and Sohee chirped. 

One more nod from your mom, and then she was gone. Your parents were going to take a date into town, just the two of them. That left you and the boys here with the surf and sand—definitely not a terrible compromise. If you wanted, you could probably have the whole house to yourself, anyway. These guys could entertain themselves. 

“Yn! Sohee!” 

Jeno arced one arm up into the sky to beckon you down to the sea, only to get dragged underwater by his two comrades. You and Sohee harked out twin laughs as you watched Jeno fight for his life with limbs flailing and foam flying into the sky. 

You patted Sohee's shoulder as you set the can of sunscreen onto the porch step. “Alrighty, you're good to go, bro.”

“Thanks—race you down!”

“Hey!” Your laughter echoed as you bolted down the sand after him to join the fun. 

As your feet dug into the wet embankment, your palms made purchase against Sohee's shoulders to shove him into the water. A yelp leapt into the air, and you turned away to avoid getting hit in the face with the consequence of your prank. 

“I'm so gonna get you for that!” Sohee spat water out of his mouth, a wicked grin pulling onto his lips. 

“No, you're not, actually!” 

You bolted—well, stomped, your way through the knee-deep water, furiously trying to get away from karma. Water yanked down on your limbs in a forceful coax to give into your punishment, but you were determined. 

You could hear your brothers’ hollers of encouragement: “Get her, Sohee!” and “RUN, YN, RUN!”

Adrenaline pumped through your veins and you pushed your legs harder. 

“I got her!” Wait, was that Sungchan?—

You suddenly felt a pair of hands on either side of your waist—you swore as your legs came out of the water and your world twisted. 

“No, no, no, no, no!” You squawked, squirming wildly in Sungchan's arms as he scooped you into his hold like a bride. (NO. NOT LIKE A BRIDE. WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE A BRIDE?—) One arm cradled your back and the other under your knees, and he laughed—he chuckled—as you attempted to flip yourself out of his grasp. 

“You're not getting out of this, party girl,” he said close to your ear. 

For a heartbeat, you lost your breath at the rasp behind his words and the grin on his face. But a heartbeat was all he needed. 

There was free fall, and then all sound muffled as cold water engulfed your body. You plugged your nose and screwed your eyes shut. You felt your ass hit the sand at the bottom in slow motion, before the air in your lungs began to lift you back up to the surface of the water. 

You broke out with a gasp, hair flipping back as you furiously swiped your hands down your face to get the water out of your eyes. They stung like a bitch, but you could feel the rush of blood in your ears; it was thrilling. 

A hand in your vision enclosed around yours.

“You asshole!” You scowled up at Sungchan from where you knelt, though it was half-hearted. 

He beamed back at you boyishly with damp hair hanging in his eyes and water running down the crevices of his stomach like a goddamn system of canals. “You're a good sport, Yn.”

“I'm really not.”

You had the distinct pleasure of seeing the smile slip off his face before you used his grip on you to yank him into the water. You swallowed a good half pint of saltwater, but the revenge couldn't have been sweeter. 

When Sungchan's head broke the surface, it was followed by a dog-like shake of his head. You laughed to turn away from the spray of water; Sungchan delighted at the sound. 

Amusement still lingered on your lips as your eyes snagged on the piece of seaweed that made its home on his head. You didn't think twice about it before leaning closer to reach it. 

You stepped forward, and—oh boy, was that a mistake. 

You had a front row seat view of a droplet of water slipping down the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, and the cliff of his chin. You wrestled down a swallow, and pulled the seaweed off his head, flinging it into the water. 

“You had, uhm, a little…”

“Right, thanks—”

You both flinched apart as a man-made wave of water crashed into your sides. “AMBUSH!” Your three brothers declared, springing up out of the water and parading a full-blown attack with all weapons firing. 

You and Sungchan were swift to launch your own counterattack. 

Merriment filled the summer air as much as saltwater embedded into your skin and eyes and mouth. You almost made the mistake of thinking your racing heart was just from the determination to beat your brothers, and not from the guy on your side of the war. The heat was getting to you and the sun was getting to him.  

It was about an hour later that you found yourself lazing upon the slick and smooth plane of a surfboard. The ocean rocked you gently from beneath the board; it had been surprisingly calm all of today. 

At some point, you and the boys established a truce in the Great Water War, mainly because your brothers were hungry and there was a big, juicy watermelon just begging to be cut open and devoured in the house. 

Suffice to say, you let your brothers figure it out. 

Your consciousness faded into the foreground of your mind as a distant sound of splashing neared. You peaked one eye open, lifting the rim of the hat up to see who dared to encroach upon your isle. 

You could recognize Sungchan's mop of hair from a mile away, at this point. You couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing, but why did it have to be either?

He cropped up right beside you, pushing back his hair to keep the water out of his eyes. “Hi.”

A smile curled onto your lips, teasing. “Hi. Good swim?”

“Good nap?”

“As good as one can be on the open ocean,” you said, shifting the hat up so you could see him better, but keeping your face shaded. “I don't know how dolphins sleep with half their brain on.”

Sungchan's brows rocketed toward his hairline. “They sleep with half their brain on? Crazy.”

“I know. I can't even stay awake with half my brain on.”

You and he shared a laugh, and he set a palm on the board next to your body. “Aw, no,” he assured. “If you've got less than half a brain on at all times, then I've got one brain cell.”

“Joke's on you, half my brain is half a brain cell.”

He wrinkled his nose at you. Cute. “Sweetheart, hate to break it to you, but that's not how brain cells work.”

You nearly fell off the board. “Okay, Mr. Know-it-all, do tell.”

“I'm not about to talk about neurons on my vacation.”

You challenged him with a look. “Overruled, counselor. Answer the question.”

His mouth fell open in a stunned daze, and his reaction made you break face for a moment to laugh. He blinked. “I have to be really honest with you…” Sungchan carded a hand through his hair, then pressed his knuckles to his mouth. “That was really hot.”

Was it suddenly five degrees warmer out here? 

If blood rushing in your ears was akin to the sound of waves crashing, there must have been one hell of a tsunami in your veins right now. 

You sputtered a laugh. “You need to get out of the sun—”

“I'm sorry I said that aloud,” he grimaced sheepishly. 

“Nurse? Nurse!—” You feigned raising your head up to look around for an imaginary nurse in the middle of the ocean. “Oh, right. You are the nurse.”

He groaned, tilting his head back and playfully punching your shoulder. “You're so—”

“Hot?”

You howled at the sight of his cheekbones blooming the color of ripe watermelon. “I'm kidding; I'm teasing!”

He sighed, smiling despite the pain etched onto his gorgeous features. “Never living that down, am I?”

You shifted your position to laying on your stomach now, your arms folded beneath your chin. Sungchan carefully turned the surfboard so the tip faced him, and you were trapped in his gaze, head-on. “It was cute,” you consoled. 

“So you think I'm cute?” He cocked a brow. 

“And you think I'm hot.”

He flicked water at you. “Aaand, there it is!” 

You laughed again, delighted at the red lingering on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. God, he was fucking gorgeous. 

A beat passed for a second. Something settled between the two of you, a thing you couldn't yet put a name on, but it had been there since last night. Or maybe it had been there longer, festering in the negative space between you until said space could become something of a memory. 

You weren't sure why he was here—why he'd swum out here to meet you when his best friend was back at the beach house, gorging on watermelon and getting his ass handed to him in Mario Kart by his siblings; why he all of a sudden occupied a part of your mind like the tide creeping up the embankment at four in the afternoon. At first, he was far enough for you to settle into a false sense of security; until all of a sudden, there he was, the foamy waves lapping at your feet and his smile the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes. 

His tongue swiped over his lips and he cleared his throat. “So, uh, watermelon?” That was his original reason for coming out here. (He did volunteer, after all.)

You perked up. “Right, sure. Watermelon.”

“Great.” He broke into a smile, but the corners of it were softer, fonder. You could get used to the look of it. 

There was this saying—the elephant in the room—but here in the cabin living room, it was definitely more of a blue whale. Just completely out of the water, weighing about thirteen tons, the size of twelve school buses… yeah, that sounded about right. 

“GO FISH!” Anton flung his finger across the circle at Jeno with the glee of a kid on Christmas morning. “Suck it!”

Your mom sent an express glare his way. “Anton.”

Your youngest shrunk down sheepishly. “Sorry, eomma.”

The seven of you were settled in the living space this fine evening with a deck of cards. Your parents were on the couches watching the movie on screen and the game before them, while you, your brothers, and Sungchan huddled around the coffee table playing said game. Sunsoaked and weary, it only took one hearty and filling dinner to perk the lot of you right back up like a field of sunflowers.

“This is a stupid game,” Jeno sulked as he examined his hand of cards. 

“You only say that because you're losing,” you pointed out. “Anyways, Jeno, can I have that three?”

Jeno cut you a glare as the rest of the table rolled into fits of laughter. Your smile was cheeky, reaching out to snatch the three Jeno revealed he had during his turn. 

“That's cold,” Sohee snorted. 

Your eyes darted over to Sungchan opposite you. His eyes were glimmering. “Yeah, I didn't know you had so much ruthlessness in you, Yn.”

“Why do you think she's going into law?” Jeno grunted. Though one card less, it meant that he had one less pair in his finished pile. At this rate, you might win and end up with the most pairs. 

“Guys, it's literally just how you play the game.” You nodded over at Sohee. “Sohee, do you have a jack?”

Your younger brother handed it over without ceremony. “Unfortunately.”

“Anton, do you have an ace?”

He shook his head. “Go fish, noona.”

“See?” You said to the rest of the table, but your eyes went to Sungchan's. “The nature of the game.”

They let you off the hook because you didn't plunder everyone of their cards this round. It continued on with Sohee, then Anton, before landing on Sungchan. 

He made a show of considering his cards, a furrow between his brows. He glanced up at you over the rim of his hand and gestured with a curl of his fingers. “I'd like that ace, Yn.”

“Oooh,” Anton giggled. 

Jeno grinned as you extended the ace across the table to Sungchan. “Karma.”

“Thank you—” his fingers grazed against yours as he plucked the card from your grasp, “—very much.”

You pressed your lips into a small smile, nose wrinkling up at him. You had a few cards left to rid yourself of. 

Your dad cleared his throat as he stood up from the couch to bring his empty bowl to the sink. “By the way, are you kids still going into town tomorrow?”

The five of you exchanged brief eye contact with one another. “Yep.”

The idea had come up during dinner after your parents came back. They'd mentioned a variety of activities and little shops to visit that might be fun for you to see, including a hand churned ice cream shop and a port side arcade building. It would just be the five of you going, while your parents would walk down to the beach trails about a mile from the cabin to go hiking. 

In the morning, you and everyone else in the house took your time getting up and ready for the day. Breakfast was taken together at the table before you split off into your separate parties. 

Jeno took the wheel with Sungchan riding shotgun, and you sat in the middle row with Sohee, while Anton occupied the back. You rolled down your window to rest your chin on the fold of your elbow, your sunglasses slipping down the bridge of your nose as you watched the scenery pass by. 

Right in front of you, Sungchan also had his window rolled down with his arm propped on the lowered sill. He chatted animatedly with Jeno about whatever game he and all three of your brothers were playing this morning, but you could feel his gaze go to his side view mirror more than once. 

The ride was an easy, breezy one. 

The main town center bustled with locals and visitors alike in the late morning. Jeno found free parking about a block away, and the five of you walked over as one big group. 

“Ice cream first!” Anton declared with one arm raised toward the sky. 

“I concur,” you chimed in. You lifted your sunglasses up slightly so you could read the town directory easier. “Seems like we're close by.”

Anton nodded in approval. “Onwards, then.”

You and your youngest brother led the way. The idea of ice cream made your mouth water, especially since you could already feel a bead of sweat dribble down your spine. Why was it so goddamn hot?

The shop was a cute, little building with a pink and white striped awning and a large window in the front that gave visitors a front row view into the ice cream churning experience. You snorted as Anton pressed his nose up against the glass, a wide grin splitting his face. 

“You're scaring the workers, dude,” you jested, tugging your brother along. 

Anton scrunched his nose up at you. “You scare me every morning.”

“Just because you're a wimp when I put toner pads on—hey! Do you want ice cream or not?” You cackled as he attempted to flick you square in the forehead. 

Jeno groaned. “Guys, can we please act normal for once?” He asked as he swung the door open for everyone. 

Sungchan beat you to the punchline, slapping his friend on the back while he ducked inside. “That's rich coming from you, man.”

“Hey!” 

The squabble was swiftly swept out of your mind when you stepped foot into the shop. You were nearly knocked over from the potency of the sugary waffle cone scent that occupied the room. At the sight of tubs upon tubs of frozen treats kept within the display case, your entire face lit up, eyes going glassy with wonder. “Oh no, too many to choose from,” you gasped, cupping the lower half of your face. 

Sungchan chuckled beside you as he crossed his arms and assessed the dozen options before you. “I didn't know you were such an ice cream fanatic, party girl,” he mused. He glanced over at you with a fond sort of gleam in his eye. 

“Don't even get her started,” Sohee groaned. “She and Anton have a sweet tooth to rival Willy Wonka.”

Anton flagged down one of the workers, having already found his targets to try. He was in here for less than two minutes and was already rattling off the entire menu to the poor girl behind the counter. 

“Tiramisu sounds really good,” you muttered. Your eyes moved slowly from tub to tub. Another gasp flew from your lips, and you clasped a hand on Sungchan's shoulder. “Wait—but strawberry shortcake—hhhhh.” You wrinkled your brows together, lips pressed into a taut line. 

This was not good. 

“You could always get a double scoop,” Sungchan suggested. 

You bobbed your head. “That's true, but I'm just worried I won't be able to finish, y'know.”

“Well, maybe I'll get one of the flavors you want and we can split.” His shrug was all too casual. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, biting his lip through a smile. 

The organ in your chest gave a hop, skip, and a leap. You weren't sure if it was at the thought of it all working out alright or if it was because of Sungchan's generous gesture. You were telling yourself it was the former, but you could be persuaded it was the latter if given a light shove in that direction. 

When everyone's scoops were paid for, you fell into a loose formation to stroll around town while you finished your treats. 

You and Sungchan were glued to each other's sides out of necessity since you were sharing flavors. Jeno walked on his other side, however, lapping at his cotton candy blue scoop seated upon a throne of waffle cone. The two youngest walked in front, leading you all to wherever they wished to go. 

The town itself was rather quaint when you finally soaked it in. It seemed like the kind of place everyone knew everyone, and if you were new or only visiting, the locals were just as friendly and welcoming. The town center was stocked with anything a resident might need—a small grocer down the street, clothing stores and restaurants lining the boulevard, a newspaper stand at the corner, a laundromat, a hardware store, and more places you were certain you wouldn't be able to see in just one walk. 

As you scooped a bite out of some of the last bits of tiramisu in Sungchan's cup, Jeno was summoned up to his brothers who were debating over which way they should turn next. You and Sungchan lingered behind to finish off the ice cream in your respective cups. 

