#and i think where it reaches the point of discomfort for me. beyond just. 'i see we have different interpretations of this scene'

[whatever-you-can-give-me]

maybe i'm just biased because of my specific analytical read, but every time i hear something to the tune of "xyz thing knives did to vash wasn't actually quite as bad as you think it is" my hackles go up. Maybe I'm Just Biased. but i think if you cannot emotionally confront the way that knives' entire character is based around ignoring the consent or wishes of. everyone, but especially his siblings, in a myriad of extremely loaded ways, you should probably have a think about how your knives apologism starts to sound.

[emmylksblog]

could do one where the reader and hector fort are friends with benefits and the reader is jealous but soon after he reveals his feelings and asks her to date

(English is not my first language, I hope you understand) love your write 💕

BEYOND THE BENEFITS PT. 1 // H.FORT

summary: Hector and you have been friends with benefits for some time now, but you begin to feel jealous when Hector starts spending time with other girls. But one night, at Marc's party everything takes a turn.

content: friends with benefits! , angst

warnings: none i think, just a little fight

words: 1171

a/n: i think i deviated a little from the original request but i hope you like it! also, i think i fell in love with marc guiu halfway, ups

Recently, you had begun to realize that your feelings for Hector had deepened into something more serious. You found yourself more and more jealous whenever another girl paid attention to him, and it was consuming you.

To make matters worse, Hector seemed to be pulling away, giving you less of his attention. This only fueled your overthinking and insecurities, making you feel like he was losing interest in you. You were constantly wondering what you did wrong and why he was becoming distant.

You made a difficult decision - you would figure out Hector's feelings for you at the party. If he didn't feel the same way, you had resolved to end your friendship, even though it would hurt deeply since you were friends before becoming friends with benefits.

The party was held by your mutual friend Marc Guiu, and as you entered, you spotted Hector across the room, chatting with a small group.

You deliberately slow down your pace, making sure not to approach Hector too quickly. Between conversations, you grab a drink and chat with other people at the party.

You keep an eye on Hector from across the room, waiting for an opportunity to talk to him alone. Finally, you spot him standing by himself, sipping a drink. This is your chance.

As you were about to approach Hector, you noticed one of the girls who had a crush on him - she had been shooting dagger eyes in your direction all night. She pretends to stumble and "accidentally" bumps into you, spilling her drink all over the front of your dress.

The girl doesn't leave you the opportunity to react and smirks leaning close to your ear.

"You really think Hector is interested in you?" she says in a low voice. "He's just using you for sex. You're nothing but a convenient distraction. He'll drop you as soon as he gets bored."

Despite your attempts to not let her words get to you, a seed of doubt has been planted in your mind. You force a smile, trying to remain composed.

"How do you know that?" you ask, feigning nonchalance. "Hector and I are friends. We've known each other for a long time."

The girl smirks, relishing in your discomfort. "Oh please," she rolls her eyes. "Everyone knows Hector's reputation. He doesn't commit to anyone, and trust me, you're no different."

As the girl's words sink in and the truth of Hector's reputation settles in your soul, tears well up in your eyes, but you stubbornly hold them back. Just then, Hector appears, followed by Marc, looking concerned.

Hector stops short when he sees the stain on your dress and the tears in your eyes. "Hey, what happened?" he asks, his voice laced with worry. And you can't help but only think about how his concern might be just an act as she said.

He glances at the girl who had spilled the drink on you before looking back at you, concern etched on his features. Marc, ever the peacemaker, attempts to diffuse the situation. "Everything alright here?" he asks, looking between you, Hector, and the girl.

Hector looks at you, his eyes fixed on the stain on your dress. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice soft. "I saw what happened. That girl was just being a..." He trails off, searching for the right words.

The stress and emotional weight of the evening finally get to you, and you reach your breaking point. You turn to Hector not letting him finish what he was about to say, your voice breaking slightly as you confront him.

"Were you just using me? Is it true that i'm just a toy that you'll toss aside when you get bored? Do I hold any importance to you at all?"

You're so focused on getting an answer that you don't notice that your conversation has become the center of attention for some of Hector's teammates.

Hector's hesitation and the silence that followed your question were all you needed to leave him by all means. Your heart breaks into a million pieces, and without another word, you turn on your heel and head for the door, tears streaming down your face.

Marc, who had silently observed the scene, sends a sharp glare at Hector before quickly following you, trying to catch up with your quick strides.

"¡Oye, espera!" ("Hey, wait!") Marc calls out, trying to get your attention.

He follows you out of the party, worried about the state you're in. "¿Estás bien? ("Hey, are you alright?") he asks, grabbing your arm gently to slow you down.

You shake your head, still reeling from the conversation with Hector. The tears are now falling freely, and you feel like your world has just collapsed.

"No," you manage to choke out, your voice wobbly. "I'm not alright."

Marc's face softens, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, trying to comfort you.

"Come on," he says gently. "Let's go someplace quiet where we can talk. You shouldn't be alone right now."

Marc has always been aware of Hector's feelings for you. He has seen how his friend looks at you, how he cares for you, and how he constantly seeks your attention. Everyone around you seems to know except you.

Marc's heart aches as he watches you cry, knowing that Hector has caused you so much pain by not recognizing his own feelings and instead complicating your friendship. He remembers the days when you three were inseparable, and he wished things had remained innocent.

Marc obliges, wordlessly embracing you and letting you cry into his shoulder. He gently rubs your back, trying to calm you down.

Meanwhile, Hector is standing a few feet away, watching the scene unfold. He had followed you and Marc outside, desperate to talk to you, but stumbled upon the sight of you in Marc's arms. Misinterpreting the situation, Hector assumes that there is something more between you and his friend.

His face darkens as he witnesses the affectionate gesture between you and Marc. A pang of jealousy and anger shoots through him, but he stands there frozen, trying to make sense of what he's seeing.

His mind starts to spin with doubts and insecurities. "Is this why she's been so distant lately?” he wonders. "Has she been spending time with Marc behind my back?"

It suddenly hits him that you were just friends with benefits. He had no claim over you, and you were free to date anyone you wanted.

Regret washes over him as he realizes that he should have made his feelings clear earlier before it was too late. He imagines you and Marc together, happy and in love, and the thought pains him, and a surge of hate towards his childhood friend Marc surfaces subconciously.

TO BE CONTINUED...

part 2!

[divine-misfortune]

perhaps 45 with omega/alpha, if that sounds interesting?

A kiss out of anger from this prompt list.

Btw toxic old man yaoi art by @aweisz if you even care (thank you so much)

Bracing himself only did so much. It didn’t stop him from choking on the wave of dry heat that assaulted him when he opened the door. Omega dutifully swallowed a mouthful of scalding cinder and gripped the doorknob a little tighter, eyes tracking the scorched path Alpha had paced along the length of his room. It would take several hours to polish his anger from the floorboards but he knew no amount of waxing and shining would remove the traces of ash from the wood. Just another scar. 

Omega stepped over the threshold. Willingly entered the cage with the spitting, raging demon and closed the door behind him.

Alpha’s eyes were fixed on the floor, hunched over himself. His arms were folded behind his back, clasping his wrist in one hand while the other repeatedly curled in and out of a fist. Omega ran his tongue over the back of his teeth, finding himself subconsciously mimicking his posture with a well trained rigidity. Steel spined, shoulders squared, hands folded neatly. There was a practiced sense of pride that he couldn’t give up, even now, even when he should be curling in on himself in shame. 

“Understand?” He interrupted, sparks sputtering from between his teeth. Restrained anger that Omega didn’t deserve the kindness of. “Where the fuck do you get off taking matters into your own hands like this? You have no right to speak on my behalf, to call me and my capability into question, no fucking right Meg!” 

“Alpha,” Omega began without knowing where he was going. If there was even a point to opening his mouth he had yet to find it. He debated a step forward but his body refused to budge and carry him closer to the fire ghoul.  “You have to understand-”

“I’m not questioning your capability,” he tried to start again, nails digging into his palm behind his back as he tried to gather himself. Beyond scattered, he found himself grasping blindly for the right wording - searching for the sincerity Alpha deserved but his shallow inhale left too much of a pregnant pause that Alpha took as a chance to continue spitting. 

“Oh but you did, you did the second you breathed a word of retirement to clergy. They’re all looking at me differently, like I’m useless. You seem to think I can’t do my fucking job, so what is it?” The question comes out serrated, sharp and ripping through him. “What’s this really about?” 

Alpha finally looked at him. Crimson eyes gone dull, the raging fire he’d fallen in love with had burned down to low embers and the guilt jabs him in the gut. 

Smoke billowed from the corners of his snarl and Omega found himself grateful for the awful heat filling the room, like the judgmental fires of hell were finally catching up to him. He hoped he burned, at the hands of Alpha or unholy retribution. Perhaps it was a deserved punishment in the end, his unwelcomed overstepping finally leading him to the cliff's edge. 

“I’m worried about you.”

Closer now, Omega noticed the twitch of discomfort in Alpha’s face as he stepped forward again. The way his body moved was jerky for a passing second like he was flinching from his own weight on his right leg. Another stab, higher, a knife between his ribs. Closer now, Alpha had never felt further away from him. Despite being in arms reach, there were miles between them. 

“Worried about me? You're worried about me?”

“You can't expect me to just sit and watch you-” 

“Be honest, this is about Terzo isn't it?”

“Alpha.” 

“No, no. It makes sense, it makes a lot of fucking sense when you think about it.” He's close, close enough Omega can feel the heat of his shaky breathing. “You don't think I'm good enough to stand by him anymore, do you? Do I tarnish your humans shiny appearance? Shouldn't surprise me that his image matters more to you-” 

“For the love of everything unholy. Alpha, no. Would you just listen to me?” 

“Oh yes, yes, of course I should listen. Omega knows best.” He threw his hands up with a laugh of disbelief. Omega couldn't stop his face from screwing up in irritation. “I don't know why I’m wasting my breath here, it’s clear you don’t care about me or a word I say.” 

The accusation knocked the wind from his sails, impeccable posture beginning to sag. First in the shoulders and then his arms fell back to his sides, hands curling into fists to hide the shake to them. Alpha scoffed as the quintessence ghoul opened his mouth to argue but couldn’t seem to find the words. Dismissive. He looked tired, years of being beaten into submission and pushing well past his limits taking their toll. Ice crept into his veins, a chilled numbness spreading from the tips of his fingers to his core - he couldn’t place if it was guilt or his own particular brand of rage. 

Alpha began to stalk past him, floorboards squeaking shrilly under his step like nails on a chalkboard. He grit his teeth, jaw creaking in kind as he turned and grabbed the other ghoul by the arm. There came the beginnings of a growl but Omega knew it was all bark, that there would never have been a real bite behind it, so he pushed. He pushed Alpha the few steps backwards till his back hit the door too hard, and he’d apologize later, but he chased the nerve he’d managed to scrounge up.

His skin was scalding as Omega grabbed his face roughly, surging forward to mold his mouth to Alpha’s before he could bite off another sharp word. The fire ghoul made a choked off sound of surprise, head thumping against the wood. His lips were rough, overly worried raw by well filed fangs, and Omega ached somewhere in his ribs at the familiarity. Months, it had been months since he'd felt Alpha against him and he hadn’t realized how much he missed it. Missed him. 

Tobacco and communion wine. Omega was sure Alpha had stolen it from the chapel and downed the bottle in an attempt to quell his anger but it hardly seemed to do the trick given where they found themselves. 

He braced a hand against Omega’s broad chest, not exactly pushing him away, it felt like another vye for physical contact. A quiet admission of how much Alpha missed this all the same. One kiss hardly felt like enough to convey himself, but as he flicked his tongue over the seam of his lips and Alpha reluctantly let him in, it felt like a start. The best he could do so suddenly. 

Slipping into his mouth, Alpha groaned lowly and leaned fully against the closed door, curling his fingers into the front of the other ghoul’s uniform to drag him all that much closer. Flames seemingly extinguished, the heat beneath his palms began to ebb back to a comfortable warmth and Omega let up a bit, opting to cradle his face instead of grab. Offer him a touch of tenderness, it was the least he could do. 

That clever forked tongue forced past his teeth and sought to lick the soured ash from his mouth. 

It was a moment he wished they could stay suspended in forever, reminiscent of their younger days where every spare moment they could steal together was passion fueled and driven by sparks. Alpha’s warm breath tickled against his cheek with every pleasured sigh, neither of them managing to quiet a single grateful sound. 

He started to pull back, managing an inch before changing his mind. Pressing forward for another far more chaste kiss, hating the idea of it ever truly ending. 

“Alpha…” The quintessence ghoul started, stroking a thumb over the cut of his cheek, eyes flicking from his spit shined lips to his almost glassy eyes. They refocused a bit more with every sluggish blink. “Alpha, love, I’ve never doubted you or your ability to perform for a minute, but I worry about how hard you push yourself.” 

He found himself frowning despite the previous giddy flutter of his heart. 

“You might be immortal, but your vessel is not.” Omega smoothed his hands down Alpha’s front, pausing over his chest to just feel his pulse and the labored breaths he took. “You’re not a young ghoul anymore, and I know you don’t want to admit it…So I admitted it for you. I know it wasn’t my place but I couldn’t sit and watch you work yourself to the bone.” 

“Megs,” Alpha sighed, brow furrowing. “Why didn’t you talk to me?” 

“Because I know you, and I know you’d never go quietly.” He chuckled though there was no real humor there, tinged by something sad. “We only have so much time left on the surface, and the idea of not spending the rest of it with you at my side is agonizing. I just wanted you to come back to me and not worry about you leaving again, always coming back in worse shape than you left in…You’re making me go gray from all the worrying I have to do.” 

