#have I spent hours and probably more spoon on this than it was healthy?

[cristalknife]

On Comments, feedback anxiety on both the writer and the reader’s side

 If one could look into  my WIP draw, or take a glance at the fics I’ve actually posted, it becomes clear misunderstandings based on miscommunication is something I seem have a thing for. In all honesty is more of a lifelong study and recurring theme I keep stumbling on or consciously walking into. Preface: I am only human and mistakes can happen, but usually I try to handle the detailed label (also referred as Read the Tin or as written on the tin) of major warning with my writings that is usually missing in any other aspect of life, sort of a lovely user manual/preview so one could know to walk away before getting invested or worse triggered. 

Or at least know exactly what they signed up for.

Is it perfect? No but at least it’s there, as a writer I did all I could to avoid unpleasantness, the rest it’s up to the reader’s discretion. Which leads me to the heart of this post: comments, feedbacks, criticism, politically correctness, manners and the anxiety they produce in both the writer and the reader. 

The picture is big so I’ll divide in sides, but remember that people are made of multiple sides, and sometimes those sides are at odds or outwardly warring against each other. That’s pretty average for any irrational human being with emotions.

From the POV of an overthinking anxious writer:

1)  Ao3′s Kudos are sort of like a watered down thumbs up, after about 4-5 fic posted (or ~15K words of stories out there to be consumed), they became the kind of anxiety triggers feeding thoughts of why so many people/guests left a kudo but the story wasn’t good enough to warrant the time of a comment/review 2) Comments are lovely reminder someone found something in your words that made them react so strongly they felt like sharing that reaction with you was worth their time. 

2.1) Comments are also the cause of anxiety about their content before you have the courage to read what they says...

3) Criticisms and feedbacks can be a wonderful tool to improve your writing for the next story. But not if they are laced with insult, personal attacks in that case they are the kind of black hole that pushes people to stop writing all together, or at least stop sharing what they write. 

4) single emoji (♥), 2 char long (<3) comments takes years of effort and a lot of conditioning to remember to slip in reader mode and appreciate the effort it took to stop and do even that, instead of allowing doubts to gnaw at the back of your head with waaaiiiiit that’s all? was it good? was it bad? arrrghhh what does it even mean??? 

5) Statistics and numbers, those are the evilest of the most buggering things and the most vile tempters that will push you to compare your stories against others (a futile exercise in frustration and pointless reason to shred one’s own self confidence to the tiniest of pieces for literally nothing)

5.1) Especially when you have two writing mind frames: 

 writing the stories you want to read (and usually it is either a niche where you’ve already consumed all you could find so you write it because duh, more content might ignite back the fire please, or you haven’t found yet someone to say it how you want to read it) vs what I simply call 

 exorcism writing (the kind of free therapy exercise when something is bugging the heck out you and not leaving your mind so you put it down to words and then let them fly free, instead of trapping them on a diary you’d just return to read and start the vicious cycle all over again)

5.1.1) and your exorcism stories become more popular than the stories you want to read, because at the end of your raw ranting exorcism you managed to write something that would end up falling within mainstream tropes. Which just makes you sad because those were not the result of love and planning and endless hours of writing and editing that you put in your other stories.

6) I’m not writing fan fiction to be an educator, it is possible that my day job is being an educator, but unless I’m there writing textbooks, as a writer it is not my responsibility to teach the reader something that has to be authentic, realistic and a good practice. I’m just here to tell a story.  Or are you really telling me that you watch superheros movies and series and expect them to appear outside your window? If you just laughed then why are you looking at fanfic smut with the expectation of finding a more interesting and alternative way to have a sex ed lesson? If you subscribe to the school that a story has has to make sense... Let me ask have you ever read some of the greatest literature works like Frankenstain, Moby Dick, The Hobbit, Journey to the center of the Earth, Alice through the looking glass, Aeneas, if you did and subscribe to “fiction as to make sense” then please please enlighten me I’m rady to sit back and hear all the points you can make how any of those are realistic representations of how things go. If you  says that those are just stories told oh so long ago... Lets pick more recent ones, the Harry Potters books, Goosebumps, Twilight, The Shadowhunters Chronicles, 50 shades of , all those are listed as fiction  which yes sadly too many used as a portrait of theme touched in there as realistic because the story was not set in a fantastical world and made the mistake of treating a work of fiction as a documentary... Sorry people I’m a writer, choosing the right words matters, words meanings and definitions matter please  learn to think critically, and learn your words, there is a difference between fiction and documentary  6.1) At the same time it might be that I am the kind of writer who loves to add factually authentic things in my writings, someone who actually had spent hours and hours on research to make sure that what they have been writing is not utter and complete made up rubbish, and that’s ok too. I do not expect readers to assume it is correct or that it is purely made up, and if someone is curious they could use the comment to ask a question, I’ve never turned out a curious question, even when it was difficult to answer it

7) Just because I am writing about something, it doesn’t mean I support it...  Again those are stories, not a scientific report on a lab experiment, I can write about abusive relationships, doesn’t mean I support them, I could write about self harm or depression, doesn’t mean I am encouraging those behaviors, in fact those usually come with a Trigger Warning, why? because a reader should have the option to walk away from what should be just a moment of pleasure and relax, not finding themselves triggered because I didn’t want to spoil the surprise of what was going to come in a story posted on the internet... 8) This far I’ve personally chosen to not push for comment, no beg necessary, I decided years ago to be the kind of self centered bad ass who writes for themselves, who’s not going to dangle the promises of more chapters in exchange for comments, I dislike the practice, and I find too exhausting shouting left and right hey hey I’ve written this read it read it... So I do get why my stories do not have such a large audience, it doesn’t help I’ve actually posted way less than what I’ve written over the years. I do welcome comments, though I have no clue on how to respond to short ones, or a single emoji/<3 to all chapters to those I end up answering only to the most recent one of that person and thank for their support. Longer comments are easier to answer because it gives me something to say back or comment/thanks for, though it becomes weird for me when someone speculate on future developments in what they wish to see, and since I’ve recently adopted the policy of posting only completed stories (even for the chaptered ones that will not be posted at the same time, the number of total chapter is not an estimation it is exactly the number of files I’ve divided the story into for reasons) because I do know whether something of that sort will happen or not, and I don’t want to put someone out of my story if they are too invested in see what they imagined happen... Though as I do write stories I’d like to read I’m quick to encourage aspiring writers to feel free to take that what if and work with it, just to please mention that my story inspired theirs and that I’d love to see what they come up with. Constructive criticisms, I do not have a beta for most of my works, I do not work too well depending on other people’s time, I confess even in the past I received criticisms that were not constructive if we push the boundaries and call those criticisms rather than just plain old complains, which is sort of the reason why I stopped explicitly encouraging communication. Because I do expect respect, you don’t know anything about me or what I believe in, you might make some guesses from my profile because I haven’t been shy and pretty open on them, but I won’t accept being personally attacked or talked to in a disrespectful manner just because you didn’t like what I wrote. I have no problem accepting criticisms, as long as they are criticisms and not just whining. You cannot come to me with “I hate your story” and leave it at that, you already took the time to express your opinion instead of simply walking away, the least you can do is explaining why... Otherwise I seriously don’t get why you wasted both of yours and more importantly my time and energies... From the POV of a spoonie reader who barely has the energy to read: 1)  Ao3′s Kudos are a life saver that allows you to show your appreciation (even if you are allowed only one as registered user) with only a click (and some times even that click takes so much out of you) instead of relegating you to invisible reader, barely visible number (*coughs*ff.net*coughs*)  or forcing you to make a story a favorite/followed 

2) Comments are the source of anxiety, because you might want to show support but would they get that or would it sound strange? will the author understand that a a ghsafdgsakdjfh (read: key smash) happened with excitement and love and you’ve no other words to express it? 2.1) also trying to put your support in words when you are in your pj cozily being a blanket burrito and reading from your phone in bed because there’re no more spoon left for the day it’s hard 

3) The author asked for R&R, or welcomes comments and constructive criticism. You loved the story enough to spend energies to

point out things that were plain plot hole or downright inconsistency or lose ends, pointing out botched translations from your own mother tongue and offering correction that were not google translated, in ao3 case pointing out lack of some appropriate tags, which would have 1 improved your story’s visibility and 2 allowed the reader to choose whether they wanted to read it or not both points that would have benefit you as author...