Just as you slurped up the melted shortcake ice cream at the bottom of yours, your eyes caught onto a storefront behind Sungchan. It was decked out in cliché boho-chic, with braided nets, shells, and sand dollars in the window and over the door frame. The souvenir shop seemed to embody the quintessential tourist trap, and you didn't mind falling into it. 

“—guys, we're gonna go to the arcade now!” Jeno said, beckoning you and Sungchan over. They must have decided on a route then. 

You made your decision. “You guys can go ahead! I'm gonna pop into this place for a second. I promised I'd get my friend Minjeong something.” Minjeong was one of the few close friends you made at university, and though you didn't promise to her face you'd get her something, you were determined to get her a little trinket as a token of your affection. 

“You're gonna go alone?” 

You blinked. “Yeah, I'll just meet you guys at the arcade.” 

Sohee piped up, “But mom said buddy system.” Okay, you should probably honor that, but it wasn't as if the four of you always followed that rule. 

“I'll go with you.”

All eyes went to Sungchan who tossed his empty cup and spoon into the nearby trash can. He gave a nonchalant lift of his shoulders. “I wanted to get my mom something anyway.”

You tilted your head to the side curiously as Jeno narrowed his eyes at Sungchan, like they were communicating telepathically. Odd. 

In fact, you didn't really know what to think about being alone with Sungchan. There was a difference between coincidentally ending up on the porch together or conversing in the ocean away from everyone else, to purposefully breaking off from the group to spend time with each other. 

Then again, he said he was getting something for his mom. That gave a different implication to him volunteering to accompany you. The goal was capitalism, not something forbidden.

Maybe you were thinking about this too much. 

“Okay, fine,” Jeno relented. “We'll meet you at the arcade, but don't take too long or we'll leave without you.”

“Aye-aye,” you teased, raising a hand to wave goodbye to your brothers. “C'mon, Sungchan.”

You dumped your empty ice cream cup and spoon into the trash before slipping inside the souvenir shop with Sungchan following right after you. You lifted your sunglasses up on top of your head, skin prickling with gooseflesh from the draft of air conditioning wafting overhead. A soft-toned acoustic played in the background, accompanied by the cheery greeting of a staff member from behind the register. 

You and Sungchan lifted your hands in warm reply, then disappeared into the aisles to explore. 

Your fingers grazed along the racks of clothes branded with the beach town's name and minimalist artwork; your eyes roamed over the ships displayed in bottles on the walls, the not-for-sale surfboard hung for decor. Like many souvenir shops, there were several turning displays that boasted rows upon rows of themed keychains with specific names engraved into them. 

“I will never find my name amongst these,” Sungchan mused quietly from beside you as the two of you rifled through the surfboards and seashells and sharks. “And yet, I look for the S names all the time.”

“Valid,” you nodded. “Sometimes I can't find my name either, but it's the hope that gets you.”

“And fails you,” he pointed out.

“Touché.” 

Near the keychain displays stood a tower of hats and head accessories galore. There were crocheted bonnets, straw hats, ball caps, and even headbands. Your expression glittered as you plucked up a headband with twin sunflowers on the top like a pair of antennas. 

After hanging your shades on your shirt color, you donned the headpiece, twirling around to show Sungchan. “Thoughts?” You asked, failing to sweep your grin away. 

Sungchan beamed back at you. “Oh, you're too cute.”

You ignored the heat creeping up the back of your neck to reach for another headband—this time, one topped with red crab claws. Sungchan graciously bowed his head for you to crown him with the piece. 

“Fabulous,” you declared with your hands on your hips. 

He peered into the small mirror to the side of the hat rack. “You think?”

“Of course.” So much so, that you pulled out your phone to snap a picture. You tilted your head toward his to fit both of your faces and headbands in the frame. 

Sungchan peered over your shoulder to take a glimpse at the photos. His tongue was jammed into his cheek, and you could feel his breath along the shell of your ear. “Send me those?”

“I'd need your number first.”

He grinned boyishly, roughing a hand through his hair before taking your phone from you. “You don't even have to ask.”

As he saved his contact information into your phone, you attempted to calm the giddy butterflies in your stomach by peering back into the mirror at the headband on your head. You squished the plush sunflower heads with your fingers, humming thoughtfully. “I low-key wanna buy this.”

He glanced up from your phone before handing it back to you. “If you buy that one, I'll buy this one,” he replied, pointing up at the crab claws on his head. 

“You're such an enabler,” you jested. A beat passed. “Okay, but only if you get it with me.”

“That is what I said,” he chuckled, eyebrows arched. 

The remainder of the time you and Sungchan spent in the shop was mainly to figure out what you would purchase for Minjeong and what Sungchan would buy for his mom. (Mainly, implying that there was still room for shenanigans.) It took a little more than half an hour, but you both emerged from the souvenir shop with a gift bag each, containing your headbands and the baubles bought. 

The arcade was only about a ten minute's walk from your location, so you and Sungchan took your sweet time getting there. As the two of you walked—the backs of your hands grazing against one another, shoulders bumping—you nearly forgot that Sungchan was your brother's good friend. Jeno had never made it a point that you and his friends should never mix, and you knew he could care less about your love life, but this was different. (Was it?) It felt like something that shouldn't happen, and yet, why were you starting to want it so badly?

The outside of the arcade was a cream colored building, much like the others in town, but with large posters on the outside beckoning guests to come in and try their hand. Your brothers texted you to let you know they were in a game of laser tag right now, so that gave you and Sungchan a little more time to yourselves within the arcade. 

“I have an idea!” Sungchan grabbed your free hand and hauled you off toward something in the distance. 

The feeling of your fingers slotting with his had more than just your steps skipping. “Hey, man—you and your long legs need to chill!” You hollered at him through a laugh. 

He sent you a look over his shoulder before stopping at one corner of the arcade. With jazz hands, he presented his marvelous idea. “Ta-da!”

Before you was an all-time classic: Dance Dance Revolution. 

Your eyes widened just as your smile did. “It's like you read my mind,” you marveled. 

The machine was just like the movies with a multicolored screen of bright blues and purples, a platform with two sets of arrows in the floor, and two arched rails at the back for each player to hold onto as they danced the night away. 

Sungchan marched up onto the platform and fished a wadded up paper bill out from his wallet. “Have you played before?”

When the machine devoured his money, the screen leapt to life and blasted its opening music to announce that somebody was willing to step up to the challenge. 

You set your gift bag down at the foot of the platform and climbed up to join him. “I've only seen it done before, but I've always wanted to try it.”

You and he locked eyes, and you were sure the twinkle in his was a reflection of just how excited you were. 

“Well, today is your lucky day, party girl,” he chirped. “Let's see what you've got.”

It didn't take long for you to figure out that “what you've got” was a lot less than whatever Sungchan had. 

You grappled onto the railing behind you tightly as you stomped your feet against the coordinating arrows that flashed on-screen. How long had it been since that fateful first round? Ten minutes? Two days? It was all mashing together. 

“This is unfair; you have longer limbs,” you groaned after missing a few arrows in a row. Why were you so out of breath?

A bead of sweat dribbled down the side of Sungchan's head. It was almost comical how serious you were both taking this game. “I have practice,” he corrected cheekily. 

“Same difference!”

“A master never blames his tools.”

You huffed. “Bullshit.”

At this point, your losses were becoming ridiculous. Desperate times called for desperate measures. 

For a sequence you knew you were going to miss, you leaned over and pinched his side. Sungchan jolted—it did the trick, and he missed the steps. His head whipped over to you, an impish gleam in his irises. 

“Oh ho ho… you wanna play that game?”

You placed your hand on your hip as the round ended. “If I'm gonna lose, might as well go out with a bang.”

His tongue swiped over his lip. “You're on.”

The next round commenced, and adrenaline spiked through you like a spear, more powerful than before. You knew to expect Sungchan's revenge, but you struck first. 

A poke at his side resulted in a tickle at your waist. You returned his parry with a blind poke at his stomach. 

Anticipating his response, you spotted his arm incoming out of your periphery and moved to step out of his reach. Instead of solid platform, however, your breath hitched at the feeling of half your sandal slipping off the edge. 

Sungchan's eyes went wide and his arm instead curled around your waist and hauled you to him. “Shit,” he muttered, “are you okay? Sorry, that was totally my fault.”

Your palms had landed on his chest, your heart rate slowing but not fast enough. All of the excitement in your veins was likely more so from the game itself, and not from almost falling off the platform… and perhaps, another part of it was you realizing just how close you and Sungchan were now. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I'm completely fine; don't even worry about it. And it wasn't your fault—I miscalculated my step and I started it anyway.”

He pressed his lips together. “Still.”

“Nice catch, by the way,” you said quietly. 

You saw his eyes leave your gaze, and this time, you followed in his movements. He ducked his head, almost shyly. “I guess so,” he chuckled. “I'm glad I caught you.”

If anything, your heartbeat was gaining speed again. The hand pressed into your waist was a little more addicting than you would have liked, and his mouth was closer than you thought it had been. 

In the neon glow of the Dance Dance Revolution screen, you and Sungchan leaned toward one another with one aim, and one aim only. 

“Hey guys!” 

You leapt off the dance platform at the same time that Sungchan zipped to his side, gripping the railing with an expression akin to a deer caught in headlights. 

You pressed a hand against your palpitating heart and turned to find all three of your brothers bounding over to where you and Sungchan were. 

“Oh my god,” Anton gasped, “is that DDR?”

It seemed that Anton and Sohee were more focused on the game than yours and Sungchan's compromising position. But Jeno… you noted the suspicious narrowing of his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest…

You swore you and Sungchan swallowed at the same time. 

“Did we interrupt something?” Jeno drawled. 

“Nope!” 

You and Sungchan looked at each other at your simultaneous answer. Great. That definitely wasn't even more conspicuous or anything. 

Jeno pressed his lips together. “Uh-huh,” he said, unconvinced. “Well, Mom and Dad texted and asked for us to meet them at the house, so we've gotta go.” He lifted the screen of his phone up for you to see. Dear god, you hadn't even realized they'd texted the group chat.

You cleared your throat. “Right.” 

You picked up your gift bag, and your younger brothers immediately flanked you on either side to gush about the game of laser tag they had just partaken in. Though you nodded and engaged in their conversation, your mind was elsewhere. 

Plus, it was hard not to be hyper aware of the fact that Sungchan was now alone to face Jeno somewhere behind you. You were not looking forward to the car ride back.

There were always some, unspoken fine lines that should not be crossed—at least, purposefully. In retrospect, you knew Jeno didn't care about who you chose to spend your time with, as long as they treated you right. In the same vein, you didn't care much about what he thought when it came to your own decisions, and yet, you found yourself caring a little more because this was one of his friends. Not yours. 

But feelings were feelings… and you were slowly coming to terms with yours. 

It was like déjà vu when you crept down the stairs in the dead of night for the second time this vacation. You simply could not bear staring at that wooden ceiling any longer with your mind reeling from this afternoon's events. 

The living room was yet again a cacophony of light snoring, and you crossed the room toward the back door once more. 

You paused again, the sight of Sungchan's back a familiar one. Instead of sitting on the porch steps, though, he leaned against the railing, gazing out at the dark waves. It was yet another calm night out on the embankment, but the moon tonight was hidden away behind a few wisps of cirrus clouds. 

He glanced over his shoulder at you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you greeted softly, gently closing the door behind you so you could join him at the railing. It was funny how you both were on the same wavelength. Fate had a funny way of encouraging you.

You and he hadn't properly spoken since the arcade, and Jeno hadn't said a word about it to you either. Dinner had gone on normally enough, so you were unsure of where this all stood. 

“I wanted,” Sungchan began, “to talk to you about something.”

You glanced over at him and found his eyes already on you. “Sure, of course.”

He straightened, gesturing to the sandy beach beyond. “Walk with me?”

You nodded and followed him down the porch steps. Your feet met the cool grains of sand, and a sense of calm seeped into your bones from the bottom up. 

A hand outstretched in your vision, uncertain. You clasped your hand in his palm, and the pair of you began to walk. You couldn't recall whether you began to adore the feeling of your hand wrapped up in his earlier or just now. 

“So…” you trailed off. 

“So,” he picked up. “About earlier today. I wanted to, uhm, make sure we were on the same page about something.” 

He stopped you both when you were a good distance from the house, where the waves slipped along the sand louder than the snores. 

“I had a really fun time with you today,” he said. 

You nodded your head in earnest. “I had a great time with you, too.”

He smiled then, hand letting go of yours to drag over his face. “I'm—I’m happy to hear that,” he replied, and you were sure he was trying to hide his growing giddiness. 

You reached over and gently pried his hands away from his face. “Did Jeno talk to you about today? Did he say anything?” Before he could reply, you added, “Because I know he means well, but who I choose to spend my time with is my decision. If he can't handle us together, then he'll have to learn to suck it up.”

“He did say something to me about it,” Sungchan admitted, “but it was just to make sure I wasn't playing around.” With his hands locked in yours, he gave your palms a reassuring squeeze. “And Yn, I'd like to take you out sometime—properly. No playing around.”

No more toeing the line in the sand. 

Your heart rattled violently in your chest. “I'd really like that.”

His expression melted into something tender, like the dark swirls of molten chocolate in the scoop of tiramisu ice cream. His thumb grazed over the back of your hand. “Okay,” he murmured, barely audible over the soft laps of the waves, “good.”

He considered you for a moment longer, teeth digging into his bottom lip. “I also—I did intend on kissing you earlier today, and I probably should have prefaced it, but—mmmh!”

You looped your arms around his neck and pulled his mouth over to yours. He sank into your hold with a content hum, his hands slipping around your waist to tug you closer to him. You'd never really thought about what kissing Jung Sungchan would be like, but you knew that your imagination couldn't have been better than this. 

When you broke apart with your foreheads pressed against each other and sharing breathing air, you let out a small laugh. The sound coaxed a warm chuckle out of your counterpart. 

“Sorry,” you breathed against his lips, “I probably should have asked first.”

He smiled against you. “You can apologize by kissing me again.”

He most certainly didn't have to tell you twice.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! (idek if that was good, im off my Game and off my Rocker dkfnrj)

m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @meosjinn @fluorescentloves @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @kflixnet

[cupidkenji]

Doctor, Doctor, please listen!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Tension (I tried), cursing, the smallest physical description of reader in the last portion (just mentions their stomach going over their pants), reader has scars from previous cases, rivals to lovers?, lmk if i'm missing smth Summary: 3 times you called him doctor, 3 times he wonders why. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but I don't really ever describe their bodies that much cause it's x READER and every body has a different body <3 WC: 3,596 I am literally so obsessed with criminal minds somebody save my soul OBLIVOUS IDIOTS WHO WANT EACH OTHER MY BELOVED. Title from mad hatter by Melanie Martinez don't even @ me for that

1.

“...she will be an important part of making your team function quicker. We fought hard to get her here. I ask that you all treat her with respect and not make me intervene.” 