It was Alpha’s turn to laugh. A sort of snort, actually amused unlike his previous attempt. Omega tipped his forehead against his, wanting to melt into him and his comforting warmth. 

“I’m sorry, my light. I would never do something like this to slight you, you know that, right?”

“...Yeah, yeah I do.” 

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did (Interlude): My Little Bunnies

a/n: happy belated easter to all those who celebrate! i wanted to write john & cass' first easter as parents and it became a 10 page fic with smut/fluff/angst. read on to meet their twins, meet cass' parents, learn more about her family history and so much more. and to the anon who sent an ask about them getting a bloodhound, yes. he is here. this was a real labor of love but it is my gift to you. i hope you all love it and please come let me know your thoughts on this little family. xoxo

warnings: smut

When Cass was quiet, it meant she was thinking. And since they had left the driveway of their beach house, she had been quiet. A notebook in one hand and a pen and leash in the other, John thinks she was attempting to memorize her to-do list for Easter Sunday.

“You know part of the reason I was convinced into coming here this weekend was your insistence on family walks,” he looked down at the two little bundles that were already gazing right back at him, “tell Mama she can relax for one night.”

“I’ll relax after everything goes off without a hitch tomorrow. It’s their first Easter and our first time hosting a holiday and the first time my family is seeing the house and-” She paused as Gale let out a sound of discomfort and started to squirm in the carriage, Cass quickly reaching down and smoothing a finger over his cheek with a coo. He quieted just as quickly at her touch and blinked up at her sleepily. “There, there my sweet boy. I’m right here.” Not for the first time, and not for the last time, John was endlessly amazed by his wife. How she managed to be a mother, a wife and still impress the brass in DC was beyond his comprehension. He hadn’t known it was possible to fall more in love with her and here he was. Falling in love with her more and more everyday. 

“We Egan boys get cranky when you aren’t around to dote on us.”

“Is that so? Do you agree with that, Butter?” The bloodhound gave a gentle bark in answer which John took as his agreement. “Well, Miss Penelope does have a habit of looking at every plane in the sky while she waits for you to come home.” He grinned so wide his eyes crinkled at the corners.

“That’s my little lamb,” he said with a gentle tickle to the top of her tummy, her giggles making her parents laugh right along with her. “And what about you? What do you do all day while you wait for me to come home?”

“Oh, I just stare longingly out the window because the thought of you not being around paralyzes me, Lieutenant Colonel Egan.” Cass held her hand to her forehead and feigned hysteria.

“I guess it is kind of beautiful here,” John relented as their walk took them to the beach. The waves were crashing against the sand as the sunset laid a pink backdrop to the view. He lifted his arm and Cass fell into his side with ease.

“I told you so,” she murmured against his chest. Cass had loved growing up on her family’s estate outside of Charleston. She had learned more about life running around that land than she ever had anywhere else. But every summer her mother would take her and siblings for Kiawah Island, where her father would join on occasion, and she would roam free on the sand and in the sun. There were no boys trying to dance with her and her mother didn’t yell at her for being barefoot and she was able to laugh loud and run fast and there were no consequences. “You see that gray house with the white balconies a few hundred yards that way?” She pointed in the general direction and John shaded his eyes to look. 

“That’s not a house, Cass, that’s a mansion.”

“That’s my parents house. My dad built it for my mom when I was little,” she said sheepishly. When she had been old enough to truly understand love and relationships, she had thought it was the most romantic thing. Had seen how happy it made her father to provide for her mother. How happy it made her mother that it was hers and only hers and almost a monument to the life they created together. “Since then, I’ve always wanted to raise my own family here.” John watched her caress the cheeks of their sleeping children with a smile.

“All I ever want, Cass, is for you and Gale and Penelope to be happy and safe. Nothing else matters to me.” The white house that was surrounded by trees on one side and the beach on the other had been a dream of Cass’ for a long time. She had told him about it back at Thorpe Abbotts and he had dreamed about it in his bunk on those cold German nights. Dreamed about buying it for her and carrying her over the threshold and filling it with their love and the pitter patter of little feet. 

“Lucky for you, that’s all I want, too. And maybe some more kisses.” 

“You’re saying I don’t kiss you enough?” he asked with raised eyebrows. She shook her head.

“Not nearly enough.” John had worked overtime for months to set aside enough for the down payment. Had turned down her father’s offer to buy it as a wedding gift. He had wanted to get this for her, for his wife, all on his own. She was the reason he was alive. It was only a drop in the bucket for what he owed her. 

“It’s talk like that that got us here in the first place,” he whispered with a nod towards the carriage. “You being a little kiss thief.” Butter whined with displeasure.

“He doesn’t like when you’re snarky to me.” Their chests were pressed together now, his nose bumping hers as he laughed. “You’re the one that spent his whole puppy life telling him he had to be my guard dog,” she added with a gentle poke to his chest. Cass had just sweet talked her way into convincing John that Butter was meant to come home with them, having found him in a horse stall at her family’s place, when he asked if she wanted to take a drive to the beach. She thought he meant somewhere close but as they drove past the turn for Folly she began to get an idea of where he was taking her. She remembers her heart sinking when SOLD was in big red letters on the sign. John had asked if she wanted to take a look around anyways. For old time’s sake. 

“Yeah and when he successfully chased that crazy bird away from you last month you were very grateful for it.” He scratched behind the hounds ears for good measure.

“I was. Seagulls scare me, you know that.” Ever since one had snatched her lunch right out of her hands on the very beach they were looking at when she was still in pigtails. Cass had told him that story while they walked around the house. Her hands wistfully touching the floors and her smile at the scent of the water making it hard for John to keep the secret in. She had known back then she was pregnant, hadn’t found the right time to tell John yet and hadn’t known there were two baby Egans on their way, but had told him she hoped this house made a family happy. That they loved it the way she had as a little girl and didn’t change a thing. He had told her to close her eyes and hold out her hand. And she looked confused at the cool metal that he placed in her palm, understanding registering when she opened her eyes and saw it was a key.

 What do you say we fill this house with our family, my love?

----

As it was most mornings, her nightgown was bunched around her waist as she gasped into John’s mouth. She was gently rotating her hips while his fingers gripped her hips tighter and tighter and his hips thrusted up into her slowly. 

“Fuck, John,” she moaned as he sat up and kissed her roughly. 

“You close, baby?” It was always a bit of a race to get there before the twins woke or before a housekeeper or nanny knocked on the door to get the day started. John wished he had all the time in the world every time but wouldn’t trade the moments he had with her for anything, no matter how quickly they went. “Look me in the eyes, my sweet girl.” His thumb found her clit between them and pressed until she threw her head back.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” she panted as she knocked her forehead against his. John wouldn’t even dare to think to stop as she came undone around him and his own finish followed instantly. He fell back against the pillow, her lips on his the entire time, and stroked her cheek gently as he tried to regain control of his breathing. “Think they’ve got five more minutes in them so we can-” The sound of one baby crying pierced the tranquility followed in quick succession by the other. 

“That’s a no,” he remarked with a smile. “They probably think if they cry loud enough, you won’t make them dress all fancy and go to church.”

“They are always perfectly well behaved at church.” Butter’s barking joined the cacophony and the bubble was fully burst. “If you let him out and start the coffee, I can change diapers and get their clothes out.” He gave her bottom a gentle pat as she begrudgingly let him slip out of her. 

“Hey, Spook?” Cass turned from where she was slipping her underwear on. “I love you.” Unable to keep herself from blushing, she pecked him one last time before the craziness of the day settled in. 

“Hey, John?” He hummed with delight as his nose rubbed against hers. “I love you, too.”

----

True to her word, the twins behaved like angels at their first Easter mass. Gale had only tried to kick his shoes off for a few minutes and Penelope had only required John to make silly faces through one hymn. Cass had rolled her eyes on their way out the door as her husband produced two stuffed bunnies from behind his back and tucked them between their fingers. She had reminded him they each had a whole basket of stuffed bunnies waiting to be opened by the fireplace and probably many more arriving as gifts later in the day. One more from their dad couldn’t hurt was all he had to say.

The house was near mayhem when they arrived back. Caterers had taken over the kitchen, their house manager Alice was leading a small army in pillow fluffing and men with white gloves were polishing glasses in the dining room. John was once again reminded how differently he and his wife had grown up.

“Mr. and Mrs. Egan, Happy Easter, I hope you had a wonderful morning.” Alice reached for Cass’s purse and gloves, taking them before smiling at the sleeping twins who each had a head on one of their father’s shoulders. “I can have Joan take them off your hands, sir.” 

“It’s quite alright, Alice, I think the three of us are going to find a cozy spot on the beach to keep out of my lovely wife’s way.” 

“Perhaps someone could find them an umbrella and blanket and chair?” Cass inquired as she began to walk towards the kitchen, handing Alice her hat as well along the way. “How’s the ham looking? It smells wonderful.”

“Yes, ma’am, we’ll get the beach set up for them. And the ham should be ready to carve exactly as we scheduled dinner for.” John side stepped around a group carrying boxes down the hall. “That would be the two options for porcelain Mrs. Cooper sent for your consideration.”

“Porcelain?” John thought it was a simple family dinner. He didn’t think it would be such an affair when Cass broached him with the idea of hosting.

“Yes. And if I pick the wrong one then I will never hear the end of it.” She turned back to Alice. “I’ll need to see a complete place setting of each one.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll have them get right on it.” 

“What happened to you not wanting to be reduced to a housewife?” John asked as he walked towards the back door, Cass opening it for him and following him down the back steps and onto the sand. 

“I just want everything to be perfect today. I’ll be back to the Spook you know and love as soon as this is over.” 

“First, I love all of you, all the time. Second, I heard you talking to Alice and Joan about hiring more staff, that word is honestly beyond my comprehension, when we go back to Virginia.” Cass took Penelope from him and laid her gently on the shaded blanket that had been set up, her hand brushing over her curls and kissing her forehead gently. 

“And? You don’t want the help?”

“I thought the two of us were getting by quite well on our own.”

“I can’t put off going back to work any longer and I want someone I know and trust with them during the day. And if Alice or Joan are watching them, then they need someone else to do the things they have been doing.” Sure her and John had figured out a rhythm. But eventually Cass needed to get back to doing the work she loved. Rediscover who she was just as Cass and not just as John’s wife or her children’s mother. “Besides, they aren’t watching them so I can go to tea or try on dresses. I need to get back in there. You know what they’ve been saying about Korea.”

“Is that what you’ve been worried about? It’s a few years from anything active, Cass, if anything at all.” She wasn’t used to the anxiety that coursed through her veins after she had the twins. Wasn’t used to feeling her chest so heavy when she thought about how hard this world was going to make it to protect them. 

“Yes, but if I can even do one thing to help prevent them from having to live through a war…” She trailed off and wiped angrily at her eyes, lifting Penelope against her chest and kissing the top of Gale’s head where he still rested against John. “I don’t want them to ever have to experience anything like what we went through.” He gathered her into his side and kissed her temple.

“We went through that so they could live in a better world,” he said softly. “Came out the other side because right here, right now is where we belong.” She looked up with a laugh as she noticed Butter trotting his way over to them, his nose sniffing at Gale and Penelope before he plopped on his side in the shade. 

“If it bothers you, I’ll tell them all to go home and never come back. The five of us can figure the rest out.” 

“No, they’re fine. It’s just not how we did things in Wisconsin. It’s taking some getting used to.” He had assumed Cass came from money when he met her. The well-manicured nails and silk nightgowns and impeccable table manners cluing him in. He just hadn’t realized he was marrying into a Carolina rice dynasty. It came with multiple homes and polo matches and hunting trips and acres of land and hundreds of employees in the home and around the burgeoning corporation. For so long, Cass had thought marriage and kids were not in the cards for her so the structure of a household was a non-existent problem. But then she had fallen in love with John Egan and married him in London and spent two years dreaming of their future and the comforts of her childhood had found their way in.

“Well, Butter, you keep an eye on these three while I pick out porcelain and tie drapes and whatever the heck else a lady is supposed to do these days.” With one last kiss to the top of her daughter’s head, her son’s head and her husband’s head, Cass was off and pulled into a million directions upon re-entering her home. Whenever she could, she would look out the window at her husband tickling their tummies or helping them put sand in a bucket or carrying them to dip their toes in the water. She knew none of the material things around her mattered. And if it made John more comfortable to get rid of them, she would in a heartbeat. She only needed those three humans and the one furry family member to be happy. To be fulfilled in this life beyond her wildest dreams. Any threats on the horizon be damned.

----

Cass waited anxiously for her parents' new Italian sounding car to pull into the driveway, her siblings, extended family and some of the local friends her and John had found already socializing about the house and grounds. She had taken a sip of her husband’s whiskey she was so nervous. 

“Baby, I know for a fact your dad is going to be too focused on the twins and the other grandchildren running around to even care about the way I carve the ham. And who cares if your mother doesn’t like the color of the shutters? I didn’t spend a whole weekend painting them for her.” He had for Cass. She had spent days deciding between two shades of green that John thought were exactly the same but had provided his minimal input when asked. 

“I rewarded you handsomely for your efforts, Mr. Egan.” John remembered. They hadn’t left their bed for days after Cass couldn’t stand the sight of him sweaty and with a pencil tucked behind his ear working on their house any longer. She had had her way with him and John had taken on many more projects around the house ever since. And every time, his wife was unable to maintain even a shred of decency. 

“I never got that round two you were mentioning this morning, Mrs. Egan,” he mused as he drifted closer and closer until his hands wrapped around the small of her back and her arms draped over his shoulders.