Only for the author to react: 

- badly with a why are you such a nitpick hadn’t anyone told you that you should just stay silent if you have nothing nice to tell me? - Excuse me you’re the one asking for my opinion not my adoration, I gave you exactly what you asked for, if you cannot handle your work being nitpicked or the holes in your plot being publicly poked then there’re fabulous people called Beta reader who will give you the needed dose of though love in private get one..

- badly with a don’t like don’t read -  legit reader’s counter point is  I wouldn’t have read it if you had given me a way to know then what I discovered now  [personal addendum, on a not that well low energy day it takes me less about 3 mins and half to read 1.5K words don’t came at me on your 1k long story and tell me I could have stopped reading when I noticed it wasn’t that good for me...I was done with it before I could get any warning]

- dismissively because a meet cute  clearly is an AU  - Bless your heart if you need me to point out to you that there is a difference between an Alternative Universe (AU) and a Canon Divergence and the fact that   meet cute is a trope  which in fandoms usually implies different circumstances within the fandom’s canon world  of the first meeting between the characters in the main relationship but doesn’t automatically include different premises for the character example: 

in canon: characters from a magical supernatural fandom one a wizard with magic, one a fighter with superhuman speed and holy weapons, in their first meeting the fighter saved the wizard’s life. 

in a meet cute:  a wizard and a fighter with superhuman speed and holy weapons meet in the middle of the forest where the fighter was hunting for food failing miserably and the wizard took pity on the fighter and offered to share their dinner, if the fighter dared to step inside the wizard’s home

in a No Power/Human AU meet cute: where there is no magic, one of the two is a barista who uses flirty coffee jokes lines to call the other’s person order, and finally discover they are an accountant so instead they start using math puns to get the accountant’s attention. 

Those are all valid stories but as an author don’t came at me believing that just because you mention a trope that is enough to distinguish between the 2° and 3° examples, or that having mentioned the trope gives you the standing to look down at me if I do have my own reasons that you do not know about  for wanting to read only stories like the second pitch and get upset but still tell you in a polite way that there are missing tags in your story, especially when you’ve falsely advertise your 3° like pitch as if it was a 2° one and I get upset and let you know about it and do so with the curtesy of signing it with my name rather than leave an guest/anonymous comment 

- shrugging off issues with the tags with a Oh but I’m bad at tagging  -

then I have 3 things to say to you buddy one) that’s not an excuse if you haven’t learnt how to do it yourself get a beta, get a friend, read more and compare what your story tells with a similar one and how that one is tagged, there’re ways Ignorance is not an excuse; 

two) you can’t claim you’re bad at tagging but then refuse to listen when someone is pointing out to you more tags for your story, dud learn how search engines work, searching by tag is basically having a filtered search, the more tags your fit your story the more venues your story can appear in reader’s search for something to read... which means visibility for your work, are you really telling me that you dislike to have that and would prefer less people reading what you post? then sorry but I think you’re doing it wrong and should get a diary instead, not post them on the internet.

addendum: still claiming to be bad at it after having posted over 40 stories and all posted in recent times in the span of a couple of months, just suggest you lack the intelligence to learn how to do things. Which only encourages me to never ever get close to your works, certainly to never promote or share them if not actively discouraging my friends from spending their time on them.

three) and guess what?  there is a frikking I'm Bad At Taggingtag for that too!!!

As a reader I might be ranting in this post, but the long effect of those is a growing apathy and increased unwillingness to spend my energies for commenting unless I’d really really really really liked or loved a story, or I have something more than a one liner to share, which while I intellectually know it might be unfair to let the whole pay for the disrespect of few, my own survival instinct is glad I’m not spreading myself even thinner...

truthful disclaimer: in all fairness it has been my experience, that those reactions usually come from authors with already quite few stories or a decent word count out there. 

New authors are still very much enthusiastic and happy about even the smallest crumbs of recognition or encouragement, which in return is lovely because it recognise that my own time and energy as reader are worthy, that it does take effort to share an opinion or encouragement or suggestion.

4) The author might never know how that day I posted that single emoji, or two character <3,  it was one of those bad days when even opening a small water bottle to swallow down the painkillers was too much, when using a finger to scroll down the page to reach the end of the story had wiped out more energies than I could really afford and yet I still pushed myself to leave a sign that I was there and appreciated their story

5) readers should be allowed to have the “if you thought writing was hard, try commenting other people words” tag...  because sometimes especially on older platforms (yes ff.net I’m looking at you) as a reader I can’t find the energies to wipe up something to say so I become a silent invisible reader. And sometimes it’s really that I am able to stand only stories with certain characteristics, personally for example I do not have the emotional fortitude to read more a certain amount of Work In Progress at the same time across multiple fandoms because my brain can’t recall all the details and I might not feel to rereading the story from the beginning every single time there is a new chapter... 6) Maybe it’s because I’m way out of my teens, maybe it’s because even in my teens and before stories were my safe place, my escape, I do not expect things to be factually correct in stories, but I am a logic driven person, I will see those plot holes and I might even poke through 'em if I find your story good enough that I feel it would be a pity not pointing those things out. You cannot tell a classic vampire story (not the twilight kind of sun sparkling vampires but the sun burn me to ashes kind) and have your group of vampires prancing about at noon of a clear summer day without some sort of reason for that to work. I promise you, I’m not picky, I will accept ridiculous reasons like they were standing under and umbrella covered from head to toes and none of their skin was exposed to the sunlight, but do put the effort to give me a reason why I should believe it was intentional, or do not cry and complain if I do decide to point out dude you’ve normal vampires that are sunbathing and did not become piles of ashes that’s not plausible... 7) Stories are just that, something to listen to, they don’t have to have a moral for them to be worthy of being shared, they don’t have to be a mirror  of your thoughts, or they could be a mirror of your beliefs, and if I am commenting on them I’m commenting on the story itself not your connection to it. And I do need you to advertise in advance if there’re things that might be triggerish, because what might be  just a mental exercise of stepping outside your shoes, if not done might result in me walking into a panic attack while maybe I was just recuperating for one and trying to find comfort or a distraction. While I as a reader cannot know you author and where you come from, unless you want to make an ass of u and me do not assume you know where I am or what path I’m walking in my life as a reader.  8) I despise people telling me what to do, especially if I didn’t ask for an opinion... If someone (who doesn’t have an economical or authorative position over me) demands me to do something the chances I’ll be do it, especially if I was going to do it before, become nil instantaneously. I’ve been running and lurking in writing circles and fanfictions for closer to three decades at the time this is being written, and from the very beginning I found disgusting and deplorable the practice some authors adopted of bargaining reaching certain numbers of comments/kudos in exchange for the next chapter. I can respect an author saying I don’t want to get this or that, but the final result is that most likely I would walk away without commenting even if it would have been a story I would have otherwise supported. There’re few authors I do know personally, at least superficially through other channels, that have this kind of disclaimers and I still comment. But that’s because I have an appreciation and will to support the person themselves who also happened to be authors. 

[pot-of-terv]

FINALLY! It is here! The conclusion to my PuzzleJune series! Thank you so much for everyone who’s tagged along on this journey and thank you especially to @xauroraxborealisx for arranging this event. It’s been a wild ride for me because this is the first time I’ve ever done something this big so I’m incredibly grateful for everything ;__;

I might continue this story with tiny bits here and there but for the foreseeable future, this is it. Hope you enjoy!! 💗 (Please be sure to read the previous parts first if you’re new here :3)

PuzzleJune 2021, Week Four: Mind (School, Bond)

“Aren’t you hungry, Yuugi?”