Strauss finished her introductory spiel with a familiar “mom-glare” towards the team, walking away once she finished her speech. Unfortunately, her departure left you standing alone in front of the most intimidating man you’ve ever seen and four of his team members. You had been practically still until now. You hated the pressure of everyone’s eyes on you, causing a general freeze response to the stress of a new team. Fawn, you thought, the newest addition to the fight or flight categories and also the lovely thing forcing you to practically disassociate in front of your new boss and co-workers. 

“Welcome, Dr. L/N. We’ve heard good things. I’m Aaron Hotchner, I supervise the team.” He was leaning on the table before he stepped forward to shake your hand as he spoke. “This is Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid.” He pointed towards the corresponding people as he spoke of them. “Agent Rossi is away right now, and you’ll meet our T.I. later…she’s been excited.” If you hadn’t been good at your job, you’re sure you would have missed the way his lips turned up slightly at the edges when mentioning the woman. He didn’t seem so scary anymore, more like a father of the team. You’d been expecting a drill sergeant - your last team leader could have given a bull a run for it’s money with how much aggression that guy had. You welcomed the rush of excitement you felt at the discovery, mentally shaking off the stiffness you were carrying. 

“I’m happy to be here, sir. I’ve heard good things about the team, too. Your boss seems to think highly of your capabilities.” You addressed the room as you spoke. Public speaking was a skill you were still trying to master, so you practiced whenever you could. 

Your statement earned a chuckle from the table. Nobody bothered to explain the reason. You figured it was too much history to sum up on the spot. Your eyes wanted to linger on Reid. He seemed so young, and you wondered if he’d been told that his entire career - lord knows you had too. A fellow doctor. You assumed he was a bit of a stickler about the title, as even his boss kept it tacked onto his name when introducing him. You’d originally hoped to find some comfort in the man, on the surface he seemed a lot like you. He was probably too smart for his own good as well. Given the way he was staring at you, though, you felt the realization sink in that the man had no intention of welcoming you. 

“Why exactly do we need another profiler?” His voice held no malice as he spoke in the direction of his boss. There was more curiosity in his voice than anything, however you did pick up on the sense of superiority that sat just beneath the surface of his words. You guessed that’s how he behaved generally - as though he was superior. Still, your head tilted slightly to the side at the question. 

Damn. Tough crowd. 

You saw the intake of breath in Hotchner as he prepared to defend your place here but you spoke before he could start. “While I am a profiler, sir, first and foremost I am a psychiatrist - a doctor. As I’m sure you heard from Strauss, the board is unhappy with your recent efficiency rates and would also like to aid your team in dealing with mental health crises. I’ve spent my entire life studying the effects and conditions of the mentally diseased brain. I’ll be able to tell you the most efficient and effective way of interacting with these individuals, along with more accurately predicting their actions and methodology. I’m an agent, I took the same oath everyone here did but I was brought here for my expertise.” You were on a bit of a tangent, you knew that, but something about the smug feel of the man forced an emergence of competitiveness. He looked at you so indifferent, and you couldn’t help the tiny sparks of anger lighting beneath your skin. You kept a friendly disposition towards the man - you were a professional, after all, not a teenager - but you sensed a rivalry sprouting it’s roots.

The others at the table suppressed their smiles or looked down to hide it. Nobody had ever challenged Spencer like that. They could all feel he was a tad bit territorial. He was the guy people went to when they needed to know something. He was the Doctor of the group. They didn’t think he would take too kindly to another one encroaching his land. They saw the way he was tense, even more so after you responded. It was a riveting sight, though. The lot of them saw Spencer as a younger brother, and him meeting his match was something they were all so excited to see.

“Play nice, pretty boy.” Derek muttered to him, Spencer was slightly slouched in his chair now, not losing sight of you. Derek followed suit, turning his attention towards you. “We’re glad to have you, Doctor. We’ve spoken about an addition like you before, I’m glad to see the higher ups finally listened. I look forward to working with you - excuse me.” He left once his phone rang. 

The others took his exit as an excuse for their own, everyone giving you a warm welcome as they left. You reciprocated happily, telling everyone they could just call you by your first name, never having been one for titles. ‘There’s one difference.’ You thought, even your internal dialogue was bitter. Aside from him, there was a warmth here that you had been desperate to find in your last team. If you had to work passive aggressively with one uptight man in exchange for a team like this - you were going to take that deal. 

He refused to leave it seemed. He just sat looking inquisitively at the table, occasionally extending his stare to look at you before returning. How did you two end up alone in this room?

“Are you gonna have a problem with me, Doctor?” You shifted slightly on your feet. A notoriously nervous sign, one he definitely picked up on.

He stared again. It was his mind that kept him rooted in his seat. You were fucking alluring. He’d never met someone so like himself in his line of work. He was being a dick and he knew it but it seemed to be instinctual - some type of precaution, maybe. He didn’t know why you were being so respectful. Doctor. God, he didn’t know if the title had ever sounded so good being directed at him. His frustration only rose as he thought on the issue more. He wasn’t welcoming, it would be so easy to drop the formality, something he knew you knew would get on his nerves. But you didn’t. It didn’t seem like a question of dignity. You didn’t seem like the type to refuse a little pettiness - he sure wasn’t the type either. A thought stirred, an unsafe one he wanted to squash immediately but one he also couldn’t help but lean into. Did you want a power imbalance?

“No.” He stood abruptly, obviously still focused on the thoughts in his head. “Welcome to the team.” He addressed you one last time and then walked out of the room.

You followed shortly after, ready to make home on your couch and be done with being the newbie for the day. Your stress would follow you home, though, as the last thing you heard before you left the building was “Oh my god they’re perfect for each other.”

2.

The first few weeks were always the hardest. This was something you knew and were prepared for but it did nothing to calm your nerves. You’d been on countless missions having worked this job for a while now, but this was an entirely new dynamic to learn. You were an outsider for the first time in four years and it was scary. This case was shaping up to be a rough one, too. A man was having delusions telling him to kill. An extremely rare manifestation of his Schizophrenia, only elevated by the newly acquired aspect of him being an insomniac. 

Spencer hadn’t ceased being headstrong in cases either. Every time you wanted to help he made it his mission to overcompensate in order to snuff you out. On the contrary, he’d warmed up to you a little. It wasn’t major, he barely held any positive feelings toward you, but barely was better than not at all, so you coped. You two had managed a couple small talk conversations outside the battle of one-upping that you were currently losing. You absolutely hated it, but you liked him. You liked him a lot, actually. You don’t know when in the past few days that anger morphed into fondness but it had shifted hard. The casual dominance he exuded drew you in like a porchlight lures a moth. You doubted the opposite proved true for him, and that stung. You came to enjoy the banter, the competition, even if you were always playing the losing hand. It was the only way to get his undivided attention and the feeling of his eyes on you started to follow you home. 

You thought a lot about how you could get the relationship to pivot into something better. You didn’t want to be the girl he bickered with at work. You didn’t know what it was you wanted but you knew that your current fate sounded horrid. He was an ass, though, and he did not make it easy to admit those feelings. Every time he undermined you, you grew more attached and also more angry at yourself for doing so. It was because he’s so much like you, you thought. You knew from the way he interacted with his team that he wasn’t a cold guy, didn’t hold malice towards people for no reason. He needs time. He needs to know you, and God how badly you wanted to know him. 

You had sustained good relations with everyone the past few weeks you’ve been here. Meeting Garcia and Rossi had been a treat - both of them being delightful company. You’d heard them whispering about you and Spencer when they thought you weren’t around. The whole team seems to think that you’re basically fated to be together. It was unnerving how comforting that thought was to you. You hoped they were right. 

Spencer hoped they were right too. He’d heard the same whispers you had, chastising the team when he got the chance as if he didn’t think about you every moment he could. His eyes seemed to naturally land on you if you were around. He watched you walk around the bureau more and more lately, enjoying the gained confidence in your step as you cemented your place in the team. The sway of your hips or the swing of your arms. You mesmerized him no matter what you did. One time he got so caught up in his thoughts of you that Prentiss had to check he wasn’t having a silent panic attack. He clung to his sense of resentment, tried so hard to remind himself of the feelings he had when he first met you - you were beautiful, of course you were - but you were on claimed land and he was anything but eager for you to make home on it. That had faded fast, seeing how kind you were, scrambling to help and earn respect from everyone. The only reason he kept up the act of  “man who wants you gone” was so that he could keep talking to you. Spencer was a genius but he didn’t know how to handle someone like you. He’d been interested in girls before, hell he’d had girlfriends before but it had never felt like this in such little time. Such intense infatuation was crippling for someone who’s brain worked in patterns - this was new ground for him. 

“Everybody suit up. We have Foster’s location and we need to move quickly. He’s going after the source of his rage and we don’t have time to spare.” Hotch came down the stairs two at a time, spurring the team into action. 

“This man is highly dangerous but also highly deluded. The cases I’ve read similar to this say it’s best to speak gently. He’s sick but he can be reasoned with.” Spencer pulls from his memory as he sets his ‘FBI’ vest into place on his chest. 

“No, not this time. This man is too severe, his mind is too far gone. If these hallucinations of his are strong enough for him to touch them it’ll be extremely easy for him to rearrange or imagine your words differently. You need to be loud, direct, and assertive. Speak as little as possible. The quieter you are, the easier it will be for him to change what you’re saying in his head.” You also spoke while putting your vest on. You didn’t carry a weapon - a personal vow of yours, as you were more than classified to - so there were no holsters to fill. The contradictions between the two doctors of the team made everyone hesitate even though they lacked the time to do so.

Spencer looked at you, slightly out of breath from working so quickly. “You’re questioning my memory?” 

“I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor. I’m questioning your sources. There’s a higher risk level if we do what you’re suggesting. Let me do my job.” You made the final adjustments to your attire as you finished speaking. You returned his eye contact for just a beat too long, letting the others rush out of the building while you stood your ground, the two of you begrudgingly following after them a moment later.

You had been assigned a different car than him for the ride over. ‘Thank God’ was the only thing you could think when you saw him heading to the other SUV. After another confrontation - another public one, at that - you weren’t sure you could handle being pressed leg to leg with him in the backseat. Your words were a looping record in his head as he rode towards Foster. They were about to attempt a hostage negotiation with a man seeing people who weren’t there but all he could think about was that fucking word you refused to drop. 

I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor

You had to be doing this on purpose, he thought. He originally believed this had started because you knew stripping him of his beloved title would cause irritation. Now he suspected you knew how badly he wanted his name in your mouth and this was your way of torturing him. ‘It’s working.’ He thought. God was it working. He agreed with his team, you were perfect for him. You had knowledge to match his, kept him on his toes. One time the start of a ramble slipped through his “I don’t like you” façade and he felt his heart speed up at the genuine interest that roused in your eyes. You wanted to know him and he was an idiot for all the shit he was doing. 

He wasn’t surprised when your strategy worked and Ben Foster was taken into custody. You were the one to talk him down, and if you hadn’t already been accepted to the team, he knew then and there that they needed you. You were flawless. He knew you’d been doing this as long as he had and it showed. He pleaded with himself to stay focused, zeroed in on the weight of the gun in his hand to save face. His mind never left you, though, much like his eyes. This was the expertise you spoke of - no wonder they fought hard to get you here. 

“You were excellent in there.” It was just the two of you now. Even in the dull, flashing police lights, you were breathtaking. “Good job.” He said. Then he walked away because he was on the brink of kissing you and didn’t feel like breaking about 18 workplace rules while at the scene of a crime. You wouldn’t have been complaining if he did.

3.

Every time something like this happened it was difficult to remind yourself that not carrying a weapon was a choice you made willingly. You were currently sitting in the back of an open ambulance, about to be hoisted onto a stretcher and driven to the ER for stitches. You’ve been with the BAU for almost 3 months now and have miraculously managed to avoid injury in that time. This had been one of the easier cases. No chases or clues to follow, just a sick man who left a fairly obvious paper trail. You were the speaker on almost all cases. You were in charge of de-escalating a situation, making sure the bomb didn’t blow. You’ve never carried a weapon, always preferring to take the wounds of a job over using a gun to back up your words. You were a psychiatrist, you wanted to make people better, not vilify them. It worked, usually. People did tend to trust you more when you were unarmed. This time, though, it got you stabbed.

It wasn’t a bad injury, the blood had already stopped and was mildly dry by the time Spencer was joining you. Just one more scar to your collection. It was to the side of your quad, missing any artery by miles and just serving as a pain source at this point. A little numbing and some stitches and you’d be right as rain is what the doctor in the ambulance had said. 

“What happened?” He spoke softly to you. There wasn’t a rivalry between you two, not really. The banter hadn’t stopped, but it changed. It was playful and actually fun now. The both of you weren’t obsessed with outdoing the other anymore. Some casual boastfulness and a budding friendship is where you were at with him currently. 

“I got stabbed.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

He exhaled like he couldn’t comprehend the stupidity of your answer. You laughed at that. One enjoyable pastime you’d picked up in the past month was trying to bewilder him. The EMT said he needed to check the rest of your body for injury despite your protest of such a procedure. It was typical and you knew that, but you held onto the fear of your own body that middle school gave you. There was a man you liked here, and the thought of him seeing the bit of stomach that hung outside the waistline of your pants scared you more than you thought it would. You forced yourself to be rational in spite of this. It was Spencer, you wanted to be seen by him. 

“Holy shit.”

You chuckled at that. You forgot that maybe a warning was in order for the amount of scars that littered your stomach.

“Probably should have told you about those.” There were dozens. You amassed a countless amount of scars over the course of your job. Stab wounds, bullet grazes, burn marks. Unsubs, as much as you tried to empathize, were often violent at the end of the day and usually lashed out before they could be helped. 

He was staring - well, gazing more like. Not like someone stares at a car accident on the freeway but instead how someone stares at the moon - awe. He was in awe of you. Your strength, your courage, the fact that you went through all these individual events and still chose not to arm yourself. Some of these were in places that could have been fatal, and he thanked whatever entity may be listening that you persevered, begged them to continue that streak. He crashed hard into the desire to touch you, to run his hands over what little of your past he could see. He wondered if you would let him. If you’d fit into his palms the way he thought you would - if that was something you even wanted. The EMT was gone by now, having moved to the passenger seat for the ride to the hospital. 

“Could I - " He hesitated for a moment, this was definitely the wrong question to ask. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes glazed over slightly. Jesus. You felt your lips part a little.

“You want to?” Genuine surprise. You didn’t think you looked particularly desirable in your current state. He wanted to touch your fucking scars. Who does he think he is?

“Please.” He was looking at you in a way you hadn’t seen before. His eyes were glazed over too. You held his eyes as you nodded. The heat was so stifling that you laughed just a little at the tension.

“Fucking hell, Spence.”

Blood shot to his ears when you said his name. It had been well worth the wait to hear you say it like that - breathy and confused and so fucking pretty that he wondered how he ever lived before you said it. 

“Will you tell me about them?” He was breathy too, but he wouldn’t have you here, not like this. He just needed to feel you. 

“I’ll tell you anything you want, Doc.”

His hands were warm. It wouldn’t be the last time you felt them.