“We have a house full of guests,” she giggled as he nipped gently at her lips. 

“Yes but the babies are occupied which means no little angelic interruptions.” She moaned as he pressed a searing kiss to her lips, her toes curling in her new heels. 

“Not even on Easter Sunday can you two find a sense of decorum?” 

“Shush, Gale, they’re in love,” Marge said with a gentle slap to his arm. If Gale Cleven had a nickel for everytime he had caught the two of them in various stages of passion, he would have been able to use the profits alone to buy a similar house to the one he was standing in.

“Oh, I am so happy you were able to make it!” Cass kissed Gale on the cheeks eagerly and let out a squeal of delight as she wrapped Marge in a hug. “I’ve got you both all set up in the guest room furthest from the nursery so you can hopefully sleep in peace while you’re here.” Before John could even say his own hello, Cass and Marge were off towards the backyard with their heads close together as they whispered. 

“Well, we did always say they’d be thick as thieves,” he remarked as he grabbed the suitcase Marge had abandoned by the door. “Up this way.” Gale smiled and nodded politely at all the strangers that were dressed in black and white, bustling in and out of the kitchen and dining room with haste. He could only imagine how it was driving his best friend crazy.

“Who would’ve thought? John Egan having ten people cook his Easter dinner for him,” Gale teased as John set the suitcase down in the guest room and dropped himself into the armchair by the window. 

“I hear it’s being served on porcelain,” he mused back. Gale settled in the chair across from him. 

“It’s a beautiful house, John. You’ve got to be proud of yourself.” John stared out the window and nodded.

“Yeah, it is. Makes Cass happy to be out here.” It wasn’t that she was unhappy at their home in Virginia but John knew she missed South Carolina. Missed the beach and her family being close by. 

“And are you happy?”

“With her and the kids, always. Just learning this new side to her is all.”

“That seems to be what marriage entails. Learning to love something new everyday.” The hum of a car engine broke the comfortable silence between two old friends and Gale peeked out the window with a low whistle. “Is that a Maserati?”

“That it would be, Buck. You want to come distract my mother in law with your good looks for me?” When John and Cass had their more official wedding last year, Buck Cleven had been the hottest commodity. The women of Charleston hadn’t given him a moment to breathe. 

“No I think you’ve got the Cooper women under control, Bucky.” Gale clapped him between his shoulder blades. “Now where’s that beautiful baby you named after me?”

Cass was at the bottom of the stairs waiting with a baby on each hip, Gale kissing their sprouting curls on his way to find Marge on the beach, and John forgot all about anything negative he had been feeling that day. 

“Say hi Daddy, we were looking for you.” The twins smiled like they always did when they had their parents attention solely on them. The sound of Cass’ voice bringing them a calmness only John could ever begin to relate to. 

“Hi, my little bunnies.” John took Penelope onto his own hip, kissing her cheek around the stuffed bunny ear that was between her teeth, Cass reaching to tuck a few of his curls back into place. “I thought you preferred them all messy.”

“I do but-” the door opened and the words died in her throat. 

“Cassandra Ann, that dog of yours does have a habit of sticking his nose all over the place.” 

“Hi, Mama. Happy Easter to you, too.” John whistled for Butter who came and sat at his side dutifully. “Hi, Daddy.” She pressed a kiss to each of her parents’ cheeks and almost cringed as she saw the line of valets carrying colorful baskets into the backyard. The level of stuffed animals entering her home was reaching a near suffocating level. 

“Oh, John, how handsome you look this afternoon.” Cass rolled her eyes as her mother stepped forward to kiss John’s blushing cheeks.

“Thank you, ma’am, you’re looking very lovely yourself. Sir.” He shook her father’s hand firmly, smiling when Penelope reached for her grandfather instantly. 

“Cassandra, aren’t you going to show me around? I’m very curious as to which place setting you chose.” She looked at John to say I told you so before guiding her mother down the hall. 

“Of course. We can start in the dining room if you’d like.” John felt like a bad father as his son looked at him with wide blue eyes over his mother’s shoulder as they disappeared around the corner but he would make it up to him with something sweet after dinner.

“Can I offer you something to drink, sir?” 

“Whiskey, John, thank you.” While John had had to work his charm hard on Mrs. Cooper to convince her he wasn’t a street urchin there to steal her daughter, Mr. Cooper had taken no convincing to know John was the right man for his daughter. Had sat down for one dinner with the two of them and saw how they looked at each other. How he had kept a hand on her protectively the entire time. Had seen the absolute gratitude in Cass’ eyes that John was alive and next to her every time she looked at him.

“I told Cass you’d be more interested in the grandkids than the way I carved the ham later,” he pointed out as Penelope was filled with utter glee at the way her grandfather was tickling her cheeks with her bunny.

“Cassandra has always been my most perceptive child yet, on occasion, forgets that is one of her own most formidable qualities.” John handed him a glass, bringing them together with a clink before taking a sip. “How is my daughter doing?” 

“This one and her brother keep her busy and she’s looking forward to getting back to work. But she’s good. She smiles everyday, I’ll always make sure of it.” Penelope’s lower lip began to wobble and John gathered her against his chest just as the first tear rolled down her chubby cheek. 

“I can go find the nanny-”

“I’ve got it, sir.” John kissed her forehead gently and she quieted. “She’s just like her mother. Pouts until she gets a kiss then she’s fine.” Now she was focused on the fabric of John’s tie and trying to get it into her mouth. Yes, Mr. Cooper thought, Cass had made the perfect decision to marry this man.

“Son, if I may offer a few pointers on carving the ham.”

----

Hours later, after bellies were full and babies were sleepy, the house was beginning to calm down. Cass had shed her stockings and tied her hair back and accepted Marge’s offer to put the twins to sleep. There were people finishing dishes in the kitchen and packing away porcelain in the dining room. Alice was orchestrating the entire effort for which she was grateful, her fingers wrapping around the neck of a bottle of whiskey and heading towards the small fire that was glowing on the beach.

“You hiding from me?” she teased as she dropped a kiss to the top of his head and sat in the chair next to him.

“Never, baby. Was just having a cigarette before coming in to help with bedtime.” Cass wanted him to quit but was starting with not allowing him to smoke around the kids. She handed him the whiskey and took the cigarette from his fingers, inhaling a few times before putting it out in the sand. 

“Marge asked if she could put them to bed for practice. I ran away before she changed her mind,” she giggled. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked around a pull from the bottle.

“Everything.” 

“Spook, you know my ego needs specifics.” He opened his arms, summoning her into his lap, and closed his eyes in peace as her head settled under his chin.

“Not letting me chase you away all those years ago. Not divorcing me when I showed up at your bunk bed in Germany. Our babies.”

“I had very little to do with those two but I’ll take it.” She kissed him gently, lovingly. Without a care in the world and in no rush. “Everything to your liking today?”

“Yes. I promise we won’t host anymore holidays for awhile.”

“You pick the right porcelain?” 

“Of course not.” John laughed and she joined in, taking her own swig of alcohol. “And I was very impressed by your knife skills at dinner.” John kissed the tip of her nose.

“Your dad told me it was important the man of the house not treat it like carving a ham but like he could use the knives to protect his family.”

“Did he?” she asked with a furrowed brow. 

“I think he was trying to convince me to take it more seriously. It worked.” 

“It certainly seemed it did.” Cass twisted her finger around the loose curl in the middle of his forehead as he looked out towards the ocean. “I do have one last ask up my sleeve.” Slowly undoing the buttons of her dress, John was more focused than he had been all day. Between her breasts was an Easter egg with hearts painted on it. 

“I would’ve joined in on the egg hunt had I known, Cass.” 

“Open it.” As soon as he had it in his fingers, her lips were on his jaw and down his neck and he had an inkling what might be inside. He could barely read the words she had written as the blood rushed from his head to between his legs. Round two? His lips were on hers in an instant, John groaning as his hand slid up her thigh and found nothing but bare skin. She made quick work of his belt and zipper, sliding his waistband down just enough to free him. 

“Fuck, baby, no time for teasing.” His hands lifted her hips and he sunk into her with a contented sigh, his lips latching onto her collarbone as she found a steady pace. “Want the neighbors to hear how good I make you feel.”

“John,” she whined as his hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed gently. Unable to hold himself back, he laid her onto the blanket and used the new leverage to increase the pace, her legs hooking around his hips and urging him to go harder and faster. “You’re going to make me cum.” 

“You look so pretty when you cum, baby,” he cooed into her ear as he felt her clenching around him. “That’s my good girl, taking me so well.” His wife looked so good underneath him. Like she truly was made to be his. 

“Fuck, right…there…oh, God,” she arched her back into him as her orgasm washed over her in a waves, John’s hips stuttering as he moaned into her mouth and she took all he had to give her. “I love making you moan.” John was handsome and rugged and all the masculine words that she could think of. But he was also so damn pretty.

“Good thing you’re so good at it,” he said as he nuzzled into the side of her neck. “You’ve worn me out, Mrs. Egan.”

“Can you carry me to bed?” she murmured as her own eyelids were growing heavy. 

“Just let me hold you like this for a few more minutes.”

“Hey, John?” He kissed the side of her neck in acknowledgment. “I love you.”

“Hey, Spook?” She smiled in anticipation. “I love you, too.”

And if Gale earned another nickel as he was closing the blinds that night, no one needed to know.

[tkaulitzlvr]

THE WRONG WAY - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: tom hasn’t been paying you enough attention lately, and, when you finally snap, he can’t understand where you are coming from, until you reach your breaking point. can the issues between you and him be resolved?

content: angst

a/n: pulled this out of my ass lol, i had to rush it because i’m in the middle of another req but it’s nowhere near done after like three hours of writing so i’ll have to finish and post it tomorrow. sorry if there are mistakes, i only proofread veryyy briefly cause i’m so tired rn😭 hope this is okay tho!!

"you don't love me."

i voice the harsh words to the silent room, clearly and with every sense of belief behind my statement. to my discomfort, saying it out loud does not make me feel any more at ease, in fact seeing the way tom’s entire body breaks for a second, processing what i had just said, before trying to cover the hurt on his face up, only suffocates me even more. the lump in my throat only gets bigger, the tension in the air thickening by the second.

"wow." he begins, shaking his head, trying to wrap his head around how i could even come to that conclusion. "that’s an awful accusation." he glances at me, his eyes already glossy, giving me enough of an idea on how much i have hurt him by uttering those four words. however i stick to it, figuring that it is too late to back out now. within me, behind all the anger, all the upset, i feel that it is true. i sense that he no longer feels the same way he did when he met me, all those years ago, the love within his eyes slowly diminishing until it is now long gone.

"and also." he speaks, leaning forward and looking directly into my eyes, staying in his position spread on the end of the other couch. "it's not true. you know it isn't."

the pressure of his gaze leaves me unable to hold eye contact with him, looking away sheepishly into my lap, hoping that somehow the ground could swallow me up. i grit my teeth, locking my jaw in anger, feeling no reassurance from his quick denial of my statement. so i decide to challenge him, standing my ground despite the nausea only growing within me. though his voice seems somewhat certain, i refuse to believe that i am making it up, that it is all in my head. "do i though tom?"

my eyes meet his, except the ones looking into me are foreign. they are angry, a glint of hostility present within them that i had not yet witnessed, this change taking me aback, yet i refuse to look away. he is sad. those eyes, past the resentment in them, i see pain. i see sorrow. i have upset him, far beyond what he intends to let out. he is usually strong, and perhaps right now he thinks that he is keeping this up, yet i can read him like a book, the way his left brow furrows, creating a crease along his forehead, the way his eyes cannot focus on one thing, darting around the room, i can see that he is struggling. and whilst part of me hurts with him, hating to put him through any sort of distress, i need it right now. because i am tired of feeling unloved and unappreciated - regardless of whether tom intends to make me feel this way or not.

he shakes his head, scoffing slightly in disbelief, letting out a shaky sigh, before speaking up, his voice loud, in contrast to the silent room. "what, so i've been lying every single time i’ve told you that i love you, over the past six years that we've been together? mind you, i say that every day, without fail."

i stay silent, my eyes becoming glossy as they quickly tear away from his. he takes my silence as a cue to continue, my sudden belief that he does not love me angering him as he desperately seeks to remind me of every reason why i am in the wrong. "don't i do everything for you? make sure that you're always safe, give you my everything-"

"give me your money, you mean." i reply, cutting him off. i don’t want to seem ungrateful - i appreciate the way tom would spend any amount of money on me if it made me happy. i am thankful for the house he has given me, the vacations he takes me on, the things he buys me, but those things are not the reasons why i fell in love with him. i fell for tom kaulitz. not his money, not his fame, not his profession. i fell for who he is, for him as a person, whether he is rich or poor, yet it feels that day by day i lose a small part of that. i have always understood that his job means that he will be away a lot, but it is hard to be in a relationship with someone that can't always be there, only their fortunes can.

"i’m grateful for what you do for me, really i am, but i'd much rather have time with you than the latest gucci bag, or the newest chanel perfume. if it meant that i would have to live with nothing for the rest of my life, i would do it. don't you understand? i want you - not your money tom! i don't need you to apologise with gifts when i don’t see you all day, i just...i need you." i am desperate, craving for him to hear me out, to understand that it is him that i need, but the way he looks at me in confusion shows me that i am not going to achieve that.

"i thought you liked the things i buy for you. have you been lying?" he completely ignores the point that i have been trying to make, this only fuelling the frustration within me as i exhale shakily, quickly grasping onto the opportunity to argue my point once again.