The aforementioned boy startles, almost dropping his spoon into his soup. He looks at his grandpa and blinks.

“Uh, yeah, not really. Sorry.”

“Thought so,” Sugoroku nods and drinks his remaining broth straight from the bowl. “Give the rest to me.”

Yuugi blinks at him again, almost owlishly, and lifts his bowl with stiff arms to hand it over to the old man.

Sugoroku doesn’t waste any time and goes for the soup as soon as it’s in front of him. Yuugi smiles at him, amused, and stands up. He gathers up his spoon and glass and brings them to the sink.

“Thanks for the food,” he calls out as he leaves the kitchen. Sugoroku answers him with a grunt, probably already immersed in his crossword now that there’s no one else at the table.

Yuugi walks the stairs to his room slowly, silently thanking his grandfather for not making a fuss about his suddenly disappeared appetite. It’s been a quiet day but he feels tired and he’s kept zoning out. He blames it on the blistering heat of late summer but even to him, it sounds like a lie – the real reason is that he misses Atem.

He doesn’t bother closing the door of his room behind him and goes straight for the bed, falling onto it face first. It’s stupid, I know, he thinks and lifts his head enough to be able to tilt it to the side so he’s not smothered by the plush bedspread. He’ll be back soon.

Jounouchi had come to the house early that morning and asked to borrow Atem. He had reasoned that because school would start again in a week, he wanted to spend at least one day together with just Atem, doing whatever. Atem didn’t have to enrol, after all, so they won’t be able to hang out that much anymore after the classes start.

Yuugi understood him, of course – he will see Atem every day even if there’s a lot of homework, but the others don’t have that privilege. He had even joked that why aren’t their other friends waiting in line to get a turn, too, flustering Atem and making Jounouchi guffaw.

In all honesty, he’s really happy that Jounouchi would take the time to spend a whole day with Atem. They’d been going out as a group a lot after the first week and a half of Atem living (actually living) with Yuugi and while having all of their friends to hang out with is so much fun, Yuugi treasures time spent one-on-one.

It doesn’t change the fact that after being glued to Atem’s side for so long, Yuugi finds himself lost without him. His mind feels like candy floss, fluttery and sticky, and he can’t concentrate. He had tried to go through his deck in order to decide if it’s good enough (he and Atem need their own decks now, after all, so most of it is brand new) but couldn’t get past the first couple of cards. After that hadn't worked, he tried a few different games that he could play by himself but got no enjoyment from them. He’d just been going through the motions and realising that, he had decided to go down to help his grandpa at the shop for the rest of the day.

It’s not healthy to be so attached, he knows, and they really need to work on that – Yuugi is sure that Atem is fine with Jounouchi, but what about when they need to go to school and Atem stays home? He’d like to believe that the pharaoh will be much better off by himself than Yuugi is, but that is doubtful. They’ll have to have yet another talk soon – preferably today.

Yuugi bites his lip and sighs. There really is no coming back from the kind of bond that they’ve shared – through mind, heart and body – and Yuugi doesn’t want to imagine the pain that Atem’s departure to Afterlife would have caused when a simple day spent apart makes him unravel at the seams. Also, this train of thought could bring him to a place he most definitely doesn’t want to go now so to distract himself he turns onto his back and fumbles blindly to his left to grab the book he had left on the bed earlier that day.

- 

The sound of rustling wakes him an undetermined time later. He opens his eyes slowly, groggy enough to feel like he should just go back to sleep, but when he glances at the clock on his desk his stomach flips and he shoots up from the bed – the book he had attempted to read falling on the floor with a bang – and startles Atem who had been digging through a grocery bag.

“Ah! Yuugi!” he yelps and almost falls onto his butt from his crouched position on the other side of the desk. Thankfully he doesn’t send any of his purchases flying as he stabilises himself by quickly planting his other hand on the floor.

“Sorry!” Yuugi apologises quickly, his heart still racing. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep and he most definitely didn’t mean to sleep that late. It’s already seven in the evening, meaning that Yuugi had snoozed away for three hours. But – it also means that Atem is back, as evidenced by the boy currently looking up at him with concern written all over his face.

“I didn’t mean to wake you –” he starts but Yuugi silences him by shaking his head.

“No, I shouldn’t have slept in the first place. Really, I should thank you,” he says and pauses, then just looks at Atem. An unprompted smile makes its way onto his face. “Welcome home.”

There’s wonder in the pharaoh’s eyes and after a moment of silence, he returns the smile with such warmth it can almost be felt. “I’m home,” he replies, and Yuugi smiles wider.

He really is.

-

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?”

“Aibou, please,” Atem laughs and holds Yuugi’s face between his hands, squishing his cheeks. Jounouchi chortles from somewhere behind him and Yuugi frowns in his direction but doesn’t move away from Atem or try to pry his hands off of his face.

“But I worry,” he says, looking rightfully pouty as he shifts his gaze back to his partner. Atem laughs more and releases his face, patting his other cheek before crossing his arms.

“I’ll walk back home, help grandpa open up the shop and then it’s smooth sailing from there. You don’t have to worry,” he smiles at the still pouting teen in front of him. “I’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, and the day’s done sooner than you realise.”

“Yeah, Yuugi,” Jounouchi cuts in with a grin and drapes an arm around Atem’s shoulders. “Atem knows his way around the shop and we’re all here to take care of you. No sweat.”

“Honestly,” Anzu smiles and swiftly elbows Honda in the ribs before he can interrupt her. “We know it’s hard on you both but it’s just like ripping off a bandaid, right? It stings at first but it doesn’t last forever and even before you realise, you’ve forgotten all about it.”

“Y-yeah,” Honda says, rubbing his side, “what they said. We’ll be here, Yuugi.”

Yuugi stares at his friends, feeling his cheeks warming. How in the world did he get so lucky?

“T-thanks,” he mutters but can’t help smiling in the end. “You guys are great.”

“Hell yeah we are!” Jounouchi exclaims and does finger guns at him, his other arm still on Atem’s shoulders. Atem laughs but his eyes are soft when he looks at Yuugi.

“Go on, then. The gates are about to close, aren’t they?”

“Oh, shit!” Honda and Jounouchi yelp at the same time and the latter releases his hold on Atem. He ruffles the spiky-haired head before taking off after his best friend. “Stay crispy!” he shouts over his shoulder at Atem.

Anzu shakes her head, frowning. “These guys are too much. You don’t have to run yet!” she tries yelling after them but the duo is already too far ahead. She sighs but when she turns to Yuugi and tilts her head to the side, her eyes are twinkling.

“I should go after them. I trust you’ll be right behind, okay?”

And she winks. Yuugi flushes pink but before he can say anything, she’s already jogging off. There’s a chuckle next to him and he looks at the pharaoh who seems much too happy.

“That wasn’t fair,” Yuugi grumbles and that only makes Atem laugh harder.

“You’ve got amazing friends,” he says when he’s calmed down. Yuugi bristles at him but the pink on his cheeks takes away from his attempted glare. Just a little bit.

“They’re your friends too!” he reminds him and that makes Atem sober up. His voice is surprisingly quiet when he talks.

“They really are,” he says and smiles in that gentle way he's been doing a lot lately. Yuugi softens at his expression and they take a moment to just look at each other, wondering, smiling. There’s so much to be happy about, they both realise at the same time, and Yuugi takes Atem’s hand.

“I know you’ll be alright. I’m, just, I’m – I’m going to miss you.”

Atem smiles at him and squeezes his hand. “I’ll miss you too, Yuugi.”

It makes Yuugi’s smile widen and he chuckles. Of course he knew it but it feels good to hear it said out loud. He’s sure it’s the same for Atem.

“Well, I guess I should be going. Take care,” he says and without pause, kisses Atem on the cheek. “See you after school!” he grins and with one final squeeze, lets go of Atem’s hand and turns around to run after his friends. His chest is buzzing and he smiles the whole way to the building.