[thebadboyfanclub]

You Will Pay (Harwin x Reader)

I wanted to write something a little more angry, as you guys know by now I love creating mad women and just portraying the emotions as borderline psychotic, so I hope you guys love this as much. Also please leave a comment it really helps me

The books and the maesters had very descriptive stories about the war of dragons, sisters, and brothers who went to war and detailed tales of the members and which side they resided with.

One particular story that a lot seemed to gloss over so carelessly was one of the most complicated ones, (y/n) Velaryon, the older sister of Laenor and Laena Velaryon, a comely girl and a fierce dragon rider as her egg hatched while she was in her cradle.

The maesters and fools describe her as a vicious woman, a power-hungry lady that cared for nothing but herself, but when had the maesters ever taken the time to look past their nose?

Aegon had bestowed her the title of the king's hand which caused a riot amongst the council, to force your grandsire to step down from his post, and for a woman at that, it was more than something Lord Otto could stomach, still (y/n) thrived as she meticulously plotted her vengeance against Rhaenyra.

“She took everything from me, my dignity, my love, my life, it is time for Rhaenyra to pay her debt to me”

She had confessed to Dowager Queen Alicent and her father whilst she sat next to Vaemond, urging her uncle to petition against Lucerys, some even wholeheartedly believe the Lady had gone rogue after she saw her uncle's head cut off, though she had to admit that being witness to her uncle calling Lucerys a bastard and breathing life to the shameful past (y/n)s late husband had forced her to a darker path.

How convenient would that have been? To blame the unquenchable thirst for revenge on that, no, her sulking ran deeper than that, like a venom slowly releasing droplets on (y/n) 's heart.

Despite it all (y/n) had proved to be more detail-oriented than any man, she had foreseen a plethora of moves from the blacks' side, (y/n) knew her father's mind and her mother's heart like the back of her hand, hiding in the shadows and observing for most of her adolescence was now (y/n)s strongest trait.

Seastar and (y/n) flew to the skies in numerous battles, (y/n) had been forced to face her mother, to go against her in battle whilst Seastar burned countless of Corlys’s ships, (y/n) watched her mother fall from the sky and inevitably to her death, she had wrapped her mother's body in cloth and send it back to her father in dragonstone, it was then that Corlys decided to join the green side, (y/n) was the only family he had left, he could not bare to lose her.

There was a time that (y/n) was not bitter, she was perceived to be as sweet as the fruit from the lands, back at a time when she wore a wonderful dress and was wed to Harwin strong, a glowing bride who smiled from ear to ear at her beloved lord husband, the couple danced the night away after the ceremony and the maids would gushed over their marriage.

(Y/n) gave birth to 5 children, 3 girls, and 2 boys, all of them inherited a wild mixture of their mother's and father's hair, albeit the common trait amongst them was their mother's eyes, a deep violet color that pierced through souls, the children were given devoted love and attention by both parents, Harwin had been an excellent example of a father figure to all of them, he never shied away from bouncing his youngest while the others ran around like a tornado.

He had even insisted on being there for all of their births, and as the first cry of each of them would be heard, Harwin would brush away the strands of hair from (y/n) 's sweaty face, plant a loving kiss on her forehead and then on her hand, smiling sheepishly she would nod at him basking the feeling of accomplishment and euphoria that a newborn would bring as it would curl on her arms.

One would think 5 children would be enough of a proof that there was at the very least attraction between the couple, though life has never been proven to go by a book.

“Laenor”

(Y/n) breathed out as she fell in her brother's arms in desperation, the death of their sister hit them hard and the macabre nature of her ceremony was similar to adding salt to an open wound, Laenor held her tight as he too suffered the pain of his twin being ripped out of life far too soon.

“Let us go for a walk, I wish to speak with you”

“Of course, I too yearn to get away from all the false empathy”

She hissed from between her teeth as the siblings held on to one another and step by step the ever-exhausting role of whatever title they carried washed away from the sounds of the ocean.

“As the eldest, I worry about you, brother”

“As the youngest, I worry for you, you remember her first breath, and now you are here as she took her last”

“It is not how nature intended, I was the one that had to cross over first, I guess Laena always had a Niche for sudden disappearances”

Laenor only scoffed, (y/n) was a woman who wore her heart on her sleeve for most of her life, still Laenor could detect that the burdens she carried were heavy, it was forcing her to bend her ever-defiant backbone and suffer in silence as the priding eyes of the court stood by her side, judging any beat of sweat or a wrong bat of an eyelash.

“Laena never cared for what nature intended nor any of the ton thought, she was a young maiden when she rode her dragon with him”

“I wanted to kill her, she was never dim-witted, quite the contrary I like to believe, why did she force herself to even breathe behind the shadow of… her?”

“I would venture to ask the same from you?”

“Of me?”

She was taken aback by the question, quite frankly she could not fathom what could Laenor possibly have intended by it. Puzzled she tilted her head to the side as her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes never leaving his as Laenor somewhat hunched, he looked uncomfortable and defeated.

“Come on (y/n) it is just me”

“I do not follow”

“You cannot point your finger at Laena when you suffer the same fate”

“Suffer? Have you been drinking your grief away?”

(Y/n) was evidently annoyed by Laenors riddles, naturally her mind went to just drunken sentences, Laenor shifted on his feet as he scoffed at her, his arrogance slowly burned out as he detected that (y/n) kept sturdy with her act.

“You… do not know?”

“Know what?”

“About Harwin”

“For the love of everything holy spit it out”

“Harwin is fucking Rhaenyra!”

Laenor exclaimed as fast as his tongue allowed, (y/n) 's blood ran cold at a drop of a hat, her eyes widened as her breath halted right at her lungs, and all of a sudden the wind felt like pricks piercing her skin, then as Laenor waited for the curses and any type of reaction he was shocked to see (y/n) start from a soft giggle to a full-on belly laugh.

“(Y/n), sister”

Laenor went to wrap his arms around her but (y/n) dodged it away, continuing to laugh when her hands went to her knees, her body shook from the snickering and tears started to look in her eyes, escaping fast making her eyesight blurry and the draws of breath harder by the second.

“Please (y/n) say something”

“This is… perfect”

She managed to spit out in between her shrieks of laughter, Laenor took a step back out of fear as (y/n) hiccuped, the only way to describe this was that (y/n) was walking on a tight tightrope in between sadness and insanity, the anger began to coil on her insides as the sudden sensation of pain clawed on her heart. (Y/n) fell to her knees whilst tears made her eyesight blurry, Laenor felt helpless against her, as guilt was written on his face he worried if he had made the right choice, he had let her in the bliss of ignorance for far too long.

“I must, I must go”

“Where will you go?”

“To hell, most likely, but for now I will go to my lord husband, if you can call him that”

She mumbled mostly to herself as she struggled to get up, stumbling from time to time as she walked back to their chamber, some that happened upon her described the sight as a drunken pale ghost, a demeanor that was highest unexpected of her, she could never recall how she had mastered to walk back, she had guessed that the force of habit or the desperate urge for privacy forced her legs to move one after the other and to the door that with the last ounce of power she managed to push.

Her legs had given up as the door closed by itself and (y/n) fell on the floor, she merely switched sides so she could face the ceiling and waited for Harwin, she could have been waiting for hours but to her, the thoughts had wrapped their cloak around the aspect of time, tears had ran dry and her mouth was as dry as sand yet she refused to move.

Harwin had almost stumbled over her when he walked in, it took him a second to register what was happening, his lady wife laying on the floor consciously yet the air felt like something had happened, the obvious guess was the grief overcame her.

“My dear, do you need help?”

“Don’t touch me”

“(Y/n)-“

“How long?”

“Pardon?”

“How… long?”

Her voice was low yet a hint of poison dripped out of her dry lips, as her throat begged for water all she was concerned about was how the ceiling felt like it would clash on her, the part that scared her was that she secretly hoped it did but only if that meant Harwin would go down with her.

“What has happened?”

“That is supposed to be my question, what happened that made you weak in Rhaenyras arms?”

Harwin only blinked, his mouth slightly agape as he was caught off guard by the question and confrontation, he had played cat and mouse with her for years and now the cat had seemed to just give up after she figured out that a mouse was hiding from her.

“(Y/n)-“

Harwin made the mistake of taking a step closer to her, out of impulse (y/n) used her foot to trip him resulting in him falling next to her, Harwin could not react as fast as (y/n) 's blood thrust and he had only a mere second to stop her from landing the dagger that she had so comically gifted him from stabbing him, the loud grunt was heard all around the room when she mounted him and attempted to land the dagger on his chest.

“I will fucking kill you”

“Stop!”

“I will watch as you tucking die you filthy excuse of a man! Let me do this”

Her eyes were wide and unfocused, she spat all over him as she threatened him with her teeth gritting against each other, Harwin had to put actual pressure on her hand and hurt her as she yelled out of pain and let the dagger off her tight grip, however (y/n) was not ready to give up the fight, her hands found his neck and tighten around him as much as he could.

“I will do it to you, to her, to your bastards, I gave you everything! This is how you choose to repay me? You are a demon!”

Harwin's airway was severely restricted, it was the first time that he feared his lady wife, not only was he scared of her taking his life, but the scariest part was as Harwin withered away (y/n) seemed to have a ghost of a smile and a hint of satisfaction in her eyes.

“You’re killing me” he managed to get out

“Good”

It sounded almost like a moan the way she spoke, (y/n) couldn’t even have the decency of hiding how much joy this brought her.

Harwin years of training went into defense and he pushed her off with so much might that (y/n) fell back on the floor with her back. Coughs escaped her and so did Harwin as they gasped for air, (y/n)/ back was on fire but nothing could match the shame and anger that shimmered in her heart

“You sick bastard”

She yelled frantically as she dragged herself with her elbows a few inches away before her arms gave out on her and collapsed back on the floor with coughs shaking her.

Such a tragic scene, a couple that had burned bright for all of the seven kingdoms to watch was now inflicting torture on one another, emotional, physical, one could argue generational given the fact that (y/n) could not stand the idea of her children being eclipsed by Rhaenyras bastards.

Both of them gasping for air on the floor as (y/n) supported herself with her arms to gain some distance from the wooden floor, all one could hear was their panting and the groans in between out of agony and pain, the sight of them would bring pity on both of them, as a couple that once found comfort in each other now brought them a breath away from death.

“This is not the way to discuss this”

“I had given you my life, I tore myself to give you children, a wife anyone would envy, a life full of whatever you wished and what did you do?”

“You know I love you”

The only response (y/n) considered to be right was a swift kick at his leg causing him to flinch and hiss in pain, Harwin had remained motionless on the floor as (y/n) struggled to raise herself and stand up, she had made it about halfway and was up on her knees when a pain as sharp Valyrian steel sliced her across her stomach.

“I will never forgive you for this”

“(Y/n)”

he called for her as sweet as he always did, a few hours ago she would have melted with a happy smile at the sound of him calling her name.

“Get out! OUT!”

She was crying a screaming at him, spit escaping her mouth, Harwin gazed at her with guilt written all over him, (y/n) had endured the worst, scenarios that would make anyone break and yet she had managed to stand strong, all for him to blow it down like a withering deck of cardamom

Harwin got up and shamefully walked away from her, leaving her to cry, what he did not know was that (y/n) was not just grieving their marriage, she was grieving a child, blood was trickling down her leg and the pain only worsened by the moment, she was so excited to call the babe Laena, after her late sister and now she lost that chance as well.

She did not want to tell him yet, maybe inside her, she knew it would not last, but how could Mother be so cruel to her? Take away the last offspring of her love that now was sniffed out like a candle in the wind, the very last memory of the blissful marriage she thought she had.

(Y/n) placed her hands on her stomach as she wept, images of them together kept on clouding her mind and judgment, one that persisted was the day they welcomed their first child.

(Y/n) had suffered at the hands of the maesters, men that could not fathom the idea of a woman knowing better than them even though it was her that split into two pieces to bring a son into the world.

Harwin hastily had burst through the doors at the first sound of that marvelous cry the babe had managed to spit out and fill the room with sighs of relief.

“Praise the Gods, you have a son”

“Out of my way”

Harwin had mumbled before he shoved away the maester making his heavy metal chain click against its charms before he kneeled before (y/n). She was sweaty though her skin was cold, her eyes could not seem to focus and moved at glacial speed, she had managed to make her thighs touch as she had probably collapsed after the labor, and her calves were one in the east and the other in the west.

“My beautiful, sweet (y/n)”

“Harwin, stay”

“Of course, you did so well”

“I’m tired”

Her voice was barely above a whisper and her heavy breathing made it harder for him to listen to her words, as a sign of comfort Harwin placed his hand on the top of her head and started to pet her ever so softly, a sheepish smile appeared on her lips, after such intense act his caress brought her such security that the pain seemed to leave her body.

“Is he alright?”

“Healthy and kicking my lady, would you like to hold him?”

“No, I can’t, Harwin”

She begged, (y/n) could not even get out of bed for days, her body was wounded severely and all she seemed to want to do was sleep, Harwin would often jest that (y/n) only did it to make up for the nights her belly kept her awake, he had stayed by her side, holding their son, making sure she sees him and even helped her to hold him once she had regained her strength.

Now look at them, Harwin kneeling behind the door of the bed chamber as she yelled and cried, (y/n) was pushed into madness, she plunged herself deeper in the sea of chaos and salt of unfairness ached the scratches on her heart, a babe ripped away from her too soon and her lord husband stripped from the shinning armor of honor.

“You will pay! All of you will pay!”

Requests are open!

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Some househusband things Simon would do

This, 100% he would: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8W4kuC2/

Give the best hugs! He does that before you leave for work and after you come back

He isn’t the one to make a lot of noise and be clumsy so your house would be PEACEFUL AF. And im sure he also likes his things clean. So your house is super neat and organized. Those clean girls can NEVER compete.

Like the couch is still white, sink is clean, laundry did, carpets vacuumed🥰

There are somethings he can’t do. Like he. just. can’t. Doesn’t get it. Doesn’t understand. Like sewing. With a machine maybe he can, but his fingers are too big and calloused to hold a tiny needle :(

Can’t really make friends with the neighbors. He doesn’t do too much small talk and his stature scares the carp out of them.

Now the things he CAN do tho👀

Fix and build a bunch of stuff. With sniper precision and accuracy. You end up saving a lot of $ because of him.

Honestly if you wanted to expand your house he will do it for you. Hes getting bored at home anyways.

“Honey i kind of liked it when the marbles are white :(“

“No issues lovie i fix👍🏻😊”

Paint ur nails. With sniper precision. The mans hands be standing on business lol

Honestly he saves up a lot of ‘allowance $’. I don’t think hes the type to spend recklessly. He saves up the $ u give him and puts it in the investments or 401. Sure he will take some to buy things he likes but whatever is left he saves

Omg he for sure will warm up your car during winter. Can’t let his bread winner wifey get a cold .

If its raining or the weather is bad, he would rather drive you to work and pick u up later.