"i do but that's not the point tom! i like them because i feel like it's all i get from you!" my voice is raising, something which i did not want to happen. shouting never solves the problem, however right now i am far too angry to care. "i just want some of your time, to feel like you actually care! when you're with me, you're here physically, but your mind is always elsewhere. i just miss you. i need to you be mine again, i-"

"look, i’m sorry okay?" he begins, harshly cutting me off and matching the volume in my voice. "i'm sorry that my job is more demanding than others, i’m sorry that it needs a lot of my attention, but i told you this from the beginning. my career is a big part of who i am and things aren't always easy. they get hard, they get tough, but-"

"that's my problem! when things get hard for you, i don't fucking know about it! because you shut me out, every. single. time. i'm your girlfriend, tom. i want to know about your life, i want to help you, but you always run away from me! you spoil me with gifts and money to compensate for every fucking time you leave me in the dark! i don't want it anymore. i just want you to communicate!" i move from the couch, walking to the middle of the room and standing a few feet away from him. his eyes are glued to me, watching my every step, and he is listening to me this time. "am i such a headache to be around, that you can't talk to me? that you can't deal with spending time with me, so instead you spend your money to try and shut me up, because you have so much that no matter what you buy, it doesn't affect you?"

"don't." he voices shakily as i stare into his eyes, his expression more wounded than ever. my words stab into him, hitting him harder than i had anticipated. his fists clench against his thighs, holding every ounce of frustration. though we have argued in the past, i have never seen him this upset, regardless of whether he intends to show it visibly or not. "you know that i don't think of you that way, even for a second. so stop."

"you can't blame me for thinking it tom." i shrug. "you leave me out of everything, i have no idea what's going on in your life anymore-"

“because i'm trying to fucking protect you!" he interrupts, raising his voice once again. his hand slams against the arm of the couch, the sudden contact causing me to wince slightly. "i'm sorry if you feel like i'm hiding things from you. but i know parts of my life would just stress you out and hurt you. don't you get that? i'm trying to save you from the pain-"

"i want the fucking pain!" i fire back. "we are supposed to be in a relationship. do you know what that means? i want to suffer with you. i would choose that, a million times over, if it meant that i could be with you for another day. i want every part of you, the sad, the happy, the angry, i want it all. can't you see that i need you? i hate being left in the dark. i absolutely fucking hate it.”

my voice pierces through his ears, diminishing the tense silence as tom gulps, clenching his jaw and leaning forwards, pinching his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. the rash and quick responses don’t allow me time to calm down, my eyes becoming glossy with tears, the salty liquid staining my cheeks before i can try to hold them back, my weakness just as evident as tom’s. the pain, the upset, the lack of affection that have been feeling all spills out, reeling outwards from within me as i let it out, no longer attempting to hold back.

he looks up, his face softening as he takes in my hurt expression. he has never seen me like this, so broken, and the fact that he is the cause of this pains him even more, his mind coming to the slow realisation that it is up to him to fix this. although he doesn’t fully understand how i could possibly believe that he does not love me, he wants to try, to try and see from my eyes. he lets out a shaky sigh, swallowing nervously before looking into my eyes.

"i would rather feel the sadness, suffer with you." i begin, my voice small as the tears quickly take away my physical strength. "i would do absolutely anything if it means that you will love me, that you will do it with me, tom."

"i don't live a normal life, and i just want to keep you away from the crazy things." he speaks slowly, trying to reason with me, refusing to turn his gaze away from mine. "some people want to hurt me, and i would never forgive myself if someone ever did anything to harm you."

i try to wipe my tears and calm my breathing, wrapping my arms around my small frame in an attempt to comfort myself, quickly becoming overwhelmed with the situation. but my mind acknowledges tom’s change in tone. not only is he more gentle and calm, he also seems sorry, like he now recognises where he went wrong.

"what do you want me to do?" he whispers, defeated as his tired eyes meet mine. he is no longer angry. he is desperate, longing to resolve this. "i'll do anything. i- i can't lose you. you're my world, schatz, and i'm sorry if i haven't shown it, but you are everything to me."

though there are millions of things i could say, i stay silent, standing still across the room. my heart clenches painfully, hurting at the sight of him so distraught, as his mind considers the dreaded idea of what losing me would be like. his world is crumbling before him, the one thing he seeks to protect seeming to slip through his fingers. i have never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so desperate, and whilst it comforts me to know that he is slowly letting down the walls that have prevented me from truly being with him, it saddens me to see him in such a distraught state.

"all i've ever wanted is to keep you safe. to keep you happy, liebe, because if you're happy then so am i. but you deserve more than this." he points to himself angrily, letting out a shaky sigh. "more than this fucking idiot, who doesn't even know how to love. i’m so sorry if i've done it the wrong way and made you feel like i don't care. because you shouldn't for a second think that i don't love you."

everything that i have been craving to see is happening in front of me. i have longed to see him open up, to break down the barriers that separate us both physically and mentally. i don’t want him to be strong all the time, and it hurts that he feels he has to be. the tears fall from my bloodshot eyes once again - this time out of sadness for him. i hurt with him, hating to see him so upset, but i understand his pain, his anger, and i feel every emotion along with him. for the first time in forever, i feel connected with him.

after a few moments of silence, he stands up, slowly walking towards me. i refuse to meet his gaze, fearing that i will break down once again i realise how hurt he truly is, and looking into his eyes will certainly display every emotion amongst his beautiful features. his hand brushes tenderly against my cheek, wiping a fresh tear that had fallen. he reaches towards my chin, using his pointer finger to angle my face upwards so it meets with his eyes. he towers over me, taking in the sorrow etched upon my face, before tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ears, gently caressing my cheek with his lips slightly parted, shaky breaths escaping from them.

"please, look at me." he whispers, gazing longingly into my eyes. i comply, shifting my own eyes to the deep brown ones in front of me. they are full of adoration, and i feel the man that i fell in love with slowly coming back to me. "i love you, so so much, please believe me schatz. you are the most important person in my life, and i am so sorry that i've made you feel the opposite way." he chokes up, his voice shaky as i can tell he is on the verge of tears.

i listen to him, allowing every word to sink in, as it is now no longer hard to trust what he says. i feel what i have been desperate to - love. i feel truly appreciated, like i am able to confide in him like i once could. though frustrated it took the both of us to get to this state to make him speak his mind, i appreciate him opening up, his apology making up for the lost time. there is no shame in being fragile, and through his entire conversation, we have both learned this, a new found appreciation for each other gained as i feel safe again.

"don't feel like you have to keep things to yourself. i’m your girlfriend, i'm supposed to be here for you, and i'll gladly do it, but you have to talk to me." i respond, lacing my hand with his. a soft smile spreads across his face, contrasting with his bloodshot eyes whilst he slowly nods.

"i hear you. i’m so sorry baby. i love you." he whispers, pulling me into a tight hug as his hands lace together around my waist. he lets out a sob onto my shoulder, my heart breaking at the sound. he clutches onto me tighter as if i may slip away, my own eyes tearing up once again. it has been a while since i felt like this. i feel loved, and it is all that i have ever wanted from the start.

he slowly pulls away, resting his forehead against mine and looking into my eyes through his eyelashes. after a few seconds, he leans inwards, until his lips touch mine. the kiss is gentle, carrying every promise to love and cherish me like he has failed to do, and i gladly accept it, kissing back quickly and wrapping my arms around his neck. he pulls away, planting a few pecks on my lips once again, his breath shaky as the remnants of tears stick to his cheeks. i slowly wipe them away, not breaking eye contact as i do so, gently caressing the soft skin until any trace of sadness is lost within our newfound love for each other.

a soft smile graces his lips, failing to wither as he kisses me once again, the same amount of passion as the last, making up for the lost affection as i feel more treasured than ever. this is all I have ever wanted, to feel like he cares, and now that i am feeling his affection, my mind is oozing with contentment, the feeling almost foreign it has been so long.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[gyummigon]

☆ moonlight | beomgyu

beomgyu x fem!reader

୨୧ word count: 2k ୨୧ genre: very very fluff, friends to ? ୨୧ n/a: writing this brought me back to life. maybe i rambled too much, but just letting the words flow made me feel warm and i hope it shows. on the other hand, english isn’t my first language, so i ask for your understanding for possible grammatical errors and such.

Thank you for the music by ABBA was playing on the radio in your father's old, beat-up truck. You were lying in the back of the car with Beomgyu beside you, enjoying the view of the night sky and the cold winter breeze that painted colorful puffs on his cheeks. A tattered blanket, that you had grabbed before leaving home in a hurry, lay under their bodies, which were close enough to give you goosebumps.

The engine of the car made your body vibrate. You sank into your thoughts for a few minutes, admiring Beomgyu's beauty as he stood with his gaze lost in the firmament. The moon cast a soft silvery light on his eyes, evoking a feeling of tenderness and serenity in them.

You were aware that the serenity that radiated from him on this particular night could only be found in similar circumstances, at specific times, in specific places, and with the necessary level of intimacy. Then his mouth would pause slightly, no longer showing his teeth in those flashy smiles that were typical of him, his lips would relax to the rhythm of his mind and a calm line would take its place, leaving his playful and joyful side until the moment he felt ready to awaken it again.

Beomgyu's boisterous personality used to be a constant presence and you were more than accustomed to it, but when it disappeared, you couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath the surface. Who was he when he was alone, with no one to smile at or joke with? Who was he when he was lost in his thoughts, completely vulnerable to his thoughts and his surroundings?

As you stared at him, you felt as if you were sinking into a pool of endless calm and compassion, unable to be anyone without the answers to these questions. This made you feel exposed, as if you had little of yourself and the breeze kissed the innermost part of your mind, taking away everything coherent and leaving only that which involved the boy next to you; your longing to share with him the purest, the most intimate, wanting to belong to each other and to find through touch the most delicate parts of his soul.

You shook your head slightly, trying to dispel the thoughts that were beginning to overwhelm you. It didn't feel right to have this kind of longing for him that went beyond friendship, but your feelings had grown to a point where you couldn't do anything to stop them.

Beomgyu broke the silence with a soft, warm laugh, his voice echoing in your ears and making you shiver. "What are you thinking about?" he asked and his hand brushed over yours in a gentle gesture. Your heart pounded at his touch as you fought to keep your composure.

"I was thinking... about how profoundly calm you become at times," you replied, trying to sound casual. Beomgyu nodded, but his gaze remained fixed on you, as if he could see through your words. "You haven't said much," you muttered and looked up, unable to bear the closeness of his face.

A silence stretched between the two of you for a few seconds, causing you to look at him with furrowed brows. Beomgyu's lips curved into a relaxed smile when you met his eyes again. Now, from the side, you could see the wind ruffling his beautiful face, making the strands of his messy hair dance and expose more of his smooth skin, tempting you to reach out and stroke it.

He looks spectacular, you thought.

"Do you mind if I snuggle with you?" Beomgyu suddenly said, moving closer to you and wrapping his arms around you.

You felt overwhelmed by his presence, by his warmth burning in and out of you; but you said nothing, just gave him a forced smile. Beomgyu didn't seem to notice your discomfort, or maybe he did, but decided not to make a big deal out of it. Instead, he made himself comfortable and invited you to do the same.

"Look at the stars," he said, pointing to the sky. "They are so beautiful."

"They are," you replied, leaning back against his chest and feeling his heart beat against your cheek. You both lay in silence, enjoying each other's warmth and the soft sound of the background music mixed with the sound of the car's engine. From time to time, Beomgyu would move slightly, shifting his position or adjusting the blanket to better cover you. Every time he did that, your heart skipped a beat.

"I'm pretty as well, right? " you heard him ask with a smile.

For some unknown reason, his question made you blush and you looked away, trying to focus on the sky. Too drunk on your own emotions, too unaware of what you were showing to keep this situation casual.

"So annoying," you said lowly, referring to your own reaction and not wanting Beomgyu to hear it, which was illogical considering the short distance between your bodies.

"There, there, don't be mad. Smile," he said as he brought one of his fingers to your cheek and stretched it upwards. "Smile."

The touch of his hand on your skin was warm and soft. You froze for a moment, feeling fragile and disoriented under his touch. It had always been like this, a constant game in which you were the cold one and Beomgyu was the warm one. It was not difficult for him to destroy you bit by bit, he was clueless and naive and had no idea what he was doing with such simple actions. However, sometimes you had the feeling that he knew more than he was showing and did not hesitate to take advantage of it.

You fought not to flinch and smiled a forced smile, not avoiding the bitterness in the gesture. Beomgyu didn't ignore it, he jerked his hand away and gave it a shake.

"Agh, how horrible. Better not do it again," he joked.

"You know, you're cute, but too unbearable," you murmured the last sentence between your teeth, almost whispering. Although he understood you, Beomgyu moved his face closer to yours, as if he wanted to hear you better, and batted his eyelashes.

"Is that a compliment?" He raised his eyebrows as the smile on his face became more pronounced. Before you could answer, he added, "Oww, you're pretty too."

You almost laughed at his nerve to speak in a sly voice when his ears were flushed. You didn't want to get your hopes up. You knew that Beomgyu was a kind and caring boy for everyone, not just for you. Maybe it was just that you were reading too much into his gestures and his words. Maybe you were the one who was in love.

You remained silent for a few seconds, and when you finally found the courage, you stepped back a little and looked at him. "So, how did your date with that girl turn out?"

Beomgyu looked at you for a few seconds, a little surprised by the sudden topic. You didn't want to ruin the moment, and you certainly didn't want to involve your feelings in the confidentiality that his friendship granted you, but you couldn't ignore the question that hovered in your head any longer.