Atem is left standing at the curb, eyes wide, face red. He lifts his hand to touch his cheek and the skin there feels electric, as if that simple touch of lips had awakened a new sense that had been completely dormant until now. That feeling spreads across his skin, reaching the top of his head and the very tips of his toes and it’s so, so warm.

It feels really nice. Atem breaks out into a grin that matches Yuugi’s earlier one and turns around to leave, his hand staying on his cheek. He must look smitten as anything but he doesn’t care. He’s happy, so why not show it to the world?

As soon as he takes the first step, he almost collides with Ryou who had come running around the corner.

“Oh! Sorry, Atem. I overslept!” the white-haired boy exclaims and stops to give a quick pat to Atem’s shoulder. “Have a good day at the shop. I’ll come to visit if I can, after school!”

He grins and waves and dashes through the school gates before Atem can wade through the fluttery mess that is his mind for a greeting. He’s still reeling but Bakura didn't seem to mind his silence so it’s probably alright.

-

The walk back home doesn’t feel lonely in the least. After all, his partner is always with him, even when they’re apart. Hearts are wonderful like that.

And that, if something, is worth smiling for.

[tomtenadia]

Till food do us part - Rowaelin one shot

Good evening everyone.

I am back with a quick Rowaelin oneshot. This short fic came to me last week while I was in my hotel in Inveress getting ready to check out. Once on the train back to Aberdeen I had two hours and a half and I wrote this.

It’s a simple story and  just pure undiluted Rowaelin domestic fluff. I think I had to compensate for the angst in ALB. There’s no angst, just our two lovebirds being their adorable selves. 

The title is ridiculous. It took me more time to choose it than to write the whole fic. And it’s still bad. Sorry, I hate choosing titles.

Ach well, I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy.

Word count: 2.5k 

Aelin was in the kitchen all alone, in front of her on the counter she had all the pots and pans she would require to prepare her meal. At one side she had her cooking book and on the opposite side she had lined up all the ingredients needed. 

That was meant to be a special night and she wanted everything to be perfect. And because of that she had been nervous. She was not good at cooking like her boyfriend so for her to prepare a full meal from scratch was a monumental task. She just hoped not to burn down the house. He had been teaching her slowly, starting with very simple things but that evening, no matter what she was going to cook for him.

The plan was to prepare everything a part from the dessert which she had bought from the local bakery. Although her boyfriend was not a fan of sugary stuff, the night called for dessert. 

She and Rowan had been together for five years. They worked for the same company but on different floors and departments. She was in marketing, Rowan was part of the legal team and was one of the company’s lawyers.

They had a bit of a turbulent start. They met in the cafeteria and Rowan had the bad habit of being always a bit of ahead of her in the queue and always take the last portion of the food she wanted. Far too many times she had ended up eating food she did not want because of him. She had even tried to go to lunch at a different times but the man was always there. Her own personal hell. So after a whole month of that she had decided to take matter in her own hands and slowly plan her revenge. Rowan was a creature of habit, so she spent a few weeks studying him and his routine. Aelin had learned he loved to eat alone. He had friends but the lunch hour was his time to wind down and he did not want any drama or any shop talk. That would make her plan much easier. Eventually she hatched her plan. She started swapping the content of the salt and pepper shakers or even replacing them with other stuff. Aelin had also started making his table sticky or cluttering with empty trays. He still had no idea it was her but she enjoyed watching him muttering and probably cursing whoever did that to him. She had quickly learned that the man was hard to tick off completely. She would notice some small signs of irritation but that’s all the reaction she got, so she decided it was time to go big. 

And her final plan came into existence the day the cafeteria served mac and cheese and he took the last portion from her. She was fuming. If she could not have mac and cheese so wouldn’t he. 

She waited for him to make his way back to his table and then she walked straight into him. Their trays smashing against each others and the food landing on his shirt. She had muttered a weak sorry and had fled with a grin on her face.

She had later found out that she had made him late for an important meeting and caught hell from his boss Lorcan.

Until one day he started to retaliate. Apparently, she had found out, he knew all long it was her messing with his meals.

And so a long series of pranks had begun between them, most of them taking place in the cafeteria since that was the place they used to share the most.

However, sometimes along the way, Aelin realised pranking him was not fun anymore and that pesky feelings had started to take root in her.

Until one day he showed up in her office with two portions of mac and cheese from Emrys and a peace offering. They had the lunch in the privacy of her office, they talked and she realised very quickly that he was quite a fascinating man. Also, she would have lied to herself if she had ignored the fact that the man was hotness incarnated. He was tall and had a healthy muscular build. He would always wear impeccable tailored suits which made his backside very prominent and more than once her eyes had wandered. He had the most beautiful pine green eyes and she adored his silver hair.

Soon she had to admit that she had a crush on him. And then some.

And when Rowan finally asked her out she could not believe her ears. The sexiest man in the company wanted to go out with her. So she said yes.

Fast forward five years and Aelin was now cooking for their fifth anniversary and as a joke she had put mac and cheese on the menu. It was their dish and their own joke as well.

Aelin had a look at the clock and realised she had half an hour tops before he came back home.

While preparing mac and cheese she took a sip from the glass of wine at her side. She had bought two bottles of Rowan’s favourite wine and she had started the celebrations a bit earlier.

In the oven in the meantime, the pork roast and the potatoes were cooking and she was busy checking the food that she almost missed the sound of the front door opening and closing.

“I am home,” shouted a happy voice.

“Kitchen.” She shouted back.

When she stood she saw him in leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, his arms at his chest and a strange grin on his face “you are cooking?” He asked surprised, raising an eye brow in a question.

Aelin grabbed a glass of wine, took a step closer to him and gave it to him “Happy anniversary, buzzard.” And she went to him for a kiss he did not deny it to her.

“Oh, so you waited five years for your final revenge and win with food poisoning.” Still leaning against the doorframe he took a sip of wine and looked at her with a smirk.

Aelin just glared at him “I can cook.”

“Aelin, I love you, but cooking is definitely not your strongest asset.”

She waved her wooden spoon in his face “I’ll show you.”

Rowan chuckled happily and stooped for a kiss “happy anniversary, menace.”

Aelin moved another step in his direction “now go,” and she patted his chest “get changed and let me finish.”

Half an hour later the dining table was all set, with some candles on to set the romantic mood and a new bottle of win in the middle. Everything looked perfect and she was chuffed.

“This looks lovely,” his voice reached her as he re entered the room and his arms wound around her waist.

“I hope it’s good as well.” She said while pulling back from the embrace and pushing him to his seat. 

“Let me help,” he offered but Aelin pushed him again.

“No, just sit down.”

Quickly she went to get the appetisers: she had prepared raw smoked salmon on oatcakes with cream cheese and chives. They had that at a party and they loved it and realised it was something easy to make and almost impossible for her to mess it up. The only thing she had to do was to assemble the ingredients in a nice display.

Rowan in the meantime poured some wine for both and made happy noises at the wine.

“Fancy,” he added, commenting on the appetiser.

“Easy mostly. I took inspiration from the last party we went to.”

Rowan took one of the oatcakes and she relaxed when she saw him smile. Oh well, at least if the rest of the meal was a disaster they could eat oatcakes and salmon.

“Did you have a good day at work?” She asked, she had a day off and she hadn’t seen him since the morning when he left for work.

“It’s the end of the month and as you can imagine Lorcan has been his unpleasant self.”

“I need these reports on the desk by the end of yesterday?” She said, imitating the man’s voice.

Rowan chuckled and took another oatcake “that’s the gist.”

Once the appetisers were over, Aelin stood and went to get the next course. That was the surprise and the dish that meant the most.

She brought the oven dish to the dining table.

“You made mac and cheese.” Rowan’s tone was full of love.

“I did.” She took his plate and was ready to serve him his portion. It looked great and for a moment she had hoped. The recipe was for the baked version and the crust at the top looked golden and crunchy. Then she dipped the spatula to cut it and terror took her. It was runny. 