If wifey works long hrs he will pack extra food and keep a spare set of scrubs in her car

Omggggg lemme tell you if he drops you off at the hospital and walks you in the nurses would be STARRING at this hunk of a man👀. Hes eye candy for the entire unit. Be prepared for gossip to spread like wild fire and all of a sudden Linda the cardiologist who you have never worked with is having a conversation about your pretty husband

“Hey can your husband do the chest compressions for us 👀”

“Can we borrow your husband for this code grey?”

Lol 😂

🪿

Time to add these delightful headcanons to the House Husband! Simon Cinematic Universe, my Lovely ! Thank you kindly for sharing your imagination with us, it sets my soul aglow to see you possess such enthusiasm for our beloved House Husband! Simon, my dear 🪿 <3

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Any Hc's for being in love with Rook Hunt?

Headcanon/s for being in love with Rook Hunt ➽─────────❥

Genre: Fluff Pairing: Rook Hunt x Gn Reader

A/n: Rook Hunt! The Epitome of a green flag man! Hehe yes, I do have some headcanons for being in love with him! Anon you got good taste, I love the guy <3. I hope you like this one! Although I'm not sure If I did Rook Hunt justice, however, I still hope that It's not OOC, the way he portrays beauty sometimes makes me wanna overanalyze him to the point that I may mischaracterize him sometimes, which is my pet peeve, so I'm sorry If it's a bit OOC, hopefully not.

Credits: The design was made by me in Canva and the art that was used is all from the Official Twisted Wonderland Cards.

Warning: Bad French (I apologize, I only googled some of the french words here, If I was wrong on some, feel free to comment about it, I will fix it immediately, thank you!)

Masterlist

➽─────────❥

❥ You should be prepared to gain plenty of love letters from him whenever you two aren’t together, for example you’re busy with studying or working, expect a beautiful rose on your table with a letter attached, you won’t even notice anyone come in your bedroom, such a sly man he is. That letter would consist of him showering you with praise and telling you to not overwork yourself. 

❥ Now, you’d probably be wondering why he wasn’t with you in that room, he was! He watched you for a while you were hyper-focused on your task, he found your focus quite ethereal, such a beauty you are when you put your mind into something. He wanted to smother you with his hugs, but he’s not going to break your focus like that, so he ended up leaving the room (By leaving the room, he’s just watching you from outside the door)

❥ People often say that when you fall for Rook Hunt, be prepared to be suffocated by his love, while I can see why, I feel like his love wouldn’t be suffocating or way too much, I’d compare it to water, flowing to one direction and it’s on you, he’d guide you, cherish you and love you as gently as a river. He isn’t someone who doesn’t see love as a metaphor for flowers, if you take care of them properly, they’ll bloom, if you bombard them with nutrients, they die. He’d understand if you want him to chill for a bit, he’d tone down his affections if you hated it, but if you didn’t and you end up loving him with the same vigor, he’d fall for you further. 

❥ In a relationship, he’s as secure as he can be, he wouldn’t jump in a relationship if he wasn’t sure about you, he’s a hunter, someone who has keen senses, and when he first saw you, he saw the beauty of your soul, the longer he’s around you the more you showed him how exceptional you are, that’s where he became sure that you were for him.

 

❥ He doesn’t get jealous very easily, after all, you’re someone who attracts attention left and right, someone who shines brightly in his eyes, he’s happy that he isn’t the only one who notices your charm. Although, sometimes, when someone crosses a line and touches you in a way that bothers him, he’s fast to swoop in, smoothly getting you out of that situation, once you two are out of sight, he’d be placing your hand on his cheek while you look up to him, confused why he suddenly just dragged you away from all those people, you’d see it, his eyes conveying a hint of sadness while he kisses your hand. “Mi amour does this side of me dishearten you?” and for a moment it’s like he’s showing you a different side of himself, a vulnerable one.

❥ There are plenty of times he catches himself gazing on you often, and he indulges himself in such delicacies, you are his beloved after all, so if you catch him staring at you, expect to be given that signature smile he always has (although now you probably wonder why his smile never changed before you two became a thing)

❥ Even before you started dating, he already knew most of what you liked and disliked, and you can say he also knew what your type was, and he was pleasantly surprised when you mentioned him as your type during your lunchtime chats with your friends. He’s someone who cherishes beauty and sees it in others, he’s an expectator of beauty itself, yet here you are, describing him as if he’s a man of your dreams. One can say he had his heart fluttering due to it. 

❥ Hearing about your “confession”; he’d be the type to bring his attention often to you now as if his attention wasn’t fixated on you before, he shows it more boldly now, finally understanding why you were often blushing around him. He did have an idea, but he could never act upon speculation without proof! 

❥ If you were the first to confess to him, he’d have that gleeful smile on his face before lifting your chin and making you look up into his gaze, “ Ma beauté, I’ve been waiting for you to express your love to me, I accept it wholeheartedly,” He’d whisper that to you before pulling you closer, leaning closer to your lips, “May I kiss you?”, If you’d graciously let him kiss you, he’d die a happy man. 

❥ But, if he’s the one that confesses, you wouldn’t expect it to be as casual as it gets, you see Rook is the type of guy that just “feels”, if you get my gist, you two could be playing charades in the living room; or having a picnic outside of ramshackle, just the two of you, and when the sun sets and the gorgeous scenery presents itself, you looking absolutely divine with the soft glow of the sun hitting your face, you looking relaxed and safe with him. 

❥ His heart would start beating fast, with his hand automatically pushing away the strands of hair off your face as the wind gushes, if you looked at him while he fixes your hair, you’d see a rare blush reaching up to his ears. 

❥ “You look manifique, ma chère amie/mon cher ami” He slides his hand from your cheek to your hand, giving it a gentle rub with his thumb. “If I were to give my life to pursue you for eternity, would you accept?” 

❥ At first, you probably got confused about what he was implying, who confesses like that anyway, he’d let you think about it till you finally understood that as a hunter, he plans to “pursue” you. Is that a confession? 

❥ Once you finally understood what he meant, in which he had been keeping an eye on you, so he’d know when you do understand it, he’d be popping out of nowhere, hand on your waist as he holds you like you were delicate. 

❥ “What’s your answer? Mon amour?”

Word Count: 1,050

[asmolfolk]

Hi S. Can I request hc for Hades (RoR) and fem s/o? S/o is having a bad day and Hades comforts her intimately? 18+ and fluff please. Have a good day/night!

After a long time, guess who is back again? I finally finish my studies and I'm just chilling right now. So, as I'm in a Hazbin Hotel, HSR, Wuthering Waves and ZZZ brainrot And, I'm trying to get back at my feet for writing - if this isn't good is because of that :< (Also if any of you noticed that I didn't put dialogues with the S/O, it's mostly for her to also represent people with disabilities that makes them rely on sign language and everything <3) Also! If anyone is interested in Hazbin Hotel AU's, I have an > alternative Account < for drawings [what will include my au's <3] and also, I will probably start posting some X reader and long fanfics in my AO3 account. Also, I post some arts in my Twitter <3 Click on the pink text to go to the links <3 —— —͙ – -✰ Fandom: Record of Ragnarok / Shuumatsu no ValkyrieCharacters: Hades. Warnings: Smut! —— —͙ – -✰

Hades x S/O: Feelings.

Hades is a simple man: The world could BURN and he wouldn't bait an eye, he doesn't care about humans, about other gods - except for his beloved, Persephone and his Brother. You and Persephone are the only ones who would make Hades go against his brother, against everything he worked so hard to maintain. Hades has no limitation when the topic were the two of you. Even if he wasn't in a romantic relationship with Persephone, this would be the same. You, bless your soul, already knew about his completely devotion - First of all, he never tried to hide it. Anubis, Thanatos and other gods associated with death noticed his demanour since the beginning. [And Thanatos is oblivious as fish swimming in the sea.] Not only that, but also: Loki RUINED your outfit, Hermes had to get you to the underworld - you were so close to breaking down in front of Loki...

This whole event was too much for you, especially because Hermes wouldn't let you interact with him. You had to go to Hades's room and already saw him, he was just with his pant while he seemed to be a bit... Tired, but, he just needed to look at you to have a smile.

"My beloved... What a pleasure seeing you" He looked at you and got closer, taking your hand after seeing the ruined outfit and the dirt, he was immediately pissed "What happened? Who did this to you?"

You couldn't bring yourself to answer him properly, your words were left to nothing as you sobbed, the gibberish you were saying didn't make him understand what was happening, but he knew that you needed a hug... And a bath.

"Come on, my beautiful wife... Let's take a bath"

Hades would spend his whole time just bathing you, hearing you spill your heart to him, telling him about everything that has gone wrong... And he would tell you how amazing you were, how strong you were and to praise you as you continued your story. Only when you were finished telling him everything, he would start to clean you up, he would dare to pick a cloth for you, he would just carry you - again - to his room and lay you down to the bed.

"My wife... Would you like me to sing you praises?" He always said that before going at you... And, as anyone would say. You just nodded. He was imediately, holding your thighs, letting space for him to be in between them "If you want to stop, just say 'Stop', okay? I wouldn't want to overwhelm you." He was always sweet, he always putted your own pleasure as his top priority... He didn't care if he didn't have a shot, if he didn't touch himself... He could be satisfied with just making you feel pleasure.

He started as always, kissing your clit as one of his hand started to do circles through your entrance until he started to push his fingers in and out, he was relief at hearing your moans and pleads to be faster. He just gave anything that you asked him, he started sucking your clit as his fingers started to get faster. As a reflect, you imprisioned his face against your thighs, you felt like you could suffocate him - until you remembered that gods don't need to breath. Hades didn't even cared with how much your legs trembled as he guided you to a much deserved orgasm.

He drinked it, drinked and licked anything left. He - as always smiling and looking at you with pride and love - would just take of his gloves and touch your face. "Do you feel better, my love?" After losing your senses for a second or so, you could only rely on your lips reading to tell him Yes. He would lay at your side, holding your waist and softly caressing your cheeks. "You can sleep if you want to, my beloved wife... I will wait for you."

The day was too much for you... But at least, you would sleep peacefully with your husband at your side, hugging you as if you were close to disapear.

—— —͙ – -✰ The next posts will be: OC x Reader, ROR x Reader and Hazbin Hotel x Reader. Stay tunned <3 [Hazbin Hotel will include Oc's, but they are just there for plot - Since it will be a long fic.]

[cleverstudentcheesecake]

Theory regarding the "System"

So I want all of you to listen really carefully.

I posted about my theory of Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan being the same person just from different timelines on Tumblr. One of the user @6gmrnv3hin reblogged my post with their theory that the System is actually Bing-ge.

Okay, now hold on and let me clarify it.

It's a theory relating to time paradox and the multiverse of the SVSSS and PIDW universes.

Their theory is that after Bing-ge left the SVSSS universe, he went onto search for his own kind Shizun. He found the soul of Shen Jiu in Shen Yuan in a different timeline. So Bing-ge split his soul into 2 parts. One part become the superior entity "System" and the other part became our beloved Bing-mei creating the new timeline of SVSSS.

Now here comes the missing puzzle piece which I was finally able to piece out from all these.

Some people theorise that Airplane actually got visions of the PIDW world and hence wrote the story.

This could be the part of the paradox where Airplane wrote the story because the PIDW universe actually existed and the PIDW universe existed because Airplane wrote about it.

It could be the "System"(Bing-ge) orchestrated everything to give himself a happy ending. He planned the transmigration of Shen Jiu's soul in the form of Shen Yuan that has not yet been corrupted by trauma in the modern universe into the SVSSS universe.

As another of the user @optimisticmosquito said that the "System" did not let Shen Yuan transmigrate into the novel as a child because there was a high chance he would have got tainted by all the trauma and turn out to be like Shen Jiu. Hence, he transmigrated into the body of adult, well-acomplished Shen Qingqui. As the spoilt second generation rich kid, Shen Yuan never had to go through the struggles that Shen Jiu of the original timeline went through. This lead Shen Yuan to be much kinder and a much better teacher. Shen Yuan is everything Shen Jiu could never have been due to all the trauma shackling him.

The "System" (Bing-ge) compelled Shen Yuan to fix the mistakes of the PIDW universe and prevent the current SVSSS universe from getting destroyed by the hands of Binghe (Yes, I consider the PIDW universe to be a destroyed universe because of all the mess). This way both Shen Jiu and Bing-ge ended up atoning for the sins they committed in the original timeline.

This would clarify some of the doubts regarding why Bing-ge never returned to disturb the life of Bingqui when he had not 1 but 2 reality cutting swords. Sir was busy creating a completely different timeline.

This would further clarify why the "System" was hell bent on Bingmei finding Xin Mo because Bingge in future would require 2 reality cutting swords to create a new timeline.

It would also clarify the reason why the "System" was so pushy with the "small scenario pushers" and was so closely influenced by Binghe's moods. It did not even interfere when Xin Mo was broken and taken by Bing-ge.

This is because Binghe no longer required Xin Mo. In the SVSSS universe he finally has all the happiness he ever wanted. He no longer felt the need to conquer the 3 realms just to feel a tiny bit of satisfaction with his life. He no longer needed series of blood baths and hundreds of wives to feel validated. He discovered the truth about his birth parents and his father is still alive. The Can Qiong Sect is still intact and the human and demon realms haven't been merged. Even Mobei Jun is no longer alone and miserable in the SVSSS universe.

Bing-ge finally was successful in attaining his happiness in the form of Bing-mei and the "System".

The paradox is that the SVSSS universe existed because Bingge by mistake stumbled upon the SVSSS universe where he found about his kind Shizun and the kind Shizun exists in the SVSSS universe because Bing-ge of the future split himself into 2 and went onto create the SVSSS universe as the "System".

I hope I was able to clarify my thoughts and theories.

You can go check out my Tumblr post here:

[madame-fear]

Hey babe, I've seen that you write beautifully, I love your stories with Jace and Luke. Could I ask you to write something for me? I asked for this a while ago, but I need more. Headcanons with fluff or nsfw, fanfic, whatever you wish. But I would love to be that aunty milf, lol. Thank you very much for considering it!

a/n : hellooo lovelie !! yes ofc 🥰 so i made headcanons about this bc i thought it'd be fit, and i separated the sfw and nsfw part. Hope you enoy this, luv !! <3 and may the Seven have mercy on my sinful soul 💪🥲

pairing : jacaerys velaryon x aunt!targaryen!reader genre : starts with some fluff, ends with slightly mature content.

WARNING // incest content, him having sexual thoughts about you (also trying to hint his needs to you), and longer than expected.

— SFW —

• Ever since the day he was born, it was always too obvious that he had a tendency to favour you.

• This ^ was mostly notorious by the time he was still a child. Always following you around like a lost puppy, going to you for comfort, hugging you/showing you affection, and trying to impress you when he trained with his younger brother.

• Everyone around you who noticed it just laughed it off, saying that the reason he was like that with you was because you were his favourite relative. When in fact, a small puppy crush was slowly growing on him for you.

• Of course, you were one of the many who thought that he simply had a favourite relative, and that was: his aunt, his mother's young sister... you.