"Um... a bit boring," he answered thoughtfully, "I don't think we're very compatible or whatever".

"I see," you said, feeling a small relief at his words. "Well, I'm sure you'll find someone you can connect with or whatever."

Beomgyu smiled but said nothing more. Silence spread between the two of you again, but this time it felt different, less natural. You felt exposed to his gaze, but you couldn't look away. It was as if he was reading your thoughts, as if he knew everything in your mind: his name throbbing in every nook and cranny.

To say that you were fascinated by his existence would be an understatement. You found in Beomgyu what you sometimes found in art, in the sublime, in the possibility of a new world; what you could only find in one of your alternate mental realities, which, not free of anguish, were exquisite in their own way.

For you saw it, and you were then a foolish romantic, admiring with your intoxicated eyes the features of your beloved, revealing the magical and the beautiful as a piece of heaven made of flesh. And there was no better time than the night, when the moonlight revealed the true beauty of his soul and alluded to the most intimate secrets that lay hidden.

In your trance, then embarrassing but no less inspiring and dreamy, you heard Beomgyu call your name and it was as if every deep part of you was called from the outside and he took possession of it. You looked at him and lost yourself for a second in the small smile on his face.

"When I look at you... do I look like a fool too?"

"No, you always look like a fool," you replied, hiding your embarrassment behind a wry smile and feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

Beomgyu frowned at your words but didn't seem to be bothered. Instead, he moved a little closer, took your hand in his and looked into your eyes. "I feel the same way," he mused in his soft, warm voice.

You didn't have time to think about the meaning of those words because the mood was interrupted when the song on the radio changed to Champagne Supernova by Oasis. Beomgyu's deep, leisurely voice following the lyrics of the song reached your ears and crept up to a place in your chest. You were instantly hit by a feeling of immense bliss, so intense and superior to all others that you thought you would never experience such a sensation again. After a life of remorse and regret, you finally found a sense of belonging in that harmonious voice. And for that brief moment, for those minutes of glory that the song lasted, you belonged to the world, to Beomgyu, to heaven, and to everything that witnessed that great act of love and longing.

After a while, the van stopped and your father leaned out of the window to let you know that you had reached your destination. With a sigh, Beomgyu got up and helped you out of the car. As you walked together towards the lake, you couldn't help but look at him sideways and fill your head with the cheesiest thoughts you probably ever had for a guy.

"Maybe you should watch the road instead of me?" he asked in a mocking tone when he saw you almost tripping over your own feet.

"Shut up," you snorted a little embarrassed as you rolled your eyes. "Just... you have something suspicious on your face."

When he heard you, Beomgyu's eyes went wide. "What? Take it off."

"Let's see..." Beomgyu paused and looked at you with uneasy eyes as you approached him. You looked at his face for a moment before hitting his forehead with your index finger and walking away. "I can't, it's stupid..." you said with a tone of false resignation that made him laugh and kick you gently.

Before you could go any further, he grabbed your arm and gave you a teasing smile. "Want to see who gets to the lake first?" he proposed, pointing to the path that stretched out before you. "Last one there has to dip their feet in the cold water."

"You're still like children..." you heard your father say a few meters away, causing the two of you to separate for a moment. You looked at Beomgyu, whose cheeks were slightly flushed, and you did not hesitate to make fun of him.

"Sir, your daughter is bothering me," he said before starting to run.

"Hey, that's cheating!"

© gyummigon | all rights reserved. copying or adaptation prohibited

[widefuturesss]

And I think I'm at a place where I am unlearning the form of love I have been taught. Especially in my male relationships. I feel I have reached a boiling point with men... I have been feeling entangled in a lot of dynamics I have not necessarily consented to. Felt like I was accepting of romantic elements in a way that I have been conditioned into a passive acceptance. It’s like my male relationships just had to carry that air because I am a woman. It’s easier to just not say anything.... swallowing my own discomforts felt easier than making the other person uncomfortable in their actions. I realise I was conditioned into being a woman (once girl) who doesn't really know how to say no. A woman that just smiles in prayer of a pleasure that transcends the surface level of what is being proposed to me. In prayer of a pleasure that is just love, love as in unity, love as in connection, vulnerability, safety, support. Love beyond a lust that materialises me down to my body. Down to me as some jezebel.

[simpforfandom231]

Throwing shit PART 2

Well, here it is. It’s very short but meh who cares

———————————————————————-

The air hung heavy with tension as Evan’s question lingered in the room like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the uneasy silence that followed. Reneé shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her gaze darting between Evan and the closed bedroom door where Y/N had disappeared moments earlier.

“Evan, it’s really nothing,” Reneé finally replied, her voice strained with forced nonchalance.

But Evan wasn’t about to let it go that easily. Leaning forward, he fixed Reneé with a piercing stare, his eyes searching hers for any hint of the truth. “Come on, Reneé. I can tell something’s bothering you. You can tell me.”

Reneé chuckled nervously, her discomfort growing with each passing moment. “It’s just… relationship stuff, you know? Nothing you need to worry about.”

Evan’s expression softened, his gaze softening with what he hoped was sympathy. “Well, if you were with me, I can promise you, you wouldn’t have to deal with all that drama.”

Reneé couldn’t help but laugh at Evan’s audacity, though her amusement was tinged with a hint of disbelief. “Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second. But I’m not exactly the easiest person to live with, you know.”

Evan waved off her concerns with a dismissive gesture, his confidence unwavering. “Please, Reneé. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

Reneé smiled politely, though inwardly she couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort that settled in the pit of her stomach. Evan’s flattery was starting to feel less like genuine praise and more like thinly veiled flirtation, and Reneé found herself growing increasingly uneasy with each passing moment.

But before she could voice her concerns, Y/N’s voice shattered the fragile calm that had settled over the room, her tone dripping with barely contained rage as she emerged from the bedroom like a force of nature.

“Get your filthy hands off her,” Y/N growled, her eyes flashing with fury as she crossed the room in quick strides.

Evan stumbled back in surprise as Y/N grabbed him by the collar, dragging him forcibly out of his seat and pressing him against the wall with a strength that belied her petite frame.

“What the hell, Y/N?” Evan spluttered, his shock quickly giving way to a smug smirk. “You can’t talk to me like that. I’m Reneé’s guitarist, remember?”

Y/N’s grip tightened, her nails digging into Evan’s skin as she leaned in close, her voice low and dangerous. “I don’t care who you are. Keep your hands off my girlfriend and shut your mouth, or I’ll make you regret it.”

Evan chuckled arrogantly, his smirk widening into a mocking grin. “Face it, Y/N. You and Reneé fight so much, eventually she’s going to realize she’s better off with me.”

Reneé’s heart sank at the words, her own frustration boiling over as she struggled to intervene. “Y/N, let him go. He’s not worth it.”

But Y/N was beyond reasoning, her anger reaching a boiling point as she turned on Reneé with a look of betrayal. “You’re defending him again? After everything he’s done?”

Reneé opened her mouth to respond, but before she could utter a word, Evan cut her off with a sneer. “Face it, Y/N. You’re nothing compared to me. Reneé deserves better.”

Y/N’s eyes flashed with fury, her grip tightening on Evan’s collar as she dragged him towards the front door with a steely determination.

“Get out,” Y/N spat, her voice dripping with venom as she shoved Evan roughly towards the exit. “And don’t you dare set foot in this house again.”

Evan stumbled out into the hallway, his expression a mixture of shock and indignation as Y/N slammed the door shut behind him with a resounding thud.

Turning back to Reneé, Y/N’s expression softened, her anger giving way to a profound sense of protectiveness as she approached her girlfriend with a determined stride.

“And as for you,” Y/N said, her voice soft but firm as she took Reneé’s hand in her own. “If I ever catch you even thinking about him again, I’ll make sure he regrets it. Understand?”

Reneé nodded, her heart swelling with gratitude and love for the woman standing before her. “Understood.”

With a final nod of assurance, Y/N led Reneé back towards the bedroom, her grip firm but gentle as she ushered her girlfriend inside.

“Now, get undressed and shut your mouth,” Y/N said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “And if I ever hear his name in your mouth again, I’ll make him bleed from his eyes.”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 21 - Skele-Gro

@wolfstarmicrofic March 21, word count 587

CW- Broken bones, bone remove, bone regrowth.

Remus raced through the halls, outstripping Peter even with his aching joints that screamed at him to stop torturing them. But he pressed on. He had to get to the Hospital wing. Get to Sirius.  

Sirius had been hit by a Bludger while playing Quidditch. It had hit him solidly in his side, and even though Remus was sitting in the stands, he still heard the sound of breaking bones.

He blasted through the wooden doors, nearly causing Madam Pomfrey to drop the potion bottle she had in her hand. 

“Mr Lupin!” She chastised. But she didn’t ask him to leave. For near enough six years, Sirius or one of the other Marauders had been at his side after each full moon, and she knew it was pointless trying to stop him. 

He recognised the bottle she had begun decanting into a glass tumbler for Sirius to drink. 

He looked past her to the bed. Sirius lay there, perfectly still, trying hard not to let his pain or discomfort show on his face. 

“Why does he need Skele-Gro?” He asked, just as his eyes trailed to where the Bludger had smashed into him. The blanket seemed oddly hollow. He reached his fingers out to see for himself, but Madam Pomfrey caught his hadn’t before he could get much further. 

“Best not dear. Don’t worry, though. He’ll be good as new by the morning.” She added when she saw his devastated expression. 

“What happened?” He asked, voice cracking with the emotion he was feeling. 

“The bones were unfortunately beyond repair. I was forced to remove them and start again.” She helped Sirius to swallow down the viscous potion. He grimaced at the texture and flavour. 

“Can I say with him?” He begged quietly, trying to force the tears back that were attempting to break free. She nodded.

“Best to sit at the other side, though.” She warned before pulling the privacy curtains around them. 

“Padfoot,” His voice came out high and strained. Sirius just shook his head slightly, wincing at the pain it caused. 

“Don’t Moony. Can—can you just sit with me and hold my hand for a bit?” He asked, forcing the corner of his mouth to twitch up in an attempt at a smile. 

Remus immediately sat and carefully clasped Sirius’s hand in his own, stroking his knuckles tenderly. Sirius let out a sigh of relief. And after a few minutes. Fell asleep. Remus wondered if the Medi-Witch had given him a sleeping potion so he didn’t mess up his regrowing ribcage. 

At some point, Remus must have dozed off, as he could now hear Sirius cheerily chatting with James and Peter. Remus blinked a few times as he woke. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He asked, his mouth a little dry. Sirius reached over and handed him a goblet of water. He took a grateful glug and handed it back. It was then that he realised Sirius was moving his right side. “How long was I asleep?” 

“All night, I think. But look all healed.” Sirius beamed at him as he yanked up the side of his pyjamas, showing off his perfectly normal-looking chest. Remus let out a sigh of relief and felt a small squeeze of his hand. He looked down. Sirius’s hand was still clasped in his own. His eyes flicked to Sirius’s face. Sirius winked at him and gave his hand another squeeze as he turned back to James and described how weird it was to feel you’re bones being removed.    

[millersdjarin]

Some Invisible String

Chapter IV: When You're Young, You Just Run

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (afab)

Rating: E (eventually)

Summary: Ten years after Reader left Joel for reasons he still doesn't know, they find themselves together again in a town called Jackson. Joel has questions he's too afraid to ask; and Reader dreads having to give the answers.

Chapter length: 4.2k

Warnings/Tags: injury recovery, light angst

Chapter III

Series Masterlist

notes: second to last chapter ahhh! thank u for reading and enjoying this fic with me, you're all just great humans!

Joel takes me up a nearby hill outside of the town’s walls, through old trails, over fallen trees and across the crunchy snow. I wrap my arms around him, pressing the side of my face into the back of his jacket, and I tell myself that it’s to shelter my face from the oncoming icy wind. 

The view up here is incredible, stretching across the entire town and all the way to the hydro-plant beyond. Mountains surround us, covered in white, with light grey clouds hanging low over them and blue skies higher up. I can see birds of prey soaring up above us; could probably hear them if I listened closely enough. Despite the wind and the gentle crunch of Felix’s hooves on the snow, it’s so silent out here. 

These days, silence isn’t necessarily the same thing as safe, but Joel tells me that this is one of his regular patrol routes, and he knows it well. If anything’s hiding somewhere, he knows where they’ll be. 

So I just enjoy it. 

Eventually we find our way to a building that looks half-snowed under. It’s not entirely covered, though; it’s a lookout post, probably used for fire watch way back when. A decent size, but only a square, the windows are mostly boarded up, except for one on each wall. Joel unlocks the door and the five padlocks that hold it shut. Before leading Felix inside, he helps me down, holding my weight until I’m stable. 

Once we’re all in, and Felix is munching happily on the net of hay that’s already strung up in here, I take a moment to look around. There’s a hunting rifle propped up in the corner, along with some ammunition, and a bow sitting next to it with a few arrows strewn across the floor. A wicker bench, like something from a garden furniture set, is in front of one of the windows, complete with a pillow and a blanket. In the other corner there’s a fold-up chair beside a locked case, presumably full of more supplies.

“We keep it stocked for an emergency,” Joel explains, leading me over to the bench. I can manage without my crutches now, but the cold makes it harder, so he supports me around my waist until I’m sitting down. “People’ve got stuck here in blizzards before.” 

“Thought you said this place was safe?” I joke. 

He chuckles and grabs the blanket, wrapping it carefully around my shoulders. “It is. I promise. Here, put your leg up.” He gestures for me to turn in my place, taking a gentle hold of my ankle. Following his guidance, I lift up my leg and grimace at the discomfort. It feels better for having it up, though. 