“No, no, no, no, no…” she panicked.

“What happened?” Rowan stood and moved at her side.

“It happened that I should not be allowed to cook.” She sat on the chair and sniffled.

“I am sure it’s not that bad…”

“Ro,” Aelin almost shouted in frustration at his tone “you can drink it with a straw, mac and cheese is supposed to be creamy.”

He looked over “I think you put too much milk,” and with his hand he brushed her lower back in support.

Aelin started sobbing “I messed up the main dish. It was meant to be like the one we shared in my office.”

Rowan was about to reply when he smelled smoke “is something burning?”

“Holy fuck,” Aelin stood abruptly and ran to the kitchen and when she opened the oven a cloud of smoke engulfed her. The roast and the potatoes where charcoal. She sat dejected in front of the oven  and Rowan joined and sat at her side “you have the most useless girlfriend ever.”  

He brushed her hair off her face “ I do not.” A gentle kiss on her lips “my girl is brilliant, fearless, intelligent and very, very hot.” She gave him a wet chuckle. Gods, she loved him.

“I ruined our anniversary.”

Rowan stood and offered her his hand “you did not.” She took it and stood in front of him.

“We are going to Emrys, he does some amazing mac and cheese.”

“Fine,” she conceded.

Rowan cupped her face, refusing to let her be sad. He knew Aelin was not good at cooking and he had tried to teach her but once on her own she seemed to struggle. 

But as the boyfriend madly in love with her he was more than happy to cook for both, everyday, forever.

Aelin did not seem convinced and still pouted at her mess. Rowan noticed that and cupped her face in his hand and kissed het tenderly “Hey, it was a lovely gesture and I am proud of you.” He took her hand in his, “now let’s go.”

They got changed and not long after they were walking to Emrys. Rowan’s arm on around her shoulder.

Aelin looked up at him and noticed a strange light in his eyes and a small grin. Whatever it was, he did not seem bothered by her fiasco.

Once they reached Emrys froze and cursed the evening that was turning into pure hell “it’s Monday, they are close. We are two idiots.” But all Rowan did was to push her toward the front door.

“Ro, they are closed.”

“Shush,” he said gently placing his hand on her lower back.

A moment later Emrys’ smiling face appeared on the door “hello Rowan, come in, it’s all ready.” Said the man stepping aside to let them in.

Aelin was stunned. speechless. He had an evening planned.

She turned to him “did you know I was going to mess up so you had a plan b?” Her tone full with irritation at his lack of trust in her.

Rowan looked at her, his eyes dancing with mirth “I didn’t even know you were going to cook. I booked all of this over a week ago.” He told her “I knew our anniversary would fall on a Monday, so I asked Emrys and Malakai if it was okay to use the place for our dinner.”

She stood on her tiptoes “I love you.” And kissed him. Rowan took her hand and walked inside the main room of the restaurant and Aelin again was stunned. The whole room had been decorated with white fairy lights, the table had candles and there were kingsflames in a vase as well.

“Happy anniversary, Fireheart.” And pulled her to his chest “I hope you’ll love this.”

“It’s perfect,” she said to him, feeling teary.

They sat down and Malakai brought wine “Emrys is just finishing up the last few things, it should not be too long.” Explained the man while pouring the wine.

He came back a moment later and brought back freshly baked pitta bread and hummus “just as a starter.”

Aelin attacked the appetisers, realising she was starving.

Once the appetiser was out of the way Rowan took her hand.

“I am glad I burned dinner, this is so much better.”

They had gone to Emrys for their first date which turned out to be their favourite restaurant and slowly their weekly dinner treat. It had become their place pretty quickly.

She was talking to Rowan when she noticed Emrys walking to them with a large oven dish and when Aelin looked, she saw mac and cheese. And it looked incredible.

“Of course,” said Rowan at her expression and poured more wine. It was a good thing they walked. Emrys plated their dinner and then walked away with a Cheshire cat grin.

“Go on, tuck in,” Rowan said to her once he noticed her eager expression.

Aelin did so and almost moaned savagely. It was divine.

After a few bites Rowan put the fork down and took her hand again, brushing his thumb on the top of it “thank you for walking into me that day in the cafeteria.” He told her, his green eyes on her “I know we had our ups and downs but these five years with you have been incredible.” He stood and took her hand inviting her to follow him. She stood with him and Rowan pulled Aelin to his chest. She wanted to complain she was eating, but whatever he was doing it seemed important.

Violin music spread in the room and Aelin recognised one of her favourite pieces of classical music. He swayed gently as if to dance, placed her hand on his shoulder and held her, his hand on her lower back.

“And I hope we’ll have many more together.” Aelin looked up at him and nodded, emotions threatening to overwhelm her. He kissed her with passion and then he pulled back a little “Aelin, my fireheart, will you do me the honour of joining me in the next adventure of our life and become my wife?”

Aelin sobbed loudly “only if you promise to keep cooking for me.”

Rowan laughed “Always.”

She threw her arms around his neck “yes, yes I will marry you.”

Rowan placed the ring on her finger then lifted her in his arms and kissed her. 

He would cook for her, make her happy until his last day.

To whatever end.

[rare-and-beautiful-things]

Thank you so much for doing the last one! The way you write these just feels so right for the characters and it’s so so good!!

If it hasn’t all ready been requested, could I get one about the boys (anyone you feel like writing for, but you were right about me liking the Union bastards haha) and how they feel about/the way they cuddle and or show affection? Thanks so much and I hope you have a good one!

Awww you're so sweet! 💙 And that's a fun one, thank you! I also kinda touched the pda topic since it felt relevant. Hope you like it~

C*ddles and aff*ction

ft. the Union bastards

Donald Na

Is not the most affectionate person. There would be no... intentional or obvious pda in a sense that he won't hold your hand or blow you kisses, but he won't bother pretending you're not together either? (Unless it's a strictly secret relationship for some reason) Like, he'll give you that little half-smile of his, stand closer to you, be a tad more touchy in a non-intimidating way. He'll look at you longer than he usually looks at people, and his gaze will be more tender.

I suppose I can just say that his main way of showing affection is just... not putting a facade. He'll be more open with you, and it will be noticeable even to other people, but if they think they can use it? or that he'll be nicer to them in your presence? Yeah, jokes on them. Donald actually can be persuaded to be a touch nicer to other people but it'll take a LOT of work. Like, not even just emotional work, but straight up work in the Union

Cuddles are... difficult. I think at the start he'll outright reject you if you try to get him to cuddle you, but at some point, especially if you manage to force him to cuddle and he gets a taste of what it's like, he'll want cuddles desperately. Probably won't show it, but the desire is there.

The problem with cuddles is that they take time, and Donald feels like the time spent cuddling is wasted. Yeah, sure, he feels rested and loved and safe in the process and afterwards, but it's not Productive™, y'know? The amount of work doesn't lessen, it just gets bigger, even more copious while he lounges on his couch with you like some useless moron.

It's a little easier if you're often at Yeouinaru for one reason or another. Then he'll be able to find some time in between meetings, paperwork and studying to lay on his couch and cuddle you. It's rather short usually, no longer than half an hour. He'd just lie on his back and let you lay on him, run his fingers through your hair and along your spine. His couch doesn't allow enough space for spooning but he'd the big spoon if you found a sufficient place.

I think he kinda needs to be the little spoon sometimes - or whatever the equivalent is for when you don't spoon and just cuddle. He'll never admit it, but it just needs to be done from time to time, like once every quarter. As a therapeutic measure, y'know?

Kingsley Kwan

Hugs are therapeutic, you know? You should get at least one decent hug every day to avoid getting depressed and dying from sorrow. Kingsley will make sure you get your daily dose of hugs, will be really routine and thorough about it too.

Doesn't mind pda if it's about affection and not the publicness. Will hold your hand if you want him to but don't make a Thing out of it.