• You bragged about it in a playful way, saying you felt flattered that the heir to the Throne and future King favoured you. Right after that, you always ruffled his hair and gave him a peck on top of his head... and his heart would flutter with more love than he already has for you.

• This was just a mere, innocent baby crush... at first, because no one knew his feelings will remain in there with him, for the rest of his life. And they would only mature and grow throughout the years, along with him.

• In his mid-adolescence years, the crush he had on his aunt when he was a young boy still remained there, and had never left. It was rather hard for him, though; knowing both of you would be eventually betrothed, and he absolutely despised the idea of you being with another man.

• Expect to catch him glancing you all the time. No matter where you are, he'll always be eyeing you. You passed this as him being overprotective, but in reality, he's daydreaming about you.

• In his mind, he feels guilty about crushing on his aunt, but at the same time, he couldn't care less.

• Whenever he sees another man making you laugh and blush, his jaw would literally clench. And of course, he has to show to the other said man that there was already someone with eyes only for you... and he'd do it by interrupting you in the middle of the laughter and conversation, and by asking for your hand so he can take you dancing.

• He's your beloved nephew! So why would you say no? And of course, you always end accepting his hand, and going with him. Which earns the other man the biggest shit eatin grin from Jace ever.

• Praises and talks good about you constantly – and whenever someone talks about something with him, he always ends up talking or mentioning you. Which surprisingly enough, that's not enough for his family or relatives to realise about his hard crushing on you.

• Much like in his younger child years, he would still be willing to impress you always. Mostly by showing you how well he can talk to you in High Valyrian (slightly fails sometimes) and also, he would still try to impress you with sword training.

• To know that you are there eyeing and cheering for him would boost his ego. That's his reward for being so perfect at training, and now yearns for your approval all the time.

• Will also brag a bit about his skills with you, but only because he LIVES for your praising. Literally has heart eyes for you, and won't doubt in proving you it even if you're still oblivious.

— NSFW —

• As I said earlier: despite his feelings for you still remaining there since his childhood, his way of thinking about you had grown and matured, just like he had.

• Jace would slowly begin seeing and noticing you in a "different way", as in: noticing the way your dresses tightened around your waist, would occasionally stare your chest, and he would find himself having inappropiate thoughts at night while he's trying to sleep.

• During and after those inappropiate thoughts about how sweet it would be to feel you from the inside, and how you'd moan loudly or him, he'd feel a bit guilty about it... but as I said earlier, he wouldn't care; all he wants, is you.

• I believe he would try to get touchy with you, or would literally do anything to spend more time with you (especially alone).

• For example: he would literally go to your chamber late at night with the excuse that 'he simply wanted to talk with you about something' (whatever stupid topic comes to his mind) and would offer himself to help you out if he sees you're struggling with taking of your jewellery, or dress.

• Jace likes helping you to take off your jewellery, but he prefers to help you undress, and hand you your nightgown. Obviously, you don't think much about it, because you simply think of it as a gentle nephew who helps his beloved auntie to change into her sleeping clothing.

• You couldn't deny, though, that you enjoyed his company more than you should.

• Whenever he goes and helps you out with something (like what I just mentioned, for example. ESPECIALLY what I just mentioned), he would always use those memories to create scenarios that eventually lead to something sexual.

• His audacious self would even try to hint his dirty needs to you. For example, when taking off your necklace/untying the laces of your dress, or even teaching you how to take hold of a sword, since he has to be right behind of you, he would literally hold you tightly against him so you can feel how hard he gets around you.

• You're not dumb. You can feel it poking against your body, but you won't say anything about it, and rather focus on whatever thing the two of you are doing.

• His hands would be a bit touchy with you, as well. He would love to have you sitting by his side during dinner, only so his hand can rest against your thigh or knee under the table.

• If you do the same thing of placing your hand on his thigh under the table... he would be overwhelmed with the reddest blushing ever, and would try to cross his legs as to hide his hard.

• Would also constantly ask you for advice regarding relationships, and especially, sexual relationships. Why? Just because he loves hearing you talk about the topic, and loves how gentle you are when talking about it.

• Honestly, the idea of him being so unexperienced at it and you knowing more about the topic turns him on more than it should. Even if he hates knowing that you already had a sexual experience of your own, he loves to hear you tell him what a lady likes and dislikes in bed... especially, what you like and don't like.

• Of course, sometimes, the guilt of the thought about crossing your boundaries overwhelms him, and would try to do his best to keep his soft gentleman nature, and would try not to make you feel uncomfortable with the way he acts (even though you really don't feel uncomfortable).

• But overall, even if he's insecure whether you feel the same way about him or not, deep down inside, he knows you do, or at least, that you don't mind the way he acts around you.

• And also, having caught you staring back at him sometimes, placing his hand on his thigh, and allowing him to tightly press himself against your body... he knows you know about his crush, and he can't help but have a glint of hope at the idea that you might crush back on him, but simply say nothing regarding it.

• Jace can't help but think, you'd make a fine Westerosi Queen once he's finally King.

[teyamsgrl]

Okey u said request angst so here I am! I’ve been non-stop thinking abt the idea that Neteyam left his love behind when the Sullys left for Awa’atlu. So what I’m thinking is he promises her that he’ll return and she waits and hopes, and hopes and waits and one day he appears to her when she visits the spirit tree and it’s kinda fluffy for a minute but then it sinks in that he’s never coming back to her </3

THIS SHATTERED MY HEART WTF 😭 I LEGIT CRIED WHILE WRITING THIS OH MY GAWWWWD

this is also gonna be more of a blurb style in the way of length

when will i see you again? ✧ neteyam

°˖➴ warnings: fem omatikaya reader, neteyam death mentions, to sum it up: sad 🫠 - yawne: beloved

it had been almost 7 months since your mate had left for awa'atlu with his family. it had been hard without him, you wanted to go with them desperately but it was something that was much easier said than done. neteyam's last words to you ring through your head each day that passes, "i promise, yawne, i will be back before you know it to come visit. i promise i will be with you again soon". you couldn't help but wonder what was happening in awa'atlu, you figured it would maybe be 2-3 months before neteyam returned for a visit, but 7 was pushing what you had assumed.

having been down in the dumps all day, you decided a visit to the tree of souls would be a good way to unwind and bring you some comfort. upon settling under the tree you grabbed your queue, examining the tendrils as they began to attach themselves to a section of the tree. your eyes flutter shut at the connection, a sigh falling from your lips.

once connected, you spot neteyam who is sitting on a rock beside a stream within the forest. you smile as you remember that this is where you first met, and he was sitting on that exact rock. your heart swells when a grin creeps onto his face, teeth showing and eyes bright. "neteyam!" you say excitedly... before it hits you. there is only one way that neteyam would be visiting you through the tree of souls; if he was dead. you begin to hyperventilate, tears pouring from your eyes which neteyam always said were sparkling.

"this- this can't be real, no no no!" you cry, hands reaching for the neteyam in your vision. "i'm sorry, yawne. this is the only way i can visit now. i'm sorry i didn't get to give you a proper goodbye before i went with eywa..." he steps closer, grabbing your hands tightly in his own. it is as though you can truly feel him, rough and large hands holding your soft and small ones. you sob more at this action, body shaking from your cries. "no neteyam, no you aren't dead no! no this isn't- no you aren't dead!" you blubber out the words while gazing at his face through your teary eyes. "i'm so sorry, i didn't want you to find out this way. i wish i was really there with you.." he whispers, hands now holding your waist gingerly. your hands grip his shoulders, digging into them as though you do not want to let this vision of him go.

"neteyam-" even uttering his name caused a sob to escape. "when will i see you again?" you whimper as you fully comprehend that you will not be able to physically be with neteyam ever again. you will never get to have his kisses or his warm cuddles through the night or his hand holds as you walk through the village together or hear his jokes or listen to his laugh. all you will have is this vision of him. "ma y/n, you can come to the tree whenever you need me, i will always be here. and when it is your time, you will be able to join me here with eywa. you will always have me, i will always be in your heart. you will never be without me, yawne"

[ane-doodles]

Yuridia's sons

Join me for a while in this little infodump…

I have previously shown pieces of information about Yuridia, being the alternative version of Narinder in the goat dimension. Also in the past I showed some slides explaining some details about the differences between the dimensions… and much longer ago I talked about my beloved OC Juvenal

And guess what?

EVERYTHING COMES TOGETHER!! >:D

Notice of long post talking about the history of ocs with a little blood here and there (descriptions of abuse and violence, and poorly detailed images of decapitation.)

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Yuridia is the main goddess in her dimension, she reigns over the cycle of reincarnation, being able to kill and bring her followers at her convenience in new bodies designed by herself. She herself can even prolong the cycle's waiting time, but she can also prevent the reincarnation of a soul into its designated body (this is considered a punishment of the worst kind). In the very distant past she was also the goddess of death, but after her blossoming as a goddess her powers were diverted to reincarnation. Something curious is that, being the goddess of reincarnation, she can kill a body… but not a soul (save this fact for later).

Yuridia is also a kind of "master of lies." She herself transforms her body into the appearance of an adorable puppy (Samoyed) to make herself look beautiful and harmless, when in reality she is terribly selfish, aggressive, manipulative and disinterested in anything that does not bring her any benefit.

The goddess also has one… three (?) children, and they are these here:

From left to right their names are 1) Ceracela, 2) Bernabé, 3) Canio. And together they make "Cancerberus"

(Jsjsjs I feel like I have a big brain for thinking about this, let me enjoy it)

Cerberus takes the place of Baal and Aym in this dimension, so here they are kind of guardians and warriors too. Unlike their mother, they are completely dogs (omitting the part with the three heads of course).

Long before her false imprisonment, Yuridia noticed how a rumor was spreading among her followers and the bishops that one of her sons would inherit the crown in the future, and that the most anticipated candidate was Canio, being the most physically similar to his mother. and with a more gentle personality "as a god who takes and gives life should be."

Although rumors spoke of inheriting the crown, Yuridia assumed it was a theft of her position, so she took matters into her own hands (literally).

Reuniting with her children, Yuridia tore off Canio's head, leaving the body of her other two children damaged.

She gets rid of the head but not having the power to permanently kill Canio's soul ends up reincarnating in a different dimension, the dimension of the lamb. This is where my oc's existing little lore comes in:

Juvenal is Canio who, having forgotten his identity, ends up receiving a new opportunity to live. He retains a sweet soul but tinged with fear due to trauma resulting from his death. Although he does not have all the powers he had, he has the trait of immortality and does not need to be turned into a demon to be taken to the crusades.

Ceracela and Bernabé develop an immediate ear for their mother having killed their brother just to maintain a position she was never in danger of losing. Despite this, they must continue their work as guardians.

Neither of them are in Yuridia's domain during her imprisonment, but are instead in charge of guarding the cult grounds in the goat's absence.

When the goat has completed his mission and is about to meet Yuridia again, they try to stop him, warning him that what he does will be terrible for everyone. The goat only thinks about ignoring them and continuing but Yuridia takes the body of her vessel and attacks her sons, considering them traitors.

Similar to Canio/Juvenal's fate they are separated and stripped of their powers. They also retain the trait of immortality.

When the goat discovers the possibility of traveling between dimensions, he is surprised to see Juvenal, immediately recognizing that he is related to Yuridia due to their physical resemblance, although the dog cannot explain it to him. It is in a meeting with the twins that he learns the story of their separation and proposes (beyond Yuridia's knowledge) to reunite them once again, bringing the boys with him to the cult of the lamb.

I'm still thinking about their reunion and what it will be like. I'm also working on a character sheet for all three, although at this point I'd have to draw all three of them separately.

These three have been occupying my mind for a long time and I have tried to give them a good story. I don't know how often I'll be able to draw them in the future (because it's hard for me not only to draw furries but also to draw three heads on one body!) but I'll always be willing to answer questions about them.

Oh! And if you have ideas to improve the story or what their reunion could be like, tell me! I would love to read it…

I hope you liked my little tragic story with a happy ending :)

[cravingcoldoreocake123]

Eternal garden

TW: Reader’s call sign is Nova, mentions of death, gun violence, and really sad shit 😟 (ooc ghost, maybe?)

For all my broken heart girlies, ilysm.

(also this my first time writing something related to cod, pls lmk what you think if u can! Enjoy! <3)

It happened in a split second, right before his frightened eyes.

the piercing sound of a single bullet flying right by him missing him, but it was all too late as he aimed his own gun at the sniper on the roof, as it has already penetrated her delicate skin.

Nova was his reason to keep going, he adored her more than anyone, vowed to protect her life for eternity even if that meant he could lose his.

He rushed to hold her fragile frame in his arms as a single tear fell from her eye down to the mask covering her soft features. Her eyes, in Simon’s world at least, were clouds for even when they fill with sorrow and drown the land, they paint the sky with unimaginable beauty.

Nova always feared this day would come, he’d always hold her so tight as she cried and burrowed her face so deep into his chest she could smell his scent for hours after. She’d sob for so long and he’d never get annoyed or bored with her, he was simply satisfied with the fact he was there for her, sometimes they’d fuck it out, and sometimes they wouldn’t, it all depended on his ‘beauty’, as he called her.

“I would rather have my bones crushed one by one, than see a single tear drop from your beautiful eyes, for your body is repairable, but your heart isn’t, my life.” He would say.

He was frightened to hold her that she’s pure, heavenly and unreachable for his sinned hands.  “It hurts, Simon.” She cooed out softly, barely being able to speak.

And at that very moment, he felt his heart break into a million pieces as he could not take her pain away all to himself, he’d never be able to forgive himself for being so late and far enough form the bullet to not pierce his chest instead of hers.

“Johnny! Call for evac! Nova has been shot!”

Simon was a brave, strong man. He never cried for animals that died in movies or for children that passed from cancer. Hell, not even for his soldiers that fought beside him in war. But he felt his eyes water as blood started draining from her beautiful face.

 “Don’t you dare close your eyes now, love. That’s an order!”

She smiled weakly as she held her cold hand against his cheek.

“Still bossy even in death, I see.”

“Don’t. Don’t let that word out of your mouth again, you hear me? You are not dying.”

Johnny rushed to his side taking in the sight before him; Simon crouched down on his knees holding what once was so cheerful and full of life, become tainted with blood and face painted of yellow.

“I called for evac but we are far from reach, Ghost, said they’ll be here in an hour.”

Simon Riley then prayed. He closed his teary eyes and prayed so hard to a god he didn’t know if he believed in, to save his beloved.

“You can do it, darling, I know you can. You have been through worse, I believe in you strong girl.” He babbled on and on about how you were stronger than a bullet, but he didn’t know if he was comforting you or himself. “My sweet girl.”

Johnny always suspected there was something between the lieutenant and his sergeant, but he was still a bit surprised at Simon’s affection and emotions.

They were inseparable back at base, even in missions, Simon always made sure Nova was right by him. Sometimes Soap and Gaz would make fun of their lieutenant as he always was looked out for her, made sure there was enough food left for her, pulled back her chair when she went to sit and scared off soldiers that bothered her, but he’d always deny their allegations and tell them to “shut it”, but they all knew he was just frightened and believed he was undeserving of any form of love, let alone yours.