“Warm enough?” Joel asks. 

“For now,” I say. “Depends how long you keep me here.” 

“You make it sound like I’m holding you prisoner,” he pulls across the fold-out chair, takes off his backpack before sitting down opposite me. 

“I mean, I can’t exactly leave on my own right now,” I smirk, gesturing to my leg. 

He reaches into his backpack and pulls out his canteen. “How’s it feeling?” 

“Better. A lot better.” 

“Amazing what a little rest can do, huh?” 

“Yeah. You’d know.”

He looks up at me and raises an eyebrow. “Really, with the sarcasm?” 

“We all know you don’t know how to just stop and rest,” I say. “Don’t think I’ve seen you chill out since…well, ever.” 

He holds up his flask like it’s proving a point, and gestures to the room around him. “What does it look like I’m doin’ now?” 

The light from the windows surrounds us, casting shadows over his face. His cheeks are flushed pink from the cold, his lips just a little blue. It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts enough to respond, but before I can, he reaches into his pack and pulls out two…whisky glasses? 

When he opens his flask and pours it, I expect to see water. But, nope. A golden amber liquid flows out into the glasses, and the smell hits me in an instant. 

Yup, that’s whisky alright. 

“Joel,” I gasp teasingly, “are you usually such a rebel on patrol?” 

Grinning lopsidedly, he hands me one of the glasses. “This ain’t a patrol,” he says. I take it from him, and our fingers brush together for a second. “And it’s good for warmth.” 

“Ah. And here I thought you were finally going to chill out.” 

“Alright, alright,” he shakes his head and uses his own glass to gesture to mine. “Drink.” 

“What are we drinking to?” 

He doesn’t answer. He looks up and takes a good sip, smacking his lips after he’s swallowed. I watch the movement in his throat; his Adam’s apple bobbing down then up again. His eyes follow the glass as he lowers it again. 

I wait for him to speak. Nervous, I lift my own glass to my lips and take a sip. It’s good. The best I’ve had in years, actually. The warmth goes all the way down my throat and to my insides, spreading through me in an instant. It makes me shiver in the best way. “Damn,” I say into the quiet. “That’s good shit. Strong, though.” 

Joel nods in agreement. “Best in my collection.” 

“Collection, huh? You’re living it up here in Jackson.”

“Sure am,” he smiles, wry. Tips his glass at me, then takes another sip. A small moment of quiet passes. “What brought you to Wyoming?” He asks then, surprising me. “Were you comin’ to Jackson?” 

“No,” I almost laugh. “How would I have known about it? And besides, if I’d known there were so many people here I’d have stayed well away.” 

“People find us in all sorts of ways. You’d be surprised how fast news travels.” 

I shrug a shoulder and take another drink. 

“So where’d you go?” He asks. Then, as if he wanted to word it differently, “I mean—where’ve you been? Since you…since we parted ways?”

“Here and there. I wanted to go South for the winter, but my plans went South instead, I guess.” 

“You were alone when we found you,” he says, glancing up at me. “Have there been…any other groups since the old days? Friends…partners?” 

I shake my head. For a moment, my thoughts are too bleak to say anything. I think of what it was like to be a hunter. It was hell. Carnage every day and night. Tommy and I used to talk of leaving; Joel was always reluctant, saying that we were safer staying put. He was probably right—that is, if my feelings hadn’t gotten in the way. 

After that, it seemed better to be alone. 

“No,” I answer eventually, staring solemnly down at my nearly-empty drink. It’s giving my head a nice buzz. A little burn in the back of my throat. If I really let myself, I could believe that we're in a cabin in the mountains during normal life, on vacation, sitting and enjoying a drink on the stoop before heading to bed. 

“You…you’ve been alone this whole time?” 

“Yeah,” I sigh. 

He’s surprised into silence, it seems. 

I glance up at him and catch him staring. He looks away straight away, but I see something on his face. Something sad. A slight crease in his brow, his mouth open a little like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing; like what he’s hearing devastates him. 

“Jesus Christ,” he curses eventually, just a breath. Staring at nothing, he shakes his head. “You survived on your own all this time.…”

“Yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t have survived this,” I motion to my leg, “if I’d been alone last week. But other than that…yeah. Just me. Sometimes it’s easier like that. Easier to slip past people unnoticed.” 

He still looks upset. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, then closes it again. I want him to look at me so badly that it hurts. I want him to turn to me and let the morning sunlight shine on his face and make all the coldness around me fade away. 

I never thought I’d see him again. I thought I was dying, I thought I was hearing things when his voice came to me. 

“Joel…” I start, finding a lump in my throat I hadn’t noticed before.

“You didn’t have to leave,” he says before I can say any more. Finally, he looks at me, and there is so much sadness and regret in his eyes that it actually hurts. “You hear me?” He asks. “You never had to leave. Back then. You could’ve stayed.” 

“Joel…I already told you, I couldn’t let myself…” 

He sighs. Looks away again, down at his glass, shaking his head over and over so much that he must be getting dizzy. 

“Joel,” I say again. It feels like the only thing I can say that makes sense. “You don’t…we don’t have to talk about this…” 

“Yes, we do.” 

“…Okay. Yeah. You’re right.”

“I need you to hear me,” he says. Then his eyes meet mine, and it’s different. More intense, purposeful. I couldn’t look away even if I tried—even if I wanted to. “You didn’t have to leave. You told me why you left, and I’m telling you, it wasn’t…you didn’t need to.” 

I shake my head. “I did,” my voice comes out as nothing but a whisper. “I did, Joel. I couldn’t—I couldn’t keep how I felt to myself, I couldn’t keep it in check…” 

“Goddamit, you’re not—you didn’t have to keep it in check!” He raises his voice just slightly. “I’m trying to tell you that I…I had those feelings, too. Okay? It—it wasn’t just you.” 

Oh. 

I freeze. 

Oh. 

“…Oh,” because suddenly the racing chaos of my mind is silenced to just that one syllable. 

He holds my eyes for another long, piercing moment, then looks away. Briefly he seems to consider something, his jaw working away as he thinks, and then he puts his glass on the floor and runs a hand over his hair. Jesus. The silver flecks in it are shining in the sunlight.

“I get why you thought you had to leave,” he says, quiet again. “I do. And honestly, I’m not sure I could say I wouldn’t’ve done the same thing if I were you. But I…if you’d just told me back then, if I’d known…” 

Somehow, I manage to swallow the emotion in my throat enough to say, “Would it have made a difference?” 

“It would have made every difference.” He says, with a tone that says Are you kidding me? 

“Oh,” again. Dumbly. “But…it’s not like we could’ve…we could never have been…” I know what I’m trying to say, but it won’t come out. How do I express that I just never saw a way for a relationship to work? That I never saw how we could possibly fall in love and be together and act like everything was normal, like there wasn’t enough blood on our hands to fill a bathtub? 

I close my mouth and regroup for a second. Or, try to. 

“I just,” I say, my voice coming out smaller than I’d expected, “I thought I was protecting you.” 

Resting his elbow on his knee, he runs his hand over his mouth, rubs it across his beard. He does it a few times as he stares ahead at nothing again, deep in thought. 

I watch him, silent. Waiting. 

Then, he takes a breath. “Do you still feel that way now?” He drags his eyes to me, and holds them. 

I swallow heavily. Wide-eyed, I stare at him. “I…” yes. Of fucking course I do, Joel. I loved you then, and I love you now. I will always fucking love you. “Yeah,” I admit. I can’t lie to him, and really, there’s no point now, anyway. “I do. I never stopped.” 

For so long, he just stares at me. Nervous, I fiddle with the fabric of my gloves, pulling at loose threads, unsure how much damage I’m causing to them because I can’t fucking tear my eyes away from Joel’s, despite the fact his gaze is making me lose my mind. I decide to take the gloves off, suddenly feeling closed-in by them.

I keep trying to speak, to fill the silence somehow, to try and mend a wound that I’m not sure is even still open anymore. It feels like it’s closed: the chasm of questions and pain between us is different now. Lighter. Like how Joel looks lighter these days, without the weight of the world on his shoulders, that’s how it feels in the air between us. 

When he speaks again, I’m not expecting it, despite the fact I’ve been waiting with bated breath. “I missed you,” he says. 

Oh, God.

“I missed you so goddam much, you know that?” His eyes flick to the space on the bench beside me. Without thinking I shift my leg, moving it off so there’s space for him if he wants. 

“I missed you,” I say, my voice cracking a little from the truth of it. The gut wrenching, undeniable truth in just those three words. “Joel, I…” As I’m shaking my head, lost for words that better convey what I’m trying to say, Joel gets up and comes to sit beside me. I turn to face him, finding the backs of my eyes stinging with tears. 

(I swallow them down so hard that it hurts. I’ve cried enough. I’ve cried enough over him.) 

“Hey…” he says, dipping his head to catch my eyes that have somehow fallen from his. He puts his finger under my chin, holding it up and propping his thumb on the point. He took his gloves off when he came inside, so his bare skin is against mine, his fingertips cold and calloused but fuck, so perfect. Catching my gaze again, he looks so deeply into my eyes that it’s like he’s searching my fucking soul. “Don’t look away,” he says. 

I shake my head. My hands are trembling in my lap. Heat is blooming from my stomach to my chest, threatening to burst out of me at any moment because fucking fuck, I never thought Joel would touch me like this. Holding me tenderly, not because he’s patching a wound or inspecting one, not to get me to look in his eyes to stop me from passing out from pain; no, holding me because he wants to, because he wants to be close to me, wants to feel me like I want to feel him. 

At least, I hope that’s what he wants.

The way his eyes flick down to my lips gives me a little more confidence. 

“Joel…” I whisper into the inches of empty space between us. I can feel his hot breath brushing against my face. “Joel, you don’t have to…you don’t have to forgive me, you know that, right?” 

Surprising me, he laughs. Shakes his head a little, smiling at me with crow’s feet around his eyes, the sunlight glinting into the flecks of grey in his beard. Could I reach out and do what I’ve always wanted to? Touch him there, run my hands through the coarse hairs, maybe even feel them on my face? 

“I know I don’t have to,” he says, still chuckling. “But I do. Even though I wish you’d have made a different call, or at least told me you were leavin’…” 

“Joel…” 

“—I’d say we got pretty lucky, findin’ ourselves here again.” 

He’s so close to me now that I have to look between each of his eyes in turn. I could do it forever. He’s so close. I’ve wanted this for so long. 

I never thought I’d see him again. 

Let alone have this. 

“Yeah,” I manage to whisper. “Yeah, I’d say so.” 

“Now, if you don’t mind,” he shifts his hand from under my chin to my cheek, pressing his palm against my jaw and smoothing his thumb over my skin, “I’d like to do what I’ve wanted to do for a damn long time.” 

I nod before he even clarifies. I’d let him do anything. Fucking anything. 

He sighs before closing the distance between us, like he’s relieved. Like he’s saying, Finally. 

My agreement doesn’t make it out of my lips because he’s pressing his to mine, capturing my top one between both of his, and—

Holy shit. 

It’s the softest kiss I’ve ever had. 

So tender. Like he’s just testing the waters. Asking me a question. He barely even lingers for a few seconds. 

But, Jesus Christ. 

I find myself letting out an embarrassing whine when he pulls away and tries to meet my eyes, his eyebrows raising, checking it’s okay; but I can’t wait, I can’t fucking wait or hold back any longer—

I pull him in by the lapels of his coat and push my lips back into his, barely even having time to open my mouth. He groans against me and I feel the vibrations of his voice in my fucking mouth. 

It’s crazed at first, finding a rhythm; messy and uncoordinated but all I can hear is his lips sucking at mine and him trying to find his breath amongst the mess of our mouths. It doesn’t take long for it to flow, to work, to understand the push and pull of each other and I lean into it with everything I have. He’s breathing into my mouth, his breath hot and sweet, and his lips have gone from cold to hot in the blink of an eye. 

He’s got two hands on me now, grasping at the back of my neck with his fingers pushing up into my hair from the roots. My hat slips from my head. He uses the extra space in an instant, gasping happily against my mouth when he can get his fingers up the entirety of the back of my head, threading them into my hair. Goosebumps spread across my skin, and not from the cold.

At last, my hands are where they’ve always dreamed of being. On either side of his face, fingers running through his beard. I can hear it; the hairs brushing across my skin and under my nails. Lightly, I curl my fingers so my nails scratch his jaw. He likes it; moaning softly as he tilts his head to the other side, barely pulling off of me before our mouths are together again. 

Alas, though, as much as my hands have found their home, there is so much more of him to discover. One of them slides back into his hair and I swear to God he fucking whispers my name against my tongue as I take a handful and tug. 

Soon I’m shrugging him out of his jacket after pulling on the zip, and he’s doing the same, undoing each of the buttons on my coat while I suck kisses to his cheek, his beard, wherever I can get to him. 

As soon as our coats are on the floor, he unwinds my scarf and throws it on the floor, and makes the most of having new access to my neck. Hungry, he dives in, his mouth already open as he mouths at the expanse of my neck in long—but not long enough—kisses. 

“Joel, oh, my God,” I gasp when he sucks particularly hard on the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. My hands are in his hair again, anchoring him to me. A bolt of pleasure comes from my neck to my brain, goes straight between my legs. 

It’s as he kisses me again and I start to fumble with the buttons on his flannel that he makes a different noise in the back of his throat. A soft protest, I think. 

“Hey,” he pants, breaking off from my lips and taking a gentle hold of my wrists, stopping them in their work. 