Ready to comply to your needs more often than not. You're touch averse? Sure, he gets that, no unnecessary touching. You skin ship a lot? Also totally fine. You wanna be the big spoon even though you're like a foot shorter than him?.. allrrright, gonna be uncomfy but he can make it work.

Ask him for a kiss on your cheek one day, and he'll do it every day. If you want something done just once, not repeatedly, you'd better specify right away.

Cuddles are good. Healthy. Sedative. Just what you need after a tiring day. Will gladly cuddle you to sleep if you stay over/ live together. Likes spooning and is usually the big spoon. It just makes sense considering how tall he is, you know?

Wolf Keum

Rather indifferent about pda. Like, he's not doing shit to give people a show, y'know? He does it because he wants to. So what does it matter if you're in public or not?

Doesn't initiate physical contact often, but doesn't deny it to you either. You wanna hold his hand? Sure. You wanna hug him? Just don't sneak up on him or his reflexes might get the better of him and he'll end up elbowing you or something worse. But otherwise it's fine too.

He'll wrap an arm around your shoulders sometimes if you're comfortable with that, grab you by the arm other times, but this is all rather rare... Will do that more often later in the relationship though, when he gets used to non-violent physical contact.

He'll set up traps for you though. 😈 He'll be lounging around, sitting somewhere, all comfortable and warm and smelling of blood and cigarette smoke, you'll just naturally want to get closer. Maybe hug him or lean on him or sit on his lap... And he'll let you! It will be all nice and good - until you try to get away, that is. Then his hands turn into a vicious vice! And you're trapped. No going away until he mercifully decides to let you go which can be like... literal hours.

Probably likes to cuddle more than he'd care to admit. Is always the big spoon. Loves that the position allows him easy access to your neck while preventing you from getting away. So you'll just enjoy being wrapped in his protective embrace and then all of a sudden feel his teeth on your neck or shoulder. He'll bite really hard to feel you writhing, hear you whimpering. Might kiss it better after he's satisfied tho.

Jimmy Bae & Jack Kang

Jimmy would be insufferable on his own, but in a poly relationship with Jack he's surprisingly... adequate? Really surprising cuz Jack wouldn't do anything to stop him from making an ass of himself most of the time, he'd just be there and his aura of calming indifference would be enough. Not that Jack is truly indifferent, mind you. But he has the aura.

Jimmy would love pda, and it would be at least as much about the publicness as about the affection if not more. He'll put his arm around your shoulders or on your lower back or into the back pocket of your jeans. He wants to show off. But if there's Jack nearby that desire lessens a bit. He won't make a scene if you're just lounging around with Jack.

Jack isn't much into pda. He's not particularly into handholding since he prefers his hands into his pockets when they're not being actively used. Will be more expressive around you though, instinctively stand closer to you. Won't mind if you lean on him like on some kind of wall, might actually hug you then.

Jimmy's hugs are rare, mostly private, unexpectedly warm. He'll love hugging you while you sit on his lap, putting his chin on your sholder and playing with his phone or something.

You can also lie or sit on his back while he's doing push ups, he'll love it. He gets some nice physical contact AND to show off his strength! If it's not perfection, than what is?

Jack's hugs are firm, secure and even more rare than Jimmy's. Will mostly hug when one of you needs comfort. Won't deny you a hug if you just go for it though but will soon pat you on the back as if saying 'alright, now can I get out?' Will literally say it out loud if you hold him long enough.

Cuddles are mandatory. It's better if you all live together otherwise you'll have to make do with some club room at school. You're gonna be sandwiched between them. One of them is holding you from behind, another lying face to face with you. None of them will be the little spoon. Might be persuaded to try it but they just won't enjoy the feeling, so you're stuck with the position. Yep, even if you're taller than them.

Grape

He's social and rather tactile, so pda is natural and casual with him. It's natural for him to hold your hand while going somewhere, or half-hugging you, or touching your back, or putting a strand of your hair behind your ear when he sees that it's out of place. He doesn't make a thing out of it, but something barely noticeable in the way he does this things makes it undeniably romantic.

What he does make a thing of is selfies. Cameras. Social media. You better be into it if you're with him cuz he wants to show off his precious s/o to the world.

Grape is versatile. Bear hugs? Gentle romantic hugs? Big or little spoon? No spooning, just cuddling? You name it, he can do it all. And he will do it all - depending on the mood, his and yours current needs and wants, the time of day, the weather and a variety of other factors. It can make him unpredictable but not in a bad way. He's very good at reading the mood so if you're not quarrelling you can trust that he'll give you just what you needed. If you're at odds though he may be a little shit and make your bad situation even worse... Will feel bad and make it up to you tho.

He can be a little insecure about being in a protected positions at first. Like, being a little spoon or letting you hug him from behind. With a bit of help he gets over it fast though, and once he does, all is well.

Forrest Lee

So very tactile, but SO very repressed. Touch-starved af. In terms of affection Forrest Lee in the beginning of a romantic relationship and later on might as well be two different people.

In the beginning he'll be like 'alright, I got a s/o. Dunno how but I did. Hey, Grape, you see them? They're not imaginary, right? Right, good. So now I should just act cool and don't fuck up. They're probably with me because of my position in the Union, so must work hard to keep it going. Also be cool.' *dies*

He'll be so uptight. Hands in his pockets, expression carefully schooled into some cool indifference. Huh? You wanna hold his hand? Umm, alright. *blushes like crazy and dies* If you try talking to him while holding his hand, his replies will be like ten seconds late, cuz his brain is overheated and barely functioning.

You... want to cuddle him?.. Ummm..... Alllrright.... if you're sure... *holds you stiffly, doesn't breath, doesn't move, dies*

But it gets better over time, y'know? Once he gets used to it, he'll want affection constantly and he will shower you in it. Might still be a little embarrassed to do pda but mostly wouldn't care.

All the little touches, the handholding, stroking your hair, running his thumb over your cheek or the palm of your hand. Any and all manners of hugs. If initiating will usually hug you from behind, but is happy with literally any type of hug.

Doesn't care much for position when cuddling either. Just cuddle him, please. Would be a little embarrassed about being the little spoon, but all the embarrassment evaporates as soon as he's in your arms.

[akaashisupremacy]

How to Find Love

Summary: Iwaizumi is on a quest to find love with an old friend. What can he do to get there?

Iwaizumi x fem!reader/Oc || Read it on A03

Genre : romance, friends to lovers

Hajime Iwaizumi ran into the cafe, eyes wide and panicky. “I’m already twenty minutes late for the date.”

As he composed himself before he entered the place, he took a deep breath. He was determined to enjoy this date because it might be their last. Hiromi had never taken lateness kindly.

“Gomen, the meeting ran longer than expected,“ he said, nodding his head into a bow, too embarrassed to meet her eyes, “I’m so sorry.”

She looked up from her books with a weary smile. Beside her was a pile of four or five books, some of which were beginning to yellow, meticulously tabbed with colorful post-its.

“You still made it,” she said, closing her book “I usually walk out if my date was a full hour late.”

It was a Thursday. She had an afternoon at the library while he had an early off (if it wasn’t for his work meeting). Neither of them worked traditional 9 to5 jobs. He began to wonder if seeing each other would be easier if they did. Iwa was leaving on a Friday for Osaka for the rest of the weekend. He was a physical trainer for a professional volleyball team, which meant that he travelled with them during their season.

They called for a menu and began to order what would be their dinner.

“How’s work?” he asked, surveying her through the menu.

“It’s a lot of reading,” she gestured towards her stack of books, “But we’re at the beginning of a new research-heavy campaign so it’s normal. How about you?"

“Mmm…it’s still the start of the season so most of the team is quite healthy. Some of them are a little excited so we’re just trying to reign them in to keep them from straining themselves.” he said, thumbing through the pages.

He had settled for a hamburg curry rice while she had gone for a bowl of tuna pasta. She looked distracted.

“What’s up?” he asked, leaning into the table now that the niceties were done with.