He was smitten ever since the day you arrived, and if he was blinded by the moment he laid his eyes on you, his soul would not grieve, for in that very instance, it truly gazed upon perfection.

To say that he was scared was an understatement. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of her hand or even dare to look away from her face, feeling as if she’d slip away if he did.

“Do you remember what we talked about before this mission? How we’d retire, get a cabin somewhere far in the woods, with a big dog? Hm?”

she stayed still for a minute before chuckling faintly. “And two cats.”

He laughed, genuinely laughed at her response, she was always cheerful and full of hope even in the worse of situations. “And two cats.” He repeated.

“You promised we’d name the dog Fluffy, and that he’d be a golden retriever. You never liked cats much though.”

“We can get as many cats and dogs as you want my love, just keep those pretty eyes open for me, yeah? Johnny is here for you too.”

Ghost reached for her other hand and put in on top of Soap’s.

Johnny tried his best to not break down in front of his dying friend. They were always the trouble makers back at the base. Clowns, as Captain Price labeled the pair. They would always pull the silliest pranks on their teammates, they once poured a whole tub of salt into Gaz’s coffee, and cut holes in a few shirts of ghost’s after they both finished watching Mean Girls together, but Johnny got a taste of his own medicine once when his partner in crime turned against him and put neon green hair dye in his conditioner, and let’s just say that that did not end well as he gained a new look and an eye infection.

“They’re almost here, Nova, you’re gonna be back on your feet in no time, and we’ll pull even more pranks back in base, we can even get captain Price this time! We can sew a unicorn horn in the middle of his hat, like we said we would. How does that sound?” He frantically said.

Silence.

Dreaded silence was all that was heard before both her hands dropped to the ground beside her limp body. She was unresponsive.

Johnny couldn’t hold his tears back anymore and let them fall freely on her stomach as he clung so tightly to the corpse of his best friend.

Simon was crushed, to say the very least. He kept his warm hands on her beautiful face, and even in death’s grip she looked stunning, her face beamed underneath the setting sun, and her chapped lips curled up into a soft smile, and if it wasn’t for the blood on her clothes, you’d think she was in deep sleep.

He couldn’t bring himself to let go of her, even after evacuation arrived at scene, including captain price, Gaz and König. They all had to pry him off of her so that they could put her body on the carrier, and to the helicopter. That was the first and last time they had ever seen Ghost break down, so miserable and helpless.

Simon never once forgot about Nova, or her cheerful smile that lit up every room brighter than the early rays of the morning sun, nor her ridiculous jokes she’d crack at the wrong times. She was his light, his dream, and if he had a flower for every thought he had of her after her death, he’d walk through a beautiful garden for eternity.

[wen-kexing-apologist]

WKA Gay Analysis Assembly

Hello! Welcome to my blog, please note I am unhinged about my silly little gay shows and as evidence I give you an exhaustive list of all the analysis posts (and some non-analysis posts) I have written :)

I will be updating this post as I write more, and the most recent show I am watching/writing about will be listed first. Please know my DMs and my Inbox are always open!

By, For, and About Queers (The By, For, and About Queers posts are not about any particular show, and are instead a little write up of the way I categorize the BL shows that I am watching)

By/For/About- Part 1 (a conversation with @absolutebl)

By/For/About- Part 2 (a conversation with @solitaryandwandering) Also check out the really lovely response from @solitaryandwandering here

Toxic and Messy: TharnType v. Only Friends (aka We Trust Jojo) (a conversation with @absolutebl and @respectthepetty)

The Sign

Feelings Made Visible: Design Choices in The Sign

Fantasy v. Reality in The Sign

Last Twilight

Episode 1 Thoughts (in which I state my fears that were later realized)

Reflections in Last Twilight (Episode 1-2)

Physical Touch in Last Twilight (Episodes 1-3)

Thoughts on Last Twilight, Ep. 5 (aka when I still thought the show was good)

Last Twilight, Ep 12 (in which I rant about the ableism in the narrative and the undermining of the show's themes)

Shadow

Shadow thoughts

The Left Hand of God

Is Brother Anurak the One Armed Man?

What Happened to Trin? aka Paying Attention to my Favorite Straight Boy

I Feel You Linger in the Air

Let's Talk About Sex: ESSAY #69!!! (breakdown of the sex scene in IFYLITA Episode 8)

Only Friends Academic Essay Series

Only Friends, Boston, and Queer Culture

Only Friends and Respectable Promiscuity

Only Friends, Racism, and the Commodification of Queer Asians Everything else

Ray and Rehab

Boston the Slut

Hypocrisy

Who is Mew, Anyway?

You're Mine No Matter What: The Commodification of Sand

Explosions (fight night round two, Ep. 6)

Fight Night (scene breakdown of the fight in Episode 5)[Sand Addition by @ranchthoughts]

Poor Boy (a discussion on the beloved Poor Boy t-shirt)

Watch The Warp Effect before Only Friends

Misunderstanding Top? (a conversation with @respectthepetty)

What the Fuck is Boeing Doing Here?

Only Friends Reflection

My Ride

Rain, BL Boys, and Reciprocity

My Ride Finale

Be My Favorite (how did I get here, I wasn't planning on watching this!)

Permanence in BMF (in conversation with @stuffnonsenseandotherthings)

Lack of Touch in BMF (in conversation with @wanderlust-in-my-soul and @dropthedemiurge)

Cupid's Last Wish 1. Trans Allegory in Cupid's Last Wish (in partnership with @so-much-yet-to-learn and @lurkingshan)

La Pluie

The Language of Love In La Pluie Ep. 8

Ep. 8 Stray Thoughts

Hands in Ep. 7

Hands in Ep. 6

Subversion (a conversation with @lurkingshan)

Pee Peerawich Can Fucking Act

Connection

Body Language in La Pluie Ep. 12

Step by Step

On the Subject of Pat 2.0- A Defense

On the Subject of Pat- A Timeline (a conversation with @waitmyturtles)

Totally Normal About Episode 7

Lighting in Ep 9 (a conversation with @istanchan)

Going Out- Sharing Space with the Unhoused

Compartmentalizing

Workplace Homophobia and Relationship Development Between Pat and Jeng

Our Skyy 2

OS2 x The Eclipse - Characterization

OS2 x BB x ATOTS- Phupa and Queerness aka Damn You WMT (that's right! Damn you, @waitmyturtles!)

OS2 x BB x ATOTS- Validation! aka Phupa and Queerness- Part 2 (and a shout out to @lurkingshan and @waitmyturtles for writing such brilliant meta I almost...almost didn't have to write one myself)

Pat, Pran, Losing Parental Relationships, and Sex (a conversation with @shortpplfedup)

Our Dining Table

Silence (including conversation with @laowen)

Yutaka and Yukata

Bed Friend

True Colors? (a conversation with @dribs-and-drabbles and @respectthepetty)

Uea and Red

Reflections + Uea and Yellow

Uea and Gray (a conversation with @respectthepetty) Uea and Gray but this time not tacked on to RTP's post

Mommy Dearest 2.0

Uea's Episode 7 Costumes

Bed Friend and Reflections- Part 1

Bed Friend and Reflections- Part 2

Bed Friend and Reflections- Part 3 (this is my favorite of the parts)

Water, Songkran, and KingUea

Moonlight Chicken

Heart Confrontation Scene

Heart and Li Ming Colors and Stripes

Red, Wen, and Blue

Naming the Deaf Character Heart

Heart's Communication

Wen's Badge Parallel

Modern Thai Sign Language to American Sign Language Index

Heart's Vocalization

Mommy Dearest (Jam and Li MIng)

Isn't it Difficult to Be Born Poor?

Moonlight Chicken is for the Queers

Resolution

Heart's Signs Translated (this one is not mine, but I don't want to lose this post so I am placing it here)

Best Criers in MLC

Worst Parallel

Utsukushii Kare

Self-Deprecation Harms Everyone

Our Flag Means Death

Over-analyzing the Color Red

Silk as Symbolism for Ed's Heart

[bubblegump-1-nk]

Can’t Catch Me Now

Matthew Riddle x Fem!Reader

summary: Mattheo’s father sent him on a mission: make you fall in love with him, then lure you into a death trap. He should’ve known you wouldn’t let him forget you that easily…

Disclaimer: mentions of death, toxic relationships, cursing, slight mentions of torture

Song: Can’t Catch Me Now by Olivia Rodrigo

- First time writing for Mattheo! Wanted to do another fic abt my baby Theo but this idea came to me and couldn’t bring myself to write something so toxic about him 😭. Also there’s a lot of time skips in this so I hope it’s easy to follow!

“I love you.” You said sweetly.

“Me too, see you tonight.” Mattheo responded.

You kissed him on the cheek and entered the Transfiguration classroom as Mattheo left to go to Divinations. Tonight… if only you knew what was in store for you. Time past forward quickly, and now Mattheo was knocking on your dorm door, and you walked out, ready for your date.

“You look beautiful” He said

“Thank you. You don’t look to drab yourself.” You said, causing him to chuckle before taking your hand and leading you out of the castle.

You two had been walking for ages, getting farther and farther away from Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Not a soul in sight.

“Ok seriously, where are we going Matty? We’ve been walking for years.” You say, dragging out the last word.

“Soon. We’ll be there soon.” He said, tensing up as he did.

You were now at a location, heavily secluded from everyone and everything. You joked that no one would hear you scream out here. Only you had meant it in a different way than what was actually held in store for you. That’s when they appeared, the Death Eaters. You looked at Mattheo in shock, but he was already tearing his hand away from yours and stepping back, taking his wand out.

“Mattheo?” You whispered, tears in your eyes. A look of horror on your face. No wand in hand.

You screamed when the Crucio hit your chest, soon followed by a spell that left you unconscious on the floor.

***

You had been sitting in the chair for hours. You hands and legs tied back. About 5 Death Eaters were in the room, Mattheo making up the 6. He never hit you with a spell, but he never blocked one either. Just stood there, watching, his face wiped clear of any emotions. As you were focused on him, you made eye contact with him for the first time since being in the room. The spells had stopped for about 20 seconds now. Was it finally over? Were you free to go? That’s when it hit you. The green light. You fell unconscious, never to be seen again.

“Mattheo wake up! We’re here.” Said Theo (😍), having been shaking Mattheo vigorously for about 3 minutes.

“What?” He asked, still shaken from the dream he just had. He’s been having it for weeks now. Ever since the incident. Your death has followed him even into his unconscious mind. He can’t escape you.

“We’ve arrived at Hogwarts you idiot.” Said Draco, exasperated at Mattheo’s constant zoning out.

All the boys knew about the mission, they all knew what happened in the late days of May. They were all at the meeting after your death, Voldemort congratulated all of them - which is something you don’t simply forget. Y/n’s father was a powerful wizard, who declined all of the Dark Lord’s advancements of recruitment. So, Voldemort decided he might just need a little push, that being the death of his beloved daughter Y/n. It didn’t work, of course, and instead your father and mother ended up fleeing to some desolate place.

“Git.” Mattheo said, before slapping Draco across the head and collecting his belongings to get off the train.

Draco lifted his arm as to hit Mattheo back but Blaise grabbed his arm and gave him a look that made Draco forget about hitting him. They all knew Mattheo never actually loved you, but it doesn’t change the fact that he was still responsible for killing someone. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s turning out just like his father.

———

They soon entered Hogwarts and took their seats at the Slytherin table.

“What’s taking the first years so long?” Theo asked, wondering why the sorting ceremony hadn’t started yet.

“Beats me but I’m fucking starving.” Said Blaise.

Mattheo was about to speak but was cut off by Dumbledore, who now stood in front of the podium.

“Welcome all back to Hogwarts. Now, I’m aware that you must all be very hungry, but this is a statement I must make, and we’ve decided it’s better made without the first years present.” He paused for a moment, adjusted his glasses, and continued. “As I’m sure you all sadly know, one of your classmates has died this pass summer.” A complete hush fell over the Great Hall, everybody knew about what happened to you. What happened to your family. Except, no one knew who or what caused it. Your death and your parents ‘disappearance’ was all a mystery to everyone except for the 4 Slytherin boys sitting at the middle of the table in far right.

“Y/n L/n was a strong witch, who was kind to all who…..”

Mattheo began to zone out, not wanting to be reminded of you more than he already was. It all started about 2 weeks after your murder. The first time was when he awoke in the middle of the night, you had infiltrated his dreams again. He went outside for a smoke, when he heard it.

“Mmaatheeooo”

He turned his head swiftly to the left, where the sound came from.

“Mmaatheeooo”

It came again, but this time from behind him. Your voice. It was your voice.

This reoccurred about once a week. Sometimes in the dead of the night, sometimes while eating lunch or reading the Daily Prophet.

———-

Mattheo tried his best to forget about you, to have a good year, but it was hard with you stalking his every move. It had worsened now. He heard you calling his name almost every day, your face appeared in the flames of the fire in the common room for a split second last night. He’s already found three of the letters you wrote him in the past on his desk, letters he was sure he had burned. And the worst part was, he couldn’t tell anyone, couldn’t say anything. He would just appear weak and crazy.

It was now early November, and the days were getting colder. Mattheo found himself walking alone outside, going to retrieve the jumper he left by Hagrid’s hut. As he was nearing the hut he heard a strange sound. Almost like heavy footsteps. He turned around, and looked around swiftly but not a soul was outside. He shook it off and continued walking, except this time the footsteps were louder, and closer. He turned around again but not a person was in sight. He began to walk faster, the footsteps did too. He stopped abruptly, looking around one last time, when he saw them. Footprints, leading all the way up to right by his side. His heart beat faster, and the wind began whistling as it passed through the trees. The world was silent.

“Mattheo” Came a voice right beside him.

Mattheo jumped back, a quiet shriek leaving his throat.

“Mattheo” It came again.

“Get the fuck away from me! Stay the fuck away from me!” He called out. It was silent for a few seconds, Mattheo thinking his warning had worked.

“Catch me.” The voice said. Your voice said.

Mattheo was confused, what did you mean ‘catch me?’ Was that even what you said? Your voice was a breathy whisper, so the words were hard to make out.

“What is wrong with you?” He called out again.

“Can’t. Catch me. Now.” You said, your voice circling around Mattheo.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Mattheo practically screamed this time.

All was quiet, before the footsteps slowly started walking away. It appeared as though you were walking backwards, by the looks of the prints.

Mattheo stood there, shocked, watching as you walked away from him.

Then the footsteps were gone, just as quickly as they had come and the landscape returned to a quiet and peaceful one. The sky was getting darker, and by the looks of it, Mattheo had missed dinner. He slowly began dragging his feet in the direction of the astronomy tower. Once he reached the top, he let out a sigh and pulled out his cigarettes and a lighter.

He’s beginning to think he might just be going crazy.

“Figured you’d be up here.” Says a voice from behind him.

“Yep.” He says, as Theo comes to stand next to him.

“Pass me one.” Theo says, holding his hand out for a cigarette. Mattheo hands him one and Theo lights it.