I’m completely out of breath. I’ve not been this out of breath from something good in fuck knows how long. My lips are swollen, I’m sure they’re bright red, and I can feel wet patches on my neck. “You okay?” I ask with my hands settling on his chest. 

He laughs, breathy, “Never better. I just…want to make sure that we…” he has to swallow and catch his breath for a moment. As he does so, he lowers his head and kisses up my forearm, all the way to my elbow. His hands caress the underside of my arm like it’s something he treasures. “God, I want this to go further, but I said we’d be back in an hour and I know Ellie’ll come lookin’ if we’re not…” 

Still panting, I laugh a little. All I can do is press my forehead against his. 

He lifts up my hand and puts it over his heart. Even through the flannel of his shirt I can feel it pounding. A gasp pulls into my throat at the feeling. 

“Besides, it’s cold as hell, and I’d really like you to be warm and comfortable before we…” 

He’s right. Goddamit, he’s right. 

Resigned, I nod. We sit like that for a minute, just coming down, catching our breath. His lips are pinker than I think I’ve ever seen them. I think I was sucking at them even more than I thought I was; the pink colour fades gradually into his skin like smudged lipstick. I wish now that I’d had chance to suck at his neck, to mark him like I’m sure he’s marked me already. 

Then, it hits me. 

That I never even thought I’d get to touch his fucking beard. 

Let alone suck his neck.

“God,” I whisper, mostly to myself. My voice cracks a little, and I’m not sure it’s just from the blinding desire still throbbing between my legs.

“You okay?” 

“I just…yeah. Yeah, I’m…I’m really fucking good.” 

He laughs. Keeping one hand over mine where it stays on his chest, he brings the other up to cup the side of my face. Our foreheads are still resting on each other and his palm is so warm against my cheek. 

I’ve wanted this for so long. 

I have to tell him. He knows, but I have to tell him. “I’ve wanted this for…forever,” I confess, probably only finding my confidence because we’re too close for him to look at me. With my spare hand I hold the side of his neck, the tips of my fingers brushing into his beard. 

“Since the moment I saw you,” Joel’s voice is gravelly as he nuzzles his nose into my wrist, “I wanted this.” 

I can’t help it. 

I lean in and kiss him again. Close-mouthed and quick, but just because I can. 

He takes a deep breath. Holds it a minute, then lets it out, his sweet breath brushing against me once more. I want to taste it again. Feel it going into my lungs. Feel it on my neck, on every inch of me. 

“We should head back,” he says, reluctance coming from his very core. “You’re gettin’ cold.” He squeezes my cold hand. 

“You’re the one who took off all my winter gear,” I retort with a happy smirk. 

“Yeah, alright. You started it, though.” 

“Um, you pushed my hat off as soon as we got started…” 

“The hat thing was a mistake.” 

I remember how it felt to have his hands spread out over every inch of my head, and shudder. “Oh, no, it was no mistake, Joel.” 

He laughs. “Come on. Let’s wrap back up. I’d love to say we can pick up where we left off as soon as we get back, but I’ve got patrols today, and Ellie wanted me to take her riding…” 

I hold the back of his neck. As much as I absolutely would let him take me right here on this freezing wooden floor, I don’t mind waiting. For the first time in decades, I feel like we might just have time for it. Like everything doesn’t have to be a rush. “It’s alright,” I say, meaning it. 

“I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Mm. I’ll hold you to that.” 

“Good.” 

After another—very restrained—kiss, we start wrapping up again and pack up to head back. In the back of my mind as we potter around each other, I feel the horrible tendrils of doubt try to creep in around me. Wondering: what if this is all too good to be true? What if there’s no way we can make this work? I was never even going to stay here, but does he want me to now? Is that where this is going?

But then Joel takes me in his arms before we step back outside, and holds me like it’s the first time. 

And it is, really. He’s only ever done this before when I’ve been hurt or sick. 

And for that moment as his hands press into my back, my mind is quiet.

{chapter 4/5}

notes: thank u for all the support and love on this fic, it means the world to me, i'm so glad you're enjoying it! there's more where this came from and i'm just so grateful to y'all for reading this <3 ps: the next chapter will have smut (YAY)! also, if you're reading this the weekend i post it (21st jan 2023) then please send me smut requests for joel miller or din djarin <3 love u xo

taglist: @rosymythologies @lover1307 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @pinkrose1422 @lavenderhhze @abbyhaslongshorts @trippoverrt @emilianamason

[acourtofthought]

Happy New Year! I hope it's a good one for you! I was wondering, what do you think Azriel's healing journey could look like? he's got a lot to unpack but I can't begin to fathom what that could look like.

Happy New Year to you as well!!! Your question is excellent while also being one that stumps me. As of SF, there's nothing that I feel is directly leading us into Az's story though maybe that will change with CC3? Yet, that idea still throws me off because neither SJM or Bloomsburg have ever formally announced that ACOTAR readers HAVE to start reading the CC series in order to understand the next ACOTAR book. So if there was important information in CC3 that sets up for next ACOTAR book, then you'd there would be some sort of official reading order released, i.e: Read ACOTAR through ACOFAS, then read CC1, then ACOSF, then read CC2 and CC3 before the next ACOTAR book. But they haven't done that and on their websites it still says the series stand alone and you can read them in whichever order you want. Book stores sell them as separate series so casual readers would not have any idea that one series might possibly effect the other. Az has struggles with not ending up with Mor, with his self worth and not having a mate. But I feel there's no current external force that exists for Az right now that would push his story forward (based on the most pressing plot issues), everything he's dealing with is internal and not necessarily something the other characters are aware of, at least not to the point that they would do anything about it (Rhys and Az had it out on Solstice but by the end of the book, with Starfall, with the Rite and with Rhys nearly losing his life, I think they are in a better place). For example, Nesta had a lot of self worth issues and pushed her sisters and Cassian away. As a result, everyone was worried about her, trying to reach out to her, trying to draw her back into the mix of things. And when that failed in the novella, they finally put their foot down in SF and forced her to make changes. Before Chaol's book, he had lost the use of his legs which was the catalyst for his own journey. He separated from the group, something they encouraged, in order to sail to the Torre Cesme to find a healer (and secure allies). Both Nesta and Chaol were dealing with negative feelings, as Az is, but it was at someone else's urging / pushing that was the start of their story. We got hints of a Gwynriel mating bond but no confirmation that he's actually aware of what the spark in his chest meant and nothing to indicate Gwyn is aware of a bond so it's not like the Elucien setup where we see Lucien still pining for her but also getting frustrated with the situation after 2 years "I am not always in this city to see my mate." The last two words dripped with discomfort. Az currently has no frustrated mate that might be ready to finally call him out for the stalemate they've been in. At this point (without knowing how / if CC3 will influence things, my feelings might change after) I think the only thing that could kickstart Az's book is if the Illyrians became a more pressing concern than Koschei, Vassa being called back, the treaty and Beron currently are (since I do feel those things are a Lucien / Elain storyline than Az). I do think Rhys will insist Az be the one to deal with them, that he finally confront his prejudices. And that will put the worst of Az's negative emotions front and center, just as a lot of Nesta's worst emotions were laid out at the start of her book. From there it would be an avalanche of everything else he hates in his life, not having Mor, not getting a mating bond like his brothers did, feeling guilty for the darkness inside of him. We know Cassian and Az planned to continue training the Valkyries so I think we'll see the interactions between he and Gwyn moving beyond trainer / trainee and that will set in motion his healing arc, him noting how different he feels when in her presence compared to anyone else.

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 12 Weak Pulse

Also Day 16 Coughing Fit and Day 21 “Just hold on.” for whumpril

Still working on the catch up, and so here a collection of several days.

Familiar faces, set Season 3 x 15 of the vampire dairies follow on from CPR

Kol watches his brother and gains several questions however the answers have to wait as Elijah ignores his own health.

---

Kol watched as his mother’s protective circle starts to fail, the flames starting to flicker and die down. He looked between mother’s shock and Elijah stiff form, hand held out stretched as he focused on smothering Esther’s power.

Esther’s power as well as the Bennet line, he remembered learning under Ayana, besides her children, that line was powerful, Elijah hadn't had enough power or interest to take part in those lessons back then.

And yet Elijah was countering it on his own even channelling his original body that shouldn’t have been possible without-

Just as he thought it he noticed his brother’s heart beat start to slow from it’s heightened rate, getting to a level that would be normal to a vampire but was wrong from a teenage human under stress.

“Stop!” he ordered appearing beside his brother, one hand reaching out to grab Elijah in an attempt to shake him from his concentration 

“I won’t kill me while I’m linked to you.” Elijah countered but Kol could hear the laboured sound in the words, the way he was leaning into Kol’s hand, uses it to keep him upright.

It may not kill him but Kol was well aware of the permanent damage overuse of magic could cause, so he swallowed, remembered where the echoed sharp stabs of pain he felt during their journey here and with a quick jab from the hand not holding Elijah, slammed a hand into the bruises left from the CPR.

He winced as Elijah let out a choked cry and he heard the surprised grunts from his brothers as they all felt Elijah’s cracked ribs shift and ignoring his discomfort he caught Elijah.

Elijah crumpled into his arms, coughing. His magic vanishing causing mother’s protection to flare back up, he ignored that as well as the sound of Finn’s questions, it seemed mother hadn’t shared with him that Elijah would be part of this spell.

Kol let Nic inform their oldest brother of what mother's true intentions for their current human brother, it seemed Mother hadn't been completely honest with Finn, why he thought she would be this time when she hadn't when she had first killed them all, was beyond Kol.

Instead he spent his attention on Elijah, who was stuck in a coughing fit, struggling to catch his breath, while using his supernatural hearing to make sure his hit hadn't broken the rib and cause it to puncture.

He didn't want to need to take his brother to ER since they had apparently made enemies of al the witches in this town

They shouldn’t have let him come Kol thinks, the moment they realised his injuries they should have made him stay back.

But then when had any of them ever managed to get Elijah to let them go, his stubborn protectiveness was the one thing none of them had ever really tried to break because they all liked having that attention at one point.

And look where it had ended up getting Elijah.

As the coughing fit ended, Elijah slowly regathered his breath to straighten as he returned his glare back at the pair in the circle, stepping away from Kol.

Moments later the protective flames flickered again and Kol had to check that Elijah wasn't trying something before mother started to shout calling to the Bennet ancestors.

It seemed the Salvatore brothers had fulfilled their roles, it was only the fact Kol was still watching Elijah that he caught the flickering of grief in his brother’s face as he also realised what it meant.

Right, because the oldest Bennet witch had trained Elijah in this life, even if Kol was judging what and how much his brother knew, Elijah had called the woman, Grams, and the youngest was a friend of Elijah’s.

It seemed their Mother was as bad as Klaus at ruining Elijah’s new life and bringing death to the people that he grew up with. 

He pulled Elijah back to him, his brother falling easily into him without resistance, Kol would assume he was lightheaded and exhausted from both using to much magic and pushing an injured body.

He discovered Mother and Finn’s escape as he looked up to find the woods empty, other than Klaus watching with concern, but for once Klaus was silent.

He rested one hand on Elijah’s neck to catch the faint beat under the skin and waited as the weak pulse slowly started to strengthen and return to its normal pace. Faster than he was used to from Elijah but this was the new normal for his brother he was going to get used to it.

The self sacrificing hadn’t changed sadly, only growing worse as it had expanding to cover even more people to Kol’s annoyance, he had thought to keep the link between them as something to stop Klaus from daggering him and protect Elijah but if Elijah was willing to use it to risk permanent damage to himself the sooner they were all unlinked the better.

“Can you walk?” he asked, as his mind started pointing out how much smaller Elijah was now, Kol wasn’t unused to being taller than Elijah but this was different, Elijah Gilbert was a growing teenager who hadn’t spent most of his time training under the unforgiving hand of Mikeal or hunting their food.

And now exhausted and in pain, it had stripped away the commanding confident aura Elijah normally had, that made himself the fearsome, merciless 'noble one'. Leaving just Elijah, his brother, and currently the most fragile of his siblings.

“Probably not.” Elijah admitted not looking at him and Kol blinked when he realised the silence from Elijah wasn’t caused by the injuries or the magic overuse but embarrassment.

“Idiot.” Klaus snapped but before Klaus could move towards them, Kol shifted his hold on Elijah and swept him up into his arms while trying to be careful not to jar his ribs, he had done enough damage tonight.

“Wha- Kol- what ar- '' Elijah started to ask looking at him with wide eyed surprised. Kol ignored the louder thoughts that Elijah should have a nosebleed if not more considering how much power he had used, he’d worry about that after they dealt with mother and her plans to kill them.

“Just hold on.” he told him, waiting just long enough for Elijah had followed his instruction before he took off into the woods back to the house Klaus had brought them.

Elijah would be staying with them until the threat of their mother had passed. It wasn’t like Elijah could argue since that was his own rule he had set in place centuries ago.

In the morning once Elijah recovered from this magic overused Kol was teaching him to heal broken bones and getting him to fix those ribs, he was getting tired of the dull echo he could feel through the link.

[pjisskullourful]

Any Vic x fem reader content 👀🥺

what if i took my ass into the kitchen& cooked something up just for you cos my mind is wandering instead of sleeping?

not proofread, 643 words, suuuuuper explicit- enjoy!

“You don't deserve to be in my bed…” Victoria said, her sternness keeping you quiet. “That's only for good girls, which you're not.”

Why did her disapproval dazzle you - it kept warmth radiating beneath your skin. You had been telling her that you wanted her to dominate you more, progressing beyond what had been so exciting these past eight weeks. You didn't want her to hold back, you craved the meanest side of her. She had mentioned liking submissive girls and you had taken this as an invitation to be the most submissive girl for her.