“I like my job. I like my team. But why do I feel like I’m just grinding day in and day out." she sighed, resting her chin on her books, “There’s got to be more in adult life than this."

“You’ve got to find the reason out on your own because your employer won’t do it for you. Not that I’m qualified to give advice or anything.” he said, looking up from his drink.

“I know,” she murmured, her head rested between her folded arms “It’s just so difficult to find the energy for it sometimes.”

Iwaizumi nodded. He knew what she meant. No one job could fulfill all his desires for accomplishment. He liked his job, but it wasn’t a perfect job. He wished that he didn’t need to spend so many weekends away from home.

Man, this date was sobering.

“You sound burnt out. Maybe take it slower at work?” he quirked his head to match the angle of hers.

“What is it that you want to do that you’re not doing for work?” he asked. Despite less than a year in the workforce, she already looked so glum.

She pulled herself up and swept her books aside, “I don’t know to be honest. Within the next two years, I just want to be published in other big publications. It doesn’t have to be necessarily on food, more like the stuff I write for fun. The stuff I’m willing to freelance while I have a day job, y’know?”

“Like what?”

Their order had arrived. She stabbed her fork into her pasta and gently twirled it around.

“The New York Times has a column called Modern Love where you write a long essay about some type of love. It doesn’t have to be romantic. It can be platonic, familial, or even failed love as long as it is set in modern day. I’ve been meaning to write about my failed relationships.” she said thoughtfully.

Iwa choked on his first spoonful.

“Well, if this doesn’t work out, I can at least write about it. Get three hundred dollars and buy you dinner to thank you for the experience.” she laughed drily.

“Are you always this pessimistic on your first dates?” he coughed, taking a sip of water “Either ways, I’m glad to be of help.”

She perked up a bit and grinned. Her whole face lit up when she smiled. A wave of warmth washed over him.

“Send me a copy when you get published.” he added, “I want to see what you write about me.”

“I’m definitely going to writet that you were late on the first date.” she said without skipping a beat. She was grateful that they had chosen this cafe. There were not too many people even if it was dinner time, yet the ambient noise that filled the air kept their pauses from being too silent.

Iwa stopped eating and squinted his eyes at her, “You are not gonna let me live this down, huh?" She winked at him with a glint in her eye. He smiled in response.

He couldn’t care less about what the New York Times was but she was evidently fascinated by it. He wasn’t going to own up to uncultured swine he was on a first date. He had already been late.

“Anyways tell me more about this Modern Love.” he settled back into his dinner.

She pulled out her phone and began typing, “The Modern Love column came out with questions to help get to know someone. This could be a fun date activity.”

“Sure, you want to give it a go?”

She shoved the phone in his face and scrolled through the questions. “There are three sets of questions. Each set more intimate than the last. You can choose from the first set.”

Iwa lightly held the phone, his fingertips grazing the back of her hand. He chose the first question that caught his eye.

“Number 4. What would constitute a ‘perfect’ day for you?” he read out loud. Hiromi took her phone back and read the question to herself.

“What’s your answer?” she asked.

“I just got back, I hadn’t figured out what a perfect day would be like here.” he shrugged sincerely.

She snorted loudly, “What a cop out answer!”

Iwa looked up and thought for a bit, “A day spent walking around in the city…maybe a day that starts with a morning jog and a hot unrushed breakfast after. Catching up with friends sounds good too.”

Hiromi nodded. She was fully absorbed as he talked. It was like she was going through the scenes of his day in his mind as he described them.

“What about you?” he asked, snapping out of her out of her reverie.

“A day at the market,” she said quietly. ”Any market day is a good day really.”

“To be honest, it doesn’t depend on the activities so much at times. The people you’re with is definitely important. A day at the market can still be terrible with the wrong company.” she added.

“I wasn’t subpar last weekend, was I?” he asked.

“No...you weren’t.” she replied a little more shyly than usual.

They moved onto the next question.

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?” she read out loud, “Doesn’t have to be romantic again.”

Iwaizumi inhaled sharply. That was such a loaded question.

“If you’ll use this for an article and it gets published, you better buy me dinner someplace nice.” he tutted.

“Then make this one good.” she smirked.

Iwaizumi stopped eating for a few minutes to think through the question. Before he answered, he closed his eyes and breathed out slowly.

“It defined my entire career in volleyball. My best friend and I watched a game and we kind of chose to go into the same school team after that because we were both so obsessed with the sport. Our connection was almost telepathic. We barely used signals when it was just the two of us. We basically ran off instinct.” said he softly, his eyes reminiscing a different time.

“Although we went our separate ways after high school, I spent so much time in volleyball that it defined a huge part of who I was too. I mean, if I didn’t play volleyball, I would probably be in another sport, but I’d still think I’d be different, y’know?”

You could tell he was avoiding the word “love.” Iwa was not one to be vulnerable.

“In college when I was in my first serious relationship, it was the type of love that gave me confidence and assurance. But I guess it wasn’t enough…for me to say it deeply impacted my later choices on career and other decisions, unlike volleyball.”

“I can’t help but feel that any defining…relationship I have romantically will be weighed against with my time with volleyball…my first real love…" he tried to laugh it off, but you felt the weight off his words, “And I’ve been lucky enough to have enough love in my life that I don’t need to constantly be in a relationship to feel complete.”

A moment of silence fell in between the two.

“That’s a lot to heap on a relationship.” she whispered in contemplation.

Iwa awkwardly scrambled for damage control, “…no pressure.” was all he managed to say.

“So why try to date? When it’s so tough to find someone who can match up with volleyball?” she asked.

“Companionship?” he shrugged, “It’s still nice to date around.”

“And you’re…nice. I’ve been wanting to date you since we were in college. I’ve liked you for a long time…” his entire face flushed pink.

Her eyes fluttered wide open. Since college? Is he serious?

“Our friends were right,” she said in a hush, “You did have a thing for me. I thought they were just teasing us.”

“You had a boyfriend back then and when you broke up with him, I was seeing someone else.” he exhaled, looking her earnestly in the eye, “Wasn’t it obvious to you?”

Iwaizumi couldn’t tell if Hiromi just didn’t want to speak or was too busy contemplating. She was too stunned to speak.

“It felt like fate seeing you on the plane.”

A million things were going through her mind, she slowly opened her mouth, “Now that we’ve been on two half dates, what’s it like? Is this what you’d thought it would be?”

“College is very different from now, but the short answer is yes.” he nodded, rolling his shoulders back. “Everything just clicks. I’m so comfortable with you. It’s so easy for us to talk. I like you just as much as I did in college…I just really like you. Time hasn’t changed that at all.”

Hiromi looked overwhelmed. She was unable to look him in the eye. She was barely getting to know him romantically and he had long been decided about his feelings for her.

“Do you wanna ask if they sell alcohol here? You look like you need a drink.” he joked. Hiromi didn’t look like she heard him.

"This is so intense for a first date.” she shook her head in what seemed like regret.

“We can stop,” he gently interjected, “We can talk about something else.”

She finally looked up to him and whispered, “Hajime, you’ve just dumped a lot of pressure on me.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to do that,” he smiled apologetically, “Anyways, I’m aware that we’re both at different…stages of attraction. Besides, I think this would be way more awkward if we both were pining.”

“Wouldn’t that be sweeter?” she asked.

“Way too sappy for me.” he waved with his hand. Hiromi let out a small chuckle. Iwa secretly sighed in relief.

——————————————————————————— After dinner, they headed to the arcade to blow off some steam. Iwaizumi offered to carry some of her books to which he somewhat regretted. Her books were like rocks. How the hell was she lugging them on her own in the city?

“I could carry them on my own if it’s too heavy.” she offered.

Iwaizumi looked at her incredulously. She was at least half a foot shorter and much smaller in build. His biceps weren’t going to buck in front of her.

They wandered around the arcade for a bit, unsure what to do first. Iwa silently prayed they didn’t have to do any dancing. Just when they were about to decide on the claw machine, Hiromi pointed towards a small karaoke booth at the corner of her eye.