The smoke in silence, appreciating the view along with the cold air. The smoke from the cigarettes blending with the smoke from their breath.

“She’s everywhere you know.” Mattheo blurts out.

Theo’s silent for a moment, staring out at the sky.

“I know.” He says, finally.

“You do?” Mattheo asks, turning to face Theo. A confused expression painting his face.

“Yeah. I hear her laughter.” Theo explains.

“Her laughter? That’s it?” Mattheo asks, temper rising. How come he has to endure all this pain and Theo gets laughter?

“Yeah, she sort of just laughs lightly every now and again. It used to scare me shitless but now I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Yeah we’ll count yourself fucking lucky. She calls out my name. She fucking followed me today, her footprints were everywhere. Her voice was saying some shit about how I can’t catch her anymore. This shits so fucked up.” He says, growing angrier by each word.

Theo let’s out a laugh.

“You think this is fucking funny, do you?”

“Well, I mean, she’s right. You can’t catch her anymore.”

“Does it look like a give a fuck? Why doesn’t she whisper to you this shit, huh?” Mattheo asks, annoyed.

“Maybe because she never loved me. Maybe because she loved you.”

“Yeah, well, you were just as responsible in her death as I was.”

“Right… but it was you she trusted.” Theo says.

“Alright mate are you on her side or mine?”

“Yours obviously. She’s coming for me too.”

“You know, I miss her, now and then.” Mattheo says, reluctantly after a bout of silence

“Yeah well that’s no good is it? She’s still dead whether you miss her or not.”

“I fucking know that! Don’t you think I fucking know that?!” Mattheo yells, throwing his cigarette at Theo

“Calm down mate. It’s not doing you any good getting worked up about it.”

——-

It’s December now. All the leaves have left their trees and the the weather’s gotten harsh and bitter. Mattheo can’t escape you no matter what he does. You’re here, you’re there, you’re fucking everywhere. He hears your voice when the wind blows, hears your laughter in the rustle of the trees. The other boys all know of Mattheo’s pain. They’ve experience it too, but like Theo, they only experience it now and again. It seems they’re not your priority on your haunting list.

Mattheo’s laying in his bed, trying to find sleep. You haven’t let him sleep properly since about 3 weeks ago. As he turns to the side, he sees the curtains around his four poster shifting, getting moved to the side. He intakes a sharp breath. The curtains fully open now, and he’s met with a cold wind.

“Won’t you just leave me the fuck alone?” He whisper-shouts.

He’s met with no answer. The room is now completely silent, and before long 10 minutes have past. Was that really all you came to do? Move his curtain? Whatever it was, he’s thankful for your departure because now he’s really feeling the exhaustion kick in. His eyes begin to shut and his body relaxes as it melts into his mattress. Just as he feels like he’s about to get the sleep he’s so desperately been needing…

“See you tomorrow” You whisper, right into his ear, mocking the words he had said to you the night of your murder.

———-

Sorry if the ending sucks, this idea came to me late one night so I began to write but I didn’t really think it out before I started 😭 I didn’t want to have this in my to-do list for forever so I’m really sorry if this feels rushed! I hope you guys enjoy it anyway

[queerprayers]

update <3

I've been procrastinating this (as if that could make it all less real), but so many people have sent prayers and well wishes that I wouldn't feel right not letting you know how grateful I am for your words and also letting you know this: My beloved grandfather died last week.

I honor the faithful service he gave to countless churches and communities, the children he helped raise, the grandchildren he sang to, the children he baptized, the couples (including my parents) he married, the people he buried, the music and faith that never left him even when so much of him did.

I will pass on the last thing he ever said to me, in July, after a busy and joyful weekend celebrating his fiftieth wedding anniversary, as he got in bed for his nap, taking seconds in between words to think: "It's not all hard. Not all the time." This is so hard. But it's also part of loving someone: promising to mourn them when the time comes. Promising to keep going. Love is hard, but it's not all hard. Not all the time.

His funeral will be Catholic, but he used to be a Lutheran, and he presided over many funerals from the worship book I still use, so here are some words I've been saying from there:

O God of grace and glory, we remember before you today our brother. We thank you for giving him to us to know and to love as a companion in our pilgrimage on earth. In your boundless compassion, console us who mourn. Give us your aid, so we may see in death the gate to eternal life, that we may continue our course on earth in confidence until, by your call, we are reunited with those who have gone before us; through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.

Into your hands, O merciful Savior, we commend your servant. Acknowledge, we humbly beseech you, a sheep of your own fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of your own redeeming. Receive him into the arms of your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light.

The generations rise and pass away before you. You are the strength of those who labor; you are the rest of the blessed dead. We rejoice in the company of your saints. We remember all who have lived in faith, all who have peacefully died, and especially those most dear to us who rest in you. Give us in time our portion with those who have trusted in you and have striven to do your holy will. To your name, with the Church on earth and the Church in heaven, we ascribe all honor and glory, now and forever. Amen.

O death, where is thy sting? O grave, thy victory? The strife is o'er, the battle done. Love will come again like wheat arising green. The Lord bless and keep him. The Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious to him. The Lord look upon him with favor and grant him peace.

I'm not a Catholic, and was never really taught to pray for souls, but I think I get it a bit now. He was, though, and if that's something you do, I'm sure he would have welcomed that. (And if you know any good saints to throw in the mix, go for it.) My grandmother could also use your prayers.

Thank you for reading this, and holding for a moment the love I have for him. It's heavy right now, and easier to carry with others' prayers beside me. I am praying beside you as well, especially with the many people who have sent me asks that have gone unanswered for ages now. And God holds all of us, more than we could ever imagine. I don't claim to understand death, but I am in the palm of the universe's hand, and my granddad is too, reunited with all that left him in his sickness, and united with a God who knows death intimately. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, love to love.

<3 Johanna

[thegengarprincess]

“I always thought you looked beautiful in white..&🤍

— — — — — — — — — —

— — — — —{}@{}

Pairing; (🐶🫶🐱) Jure Maček x Bojan Cvjetićanin

Warning; RPF AS ALWAYS! don’t like, don’t ✨read✨! That is all ;3. (⚠️)

Tags; (👗🚬) cross dressing/ mild angst with a happy ending/ misunderstandings/ dialogue light until paragraph 5 cuz author’s has a terminal case of ✨over explainer✨/ tooth-rotting fluff/ the wedding dress photos have been holding my soul hostage since I saw them N this the product of that 🥲👍/ time skip/ Puppy Love™️/ Bojan is literally just a lovestruck puppy boy at his core and I won’t let anyone forget it/ post- midlife crisis kitty + puppy cuddles/ they have a orange cat N beagle puppy by now who follow the two e v e r y w h e r e/ author still can’t tag 4 shit/ BOJAN GIRLYS/GN! PSPSSPSPS COME GET UR FOOD WERE HAVING POST-SHOWER BOJAN 4 DINNER >XD/ author is desperately starved of BoJure content so they took matters into their own hands (💍)

Word count; (🌹💘)

Summery; After a incredibly tiresome day of blitzing the entirety of their cramped apartment together in an attempt to neaten up the humble abode for the couple’s big move to Logatec, Jure takes it upon himself to tackle their shared wardrobe only to stumble across an item that hadn’t seen the light of day in a long, long time. A wedding dress of all things? Tho to some a wedding dress is just a big, white, poofey gown you’ll only ever wear once then only see in dated photo’s. But to the drummer, it was the very same dress he wore for that photoshoot with his now fiancé of two in a half years shortly before they ended up becoming much more than friends(with benefits). “Wonder if it still fits anymore?…” (🚚)

A/N; (👾🎁) *W E L L*- it’s been almost 2/1 months since the last time I’ve came out my self-induced hibernation EXCEPT THIS TIME I come barring a (belated) bday gift 4 my wonderful, amazing, gorgeous, sweet, talented, cat-coded darling of a moot *THE* ✨@j-restlessgeek✨ (who u should ABSOLUTELY be following btw >:3!) N w us both being normal 2 a certain degree over that photoshoot w Jure in a mfn *WEDDING DRESS*, I sprinted 2 my drafts, beat my writers block w a iron hammer N now I’m left w this ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️. THO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO! BONE, APPLE, TEETH N CATCH YA ON THE FLIP SIDE~<3

? _ “ . ^ + * ] 🎀 [ + ^ * . _ !

Switching off the running water, droplets from it’s remains began their journey trickling down the ends of Bojan’s drenched hair and back, swiftly snagging two freshly dried, strawberry pink towels from their nest on-top the radiator and wrapping the larger of the two around his soft, yet still that little bit toned waist as a means of hiding the singer’s (admittedly small) dignity then going in with the same process on his semi-soaked hair. Tussling silky, puppy brown locks till they were restored to their fluffy and water-free glory once more.

After shuffling into a pair of spare grey sweats and his favourite (out of the fifty he used to frequently steal from Kris) Beatles tee, threw on some moisturiser combined with the brunette’s much beloved hair products, he strolled down the boldly patterned hall to his and Jure’s shared bedroom to check with the other what movie he decided they’d be watching that night. Which was Bojan’s plan. Until he locked eyes with the sight said bedroom had so unfairly chosen to lay before him….

He swept open the door with a gentle hand, all knowledge of anything other than the figure that also seemed just as lost in their own little bubble as he was, completely stripped away from him in less than a millisecond. If you asked Bojan what the definition of “perfection” was, his answer would simply be the person he saw in that very moment without a single thought.

Investigating every part of themselves in the mirror, unbeknownst to how they had just effortlessly stolen not only his heart, but every word, thought and breath that hadn’t had time to run away from the home they called Bojan’s body. Tho sooner than later, the trance he’d somehow found himself in a whole lifetime ago by now slowly fizzled out, senses flooding back into their designated stations as he drunk in the utterly ethereal scene of his fiancé adorning what seemed to be a wedding dress?

It wasn’t just any wedding dress he’d found Jure clad in either, better yet the exact same one his lover had worn for a photoshoot that got very popular with a certain crowd which made up a (not all that) small corner of their fanbase almost two years ago if his mind wasn’t subconsciously changing how time worked again. And oh if it didn’t make Bojan want to fall straight to his knees right on this very floor he currently stood upon and worship every single minuscule atom that consecutively came together to create the undeniably gorgeous, talented, amazing, intelligent, beautiful, hot, wonderful, sexy, unreal and down right mesmerising human who only he got to the pleasure N divine prestige of calling “his pretty drummer” for how ever long he’d allow him the privilege to, eternally Bojan wishes. (And he would in a heartbeat if only there was somesort of miracle out there that could grant him permanent immortality to do so).

“Uhhh, m-muca….?” The slightly lovestruck singer spoke up meekly. Causing the bubble to burst completely as his fiancé swiftly quirked around to face him, stare’s ping-ponging back and forth in a short attempt at trying to grasp the signals Bojan’s face was sending the older’s way, a melting pot of surprise and shock swirled in blown chestnut pools while waltzing across the rest of his features but so did another feeling he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Regret? “Geez Bojči, You look like you saw a ghost or Sonček when he catches a bug. Is something wrong or-” “No no! I was gonna ask what movie you picked out for later and then I opened the door and saw ya like…that.” Jure glanced down and then, the realisation dawned on him. It’s the dress. He doesn’t like the dress on him.

Splotches of rose waltzed their way onto his cheeks and neck, almost giving off the appearance the sun has had it’s way with him earlier that day as if they weren’t entering early November in a few weeks. Pacing over to both boy’s wardrobe he prised open both doors and vigorously began undoing the laces that tied the gown together, a subtle frown accenting his lips.

‘What was with that face tho? Is he having second thoughts already?’

‘No that can’t be it! Maybe he was just a little surprised, haven’t worn it awhile anyway.’

‘The first words he said to me after leaving the changing room were I always thought you looked beautiful in white so what else could it be?!’

‘Did I do something wrong? Did he finally get tired of waiting and moved o-‘ “Darling wait! what’s up huh?-“ ‘I can’t be losing him now. How would I even explain it to the kids-‘ “Hey hey, I’m sorry if I looked a little mad but it’s not what you think it is I swea-“ ‘God please don’t say he’s-‘ “C’mon muca! just talk to me I’-“ ‘I should’ve left the damn dress where I found it then left it at tha-‘ “Jurček, wait no! don-“ ‘what have I done, what have I done, what have I done, what have I done, what have I do-‘ “Jur-“ ‘I shouldn’t of proposed in the first p-‘ “JURE.”

The blonde felt a tight sensation in his left wrist out of the blue. Like a weight was tugging at it and refused to come off no matter how hard he tried breaking away from it’s crushing, iron grip. And with that, his sudden mid-life crisis came to a careening halt, tweaking the other way to stare down furrowed browns and warm eyes reflecting into his own murky-tear pricked one’s. Now is definitely not the time to mention it of course, but Bojan had never seen a prettier cryer in all his 30 years, 1,565 weeks and 10950 days of being a resident of this planet we know as earth.

“Oh sweetheart~</3” He enveloped an arm around his lover’s nearly naked waist while another slotted in between short, soft, honey gold strands, cradling the older’s head as tenderly as one could. The more barley audible, soft weeps and sniffles poured out of Jure, the more pieces of the shorter boy’s heart shattered. Each break getting louder and louder till his fiancé’s muffled whimpers calmed down with the help of a few comforting back rubs accompanied by gentle whispers of “everything’s alright now” and “I’m here love, you’re safe” into Jure’s skin, long after all his tears gave out.

Still rubbing his eyes periodically and trembling internally, he intertwined his fingers then let Bojan guide them both to their bedside. Flopping down without hands parting a single time and burrowing themselves into eachother’s side, tracing thousands of nonsensical patterns over the drummer’s exposed chest, shifting upwards to carve a lingering kiss on his darling’s forehead with praises of every kind bouncing off those lips Jure never seemed to ever, ever get enough off no matter how many times he’s felt their heavenly touch. “You’re stunning you know that.” Bojan grinned through slurred words, sleep unwavering in its mission to reel him hook, line and sinker. “There’s no one in this world who’d I’d want as my muse not just now, but forever than my pretty drummer boy alright.”

“You’re pretty drummer boy eh?”

“And once again, I am really so sorry about earlier Muca-“

A chorus of paw prints bustled outside their door. Echoes of panicked meows and barks steeping closer and closer, making themselves increasingly known to the couple. “I’ll go let the kids in..” the blonde yawned, a fond twang lacing his speech as he quietly crawled out of his (quite obnoxiously snoring) fiancé’s grasp and nonchalantly turning the knob as both boy’s pets barged inside to shower their dad’s with a multitude of licks, nuzzles, sniffs and paws for attention. Being mindful not to disturb the lull that’s taken over the singer’s being as usual considering it was vastly approaching 5pm.

There was of course, much more work to be done before they could actually move but that’s one of the many task’s tomorrow’s Jure and Bojan will have to face. Their only task’s now consisting of supplying both animals currently huddled in their arms with everlasting pets while simultaneously keeping the other from hogging the covers, shielding them against the spitefulness that Slovenian winter brings year after year. Perhaps a spring wedding would suit them just fine…..~🔔