Tonight you had been just as submissive as ever, but you had fallen short on obedience. She had ordered for you to not come without permission, which had worked for your first two orgasms.

But when she wanted to progress from scissoring to using her fingers on your over-stimulated clitoral hood, you had failed. You couldn't withstand her edging. You had been too sensitive to think clearly, nevermind to have any control over yourself. As she rubbed up-and-down, you had screamed out pleas to come, but she had denied you over-and-over, warning you not to do it. But you couldn't help yourself, spasming into a third orgasm.

She had voiced her disappointment immediately and you had savoured those words. Then she had slapped her hand down onto your aching clit again-and-again, calling you a bad girl through clenched teeth. You had assumed this spanking would be your punishment, enjoying each sharp collision.

But now, in the aftermath, you were being kicked out of her bed.

“Get up, now.” She said.

You got to your feet, your head swimming with all of the endorphins. “Do you- am I supposed to leave, go back to my place?”

“No, I invited you to spend the night, I haven't rescinded that invitation.” She said.

“Should I go sleep on the sofa, or…?” You asked.

She raised her eyebrows slightly. “The sofa? That's too nice for a bad girl like you.” She was making a show of rearranging the pillows on her bed, you supposed she was rubbing the comfort in your face. Once she got them positioned as she liked, she clicked her fingers then pointed to the carpeted floor. “You're gonna sleep there.”

Filled with tingles and still so sensitive, you felt the powerful and fast fashion that your blood swept through your system, an almost-tangible wave. You could hardly contain the smile as you looked at her. “You want me to sleep on the ground?”

“Uh-huh. And I think you want you to sleep there too, so you can prove to me that you know how to behave and you can earn back some of my favour. I'm sure you don't want to be punished forever.” She said.

“Okay, baby.” You said - as opposed to saying your safe word to end this scenario.

Your thighs quivered with excitement and you could feel the ache in your pussy as you got to following her order. In the light cast by the lamp, she watched your movements of getting down onto your knees. Then you shifted your body weight and brought your butt to the ground. You started to lay down, the carpet provided some padding, but the firmness of the floor wouldn't be easy to ignore. Rather than focusing on your discomfort, you maintained eye-contact with her, craving her approval.

She didn't offer you a single pillow once you had laid down, curled onto your side so you could face her and the bed. Her eyes were darker than usual as she watched you. She was getting comfortable beneath her blanket.

“Goodnight.” You said, showing her that you had no complaints.

She switched the lamp off and dangled her hand down, reaching the short distance between the top of the mattress and where you lay. “Suck my fingers, bad girl.”

[dreamingofyeo]

crescent: chapter 10 ☾⋆⁺₊✧

Ties of frailty

1095 words

masterlist - playlist

~ chapter warnings: brief mention of blood

~ ☆彡~ Tumblr's algorithm works from reblogs so if you like my work please consider It

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And so it was settled. You and Hongjoong would officially join the elves in their quest to unite the magical forces and reclaim the lands igoras usurped. The questions brought about from the revelation of Hongjoong’s relations with this Seonghwa swirl around your mind like a rainstorm. The second you’re dismissed from Fraijia, the floodgates open.

“How do you know Seonghwa? You don’t appear to think of him fondly.” You delicately pose the question, just as lightly treading down the staircase to reach the forest floor.

Hongjoong tenses lightly and sends you a tight lipped smile, he shakes his head as if shaking off a memory of great discomfort.

“My dealings with Igoras go far beyond our first meeting Arla. It was 4 years ago, Darium- king of Igoras himself the bastard- came to us and offered our group full pardons in exchange for bringing Seonghwa to him. He’d exhausted all his best assassins trying already, we were his last option. If we couldn’t accomplish it, we’d be out of the picture anyway, he had nothing to lose in retrospect. Anyway, he didn’t count on one of our own already having ties to Seonghwa- the friend I told you about. Though he would have never agreed of course. His father- our leader- kept him completely in the dark. Seonghwa got lured to us and was completely oblivious, under the guise of our healer requiring some rare enchanted herb. They’d planned to immobilise him whilst he slept before taking his leave in the morning… When my friend caught wind of the true reason for his being there, he informed me thinking I also did not know. It’s one of my greatest regrets, as a friend and as a person… Needless to say, that perspective shift led to us tipping Seonghwa off. He fled of course, but not before raising our camp to the ground, some of us didn't make it through the night. I took the blame and was banished the same night.”

You’re taken aback to say the least, the thought of Hongjoong willingly going along with something like that stirs nausea in your gut.

“You said you left?” Is all you can muster.

“same difference, I would’ve left anyway after that. The point is, Fraija thinks he will now view it as him owing me and will therefore consider helping us.”

You nod in understanding. Now at the bottom of the stairs looking out into forest. The stag from your first day in Reynyr is just visible in the distance. 

“What was your friend’s name?”

Hongjoong meets your eyes and smiles, a mournful one containing years worth of happiness.

“San, Choi san.”

You return the smile and bask in the tranquility of the forest for only a moment, before being interrupted by Hongjoong’s favourite individual.

“As fascinating and revealing as your little backstory is Hong, if you two lovebirds are quite finished it’s time to get going.” Hyunjin swirls past you both in a flurry of sass and nonchalance- an infuriating combination for the newly named ‘Hong’.

“Hong?” the man himself questions, his head tilted in mild irritation.

“I- Where are we going?” You inquire, choosing to gloss over the later part of the elf’s nonsense. 

“You, dear humans, are going to the wolves. I, am going to find snacks to watch the looks on your faces to.” He sniggers as Felix jumps down from whatever tree he’d been perched in for the past five minutes. 

You gulp in anticipation, Felix stands behind you and Hongjoong, a hand on each of your outside shoulders before sticking his head between you both.

“It’ll be fine, they’re friends.” He chirps happily before lightly pushing you both forward to follow Hyunjin.

“Just don’t look the big one in the eye when he’s all big and scary, he won’t tolerate your face as easily as me.” Hyunjin laughs over his shoulder.

“Oi, Chan is lovely what are you on about?” Felix laughs back

Hongjoong huffs under his breath before muttering something about when he gets his (your) dagger back and you can’t help but laugh too.

~

After a while of walking through the forest, you all arrive at the clearing where the wolves first made their presence known to you. A shiver goes down your spine as you step carefully around a small puddle of blood on the ground. All other traces of the attack are gone, making the area all the more eerie. Felix gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before offering his hand to aid you over some large rocks at the edge. The foliage on the other side is trampled, bracken leaves pressed into the forest floor haphazardly; large paw prints confirming this to be the spot the wolves had emerged from. You wonder what to expect, what form they would be in upon your official meeting, if there are any dos and don’ts depending on which. Hongjoong jumping down from the rock behind you spares you from further thoughts though, you all begin walking again. 

Not five minutes later you and Hongjoong pull yourselves up and freeze. A loud snap sounding to the left. Felix turns to you both.

“We’re nearly there. They always have a scout around their borders, today he’s here to escort us.” 

Upon finishing his sentence, the tall foliage to your left begins to part. One paw steps out, then a snout. More and more of the wolf emerges, you try harder and harder not to back away. He surveys you and Hongjoong carefully for a moment before walking past you until he’s situated in front of the elves- they all bow their heads respectfully and you and Hongjoong exchange a quick glance before following along.  Hyunjin breaks the formal silence with a step towards the wolf. 

“Hello Han.”

“Hyunjin, Felix. I see the time has come then.”

“Indeed it has.”

You’re stunned. He spoke? His mouth did not move? You look over at Hongjoong in shock, he looks back at you in confusion- yet it seems misplaced. In a hushed tone you ask him if he heard the wolf now known as ‘Han’ speak.

“No? You did?”

Felix chuckles lightly.

“You have elven blood in you, and more magic than anticipated apparently. You can hear any magical creatures words as well as I it would seem.”

“Wow…” you let out under your breath, now in awe.

Han looks at you directly then. 

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Arla.” 

His words raise questions that fill your mind for the remainder of the walk to the wolves’ camp. 

<-chapter 9 - chapter 11->

taglist: open

@itsokaytobedumb00 @walkxthexmoon

[pearlcages]

There is no such thing as a short hair Callie girl. Other than the cute sorta bob in season 7, that’s as short as it ever got for Callie. She’s a hair girl, got a beautiful thick head of hair. If you can’t separate character from the actor than say that.

huh

so i’d like to start this by saying that i have very little interest in changing your mind here, because if i was invested in that i simply wouldn’t have written chapter 11 the way i did. but i will take this as a general jumping off point to string together some ideas i've had floating around for a minute

i fundamentally do not understand the discomfort people have in this fandom with callie's hair changing. the vehemence of the response and the fact that it is pre-prepared indicate to me that it's about more than characterization. you'd already decided before i wrote chapter 11 that it could never be done well, done genuinely, done with an understanding of callie as a character

callie who did in fact get a huge haircut on a whim in season 7, just like you said. because she was entering a new era of her life and needed to leave the old one behind. as a character, callie is dynamic and changeable, she has a history of taking aesthetic risks because she needs visual markers for internal change. it's not unprecedented, it's not even a reach. we have actual canon basis for this kind of decision

beyond that, it's weird to thing to argue that queer women's gender expression doesn't... evolve? as we age? that a woman who didn't realize she was interested in women until her 30s couldn't possibly grow to a place where she pursues visible queerness? that at a certain age, our identity and how we express it is set in stone?

callie has never been static or unchangeable as a character, she's always been interested in reflecting these changes aesthetically, and she's quite literally made the decision to make a radical change like this before. these things are all true

your attachment to callie's femininity is fine. it's great, actually! i have no problem with other people's interpretation of a character or other peoples aesthetic preferences. but your personal attachment to callie's femininity is not, in fact, going to be the deciding factor in my work

but what i really don't get is why what i do in my fic is so threatening to literally anyone. because the reaction is consistently passionate whenever this subject comes up, and there has to be something there. something about the idea of callie with short hair really bothers people, and it's not simply that you think it's ooc. again, you decided it was ooc before you read the chapter. nothing i could've possibly written would have not pinged as ooc for you. no depth of complexity would've been enough, no grand understanding of her as a character. so there is something there beyond characterization that specifically gets under people's skin

because i'm not in your inbox telling you that you absolutely have to cut callie's hair. i'm not threatened by other people's choices in how they characterize her. i don't specifically seek them out and insult them when they do something i wouldn't— and let's not pretend you aren't insulting me here

so, perhaps, we should just all take a moment to think about why things make us angry and really get to the bottom of that. or, maybe, we should just come off anon

[randomoranges]

The Coldest Day of the Year

 “Happy coldest day of the year, Sweetheart!” Edward greeted him brightly, when Étienne rolled over and furrowed his face in Edward’s side.

 Étienne groaned and tried to disappear beneath the multitude of blankets he had piled on him. Edward laughed – the bastard sounded far too pleased.

 “I was thinking,” His partner went on, ignoring his obvious discomfort at the mere thought of facing the world outside of his nest of blankets where it was cozy and warm, “We should go for a nice brisk walk later. It’s actually sunny outside.”

 Étienne shivered at the suggestion and dared to poke a hand out of the warmth to attempt to shush Edward by smushing it over his mouth. Instead, Edward pecked each finger in turn and playfully bit on the last one just to get a reaction out of Étienne. It worked, since he retracted his hand and brought it back to the safety of the blanket nest.

 “Have fun on your walk. I hope you don’t freeze.” He mumbled, this side of outraged at the audacity Edward had of even suggesting such a preposterous thing. Why anyone would want to go outside when it was -40 was beyond him.

 “Fresh air is good for you.”

 Étienne didn’t need to look at Edward’s face to know that he was having way too much fun with this and that he looked utterly smug. Edward was enjoying tormenting him. Étienne would have to remember come summer when Edward would complain the moment the outside temperature reached 25.

 “Enjoy it for me then.” This time, he actually did pull the covers over his head to put an end to the conversation, but Edward laughed and then wiggled down to join him.

 “Come on, Curly, it won’t be so bad. A few extra layers and you’ll barely feel the wind cutting up your face.” Edward said as he pulled him close and wrapped their legs together. The only reason Étienne didn’t push away was that Edward at least provided some extra warmth. There had to be some perk, after all.

 Étienne looked up at Edward, the man he had chosen to spend his days with, and gave him a pointed look. “Or – you can go out and suffer, and I’ll stay inside in my blanket burrito.”

 Edward chuckled, “And what will you do for food?”

 He opened his mouth to say something, but then remembered Edward wasn’t a fan of food in bed. Shame, really.

 “Come out of bed and I’ll make you a nice breakfast,” Edward tried to coax, but Étienne didn’t budge. He wasn’t a fool. He knew better. This was just one of his partner’s many tactics to lure him away from the warmth. He didn’t need a nice breakfast. He could live in his fort of warmth until the weather got its act together.

 “Or, hear me out, we both stay here where it’s nice and toasty.” He counter argued. It was Saturday, after all. They didn’t need to go anywhere. They could spend the morning being lazy in bed. The rest of the world could wait.

 Edward quietly pondered the proposition for a moment and then let out an exaggerated sigh, “Alright, you win.” He truly seemed bothered by it, but Étienne knew better and made himself comfortable, barnacling himself around Edward until he was content and comfortable.

 “Glad you saw reason after all. Was worried there for a moment.” He murmured from the crook of Edward’s neck once more, happy he could indulge in this.

 “I wasn’t,” Edward assured him, “Knew you’d find creative ways to warm me up.”

 Étienne grinned; for as much as that was true, this was also a lot better for now.

 FIN