“Let’s go in there.” she tugged at his jacket.

Iwaizumi flipped through the songs. None of them seemed to be in Japanese. All of them were in English.

“Did you pick up a default english karaoke song?” she asked, browsing through the catalogue. The room was clearly designed for kids. It was so small their knees touched and Iwa could barely sit up without hitting his head on the ceiling.

“Nah,” he shook his head, “I don’t really sing…in English. Any suggestions?”

Hiromi typed in the number of a song.

“I’m about to introduce you to your first usable English karaoke song.” she grinned at him mischievously. Iwa looked at her suspiciously.

The opening notes started to play—some acoustic guitar and a trumpet. The song sounded…Mexican? For the longest time there were no lyrics on the screen. Hiromi swayed to beat as her eyes were glued to the screen. When the song finally began to hit what sounded like the chorus, the music paused for a second.

“TEQUILA!” she yelled into the mic.

Iwaizumi was so startled he jumped up and hit his head on the ceiling. Hiromi was giggling uncontrollably.

“That’s it?!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah,” she laughed, pressing the mic towards him, “You try on the next chorus.”

When the trumpets began playing, Iwa readied himself. The song hits its familiar pause soon enough and he pulls the mic closer to his lips.

“Tequila?” he said tentatively.

“With more conviction, Hajime!” she urged, taking back the mic. On the third chorus, she moved closer to him so they could share the mic.

The music hits its third pause, they looked at each other and yelled, “TEQUILA!”

They both grinned and laughed, almost as if the act of singing about alcohol was like a drink in itself. He could feel her shins pressed against him as she continued to sway for the music. A glint in her eye flickered as she nudged him to dance along with her.

Iwaizumi wasn’t going to refuse. Especially not on their first date. He swayed what he could on the tiny box while the song lasted.

————————————————————————— At the end of the night, they both sat in the train waiting to get off on their respective stops. The carriage shuttled back and forth, pushing and pulling their bodies back and forth into each other.

“Hajime,” she tapped him on his shoulder, “We didn’t finish the last set. Let’s do a quick one before I get off.”

He nodded, “Pick one we can answer with just one word.”

Hiromi swiftly browsed the list, before looking up.

“Finish the sentence, ‘Right now, we are both feeling…’"

Their faces were both so close they could feel the heat of each other’s breath. The back of their hands were touching, but neither dared to reach out or pull away.

“Hopeful.” whispered Hiromi, an evident earnestness in her voice. She was fighting off her shyness just long enough to look him in the eye when she talked.

Iwa smiled, “Smitten.”

Before she could react, the train jolted as it shuffled towards her station.The train stopped at Hiromi’s station and she got up from her seat, taking the books from Iwa’s arms.

He followed her to the exit and watched her as she got off. She gave a small wave from the platform while she watched the doors closed.

Iwa was tempted to press his hands onto the window, unwilling to end their time for the evening. His last sight of her was her smile when the train plunged itself into the night.

“Did he start out his day at the market with a morning jog?” she asked herself, watching the train swiftly pull away.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath. The night had gone differently from how he thought the date would proceed. For one thing, he didn’t expect to confess so early into the relationship.

He took his phone and curiously googled the questions she mentioned.

It turns out the title of the New York Times article was not “Questions to Get to Know Your Date” as Hiromi had led him to believe. Instead, it was titled, “Thirty Six Questions That Lead to Love”.

“Huh,” he said to himself. He shut off the screen to his phone.

36 was too much. In his opinion 3 was enough.

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

This is part 3 of a series on Iwa living in Tokyo after he moves back from California. Comment or message to be added to the taglist. 

Also, I’ve been feeling quite down lately, so say some nice things if you feel like it in the comments 😬✌️

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

Series taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan

[hakasims]

The Most In-depth Analysis of Luca Marinelli’s Characters You’ll Ever Need

You’d think I was done with classifications, but I’m not! There’s so much more I can say about Luca Marinelli’s oeuvre and his magnificent roster of characters. And yes, I’ve made this post before where I highlighted specific tropes that show up in a lot of his movies, but that was surface-level shit. This is an actual exploration of what makes a Luca Marinelli character besides being a kinky little whore. And don’t worry, it’s still in that user-friendly question-answer format because I love you.

Here’s the thing: Luca is a chameleon but he also has a type, and this type is:

✨ a (likely) queer repressed addict with daddy issues ✨

That’s the skeleton. Let’s see how many of his major roles possess that skeleton at all and what flavors they add to the picture.

Disclaimer: I excluded characters with little screen time and Joseph from Mary of Nazareth because he doesn’t deserve rights. Also, instead of going in the boring chronological order, I’m gonna start with the least typical character for Luca and end with the crème de la crème. The results may not surprise you.

Nicky (The Old Guard)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? No.

Does he have an addiction? No.

Does he have daddy issues? I know we’re all deeply affected by our shitty father figures but I would genuinely question Nicky’s sanity if he were still on that shit at the ripe age of 951. A little tip for daddy-hating immortals out there: just do what Angel did and kill your shitty dad. Problem solved.

Is he violent? Despite doling out tons of violence, he doesn’t have a violent nature and seems uninterested in hating his enemy or delivering retribution.

Does he need a good night sleep? I’m sure nothing helps one sleep better than a Joe-shaped big spoon.

Does he need a good cry? Doesn’t seem like it.

Flavors: A perfect immortal warrior bean in a healthy relationship.

Conclusion: Ironically but unsurprisingly, Nicky is the least Luca-like character.

Guido (Tutti i santi giorni)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so but who knows? If someone told me he’s demisexual, I’d believe it.

Is he repressed? The movie may disagree, but I say yes, obviously.

Does he have an addiction? Not unless you count his romantic relationship.

Does he have daddy issues? His family is so supportive and wholesome it’s almost parodic.

Is he violent? He’s the opposite of a toxic macho dude, but then he has a violent outburst out of nowhere because the movie is bad.

Does he need a good night sleep? He doesn’t like sleeping at night.

Does he need a good cry? Naturally.

Flavors: An adorkable awkward nerd with flowery speech.

Conclusion: I can forgive straightness and wholesomeness but I can’t forgive lack of complexity.

Martin (Martin Eden)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? Yes.

Does he have an addiction? No.

Does he have daddy issues? Not to my knowledge.

Is he violent? When he deems it necessary to be.

Does he need a good night sleep? Sure.

Does he need a good cry? Cry your little heart out, Martin!

Flavors: An arrogant, pretentious, politically confused writer.

Conclusion: A little too straight for your typical Luca, but he makes up for it with being complex and complicated.

Loris (Il mondo fino in fondo)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? So fucking repressed!

Does he have an addiction? Nothing beyond his savior complex.

Does he have daddy issues? He has a shitty dad he’s spent his whole life trying to please, and also his mommy left, so like yeah, obviously.

Is he violent? He has his straight dude moments.

Does he need a good night sleep? Definitely.

Does he need a good cry? Oh yeah, let him cry, it’s good for him.

Flavors: A casually homophobic mother hen.

Conclusion: Ruined by heterosexual agenda.

Lui (Ricordi?)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? Very.

Does he have an addiction? No.

Does he have daddy issues? A big sack of them.

Is he violent? No.

Does he need a good night sleep? Oh yes. To sleep, perchance to dream about anything other than his traumatic memories.

Does he need a good cry? So much.

Flavors: Up-his-butt and pensive.

Conclusion: Leave it to Luca to take a guy who would be an absolute nightmare in real life and turn him into someone I actually want to watch for two hours and see happy by the end.

Gabriele (Waves)

Is he queer? There’s evidence he might be gay.

Is he repressed? I’d bet on it.

Does he have an addiction? Doesn’t seem like it.

Does he have daddy issues? Nobody knows.

Is he violent? No.

Does he need a good night sleep? He probably will with how the movie ended.

Does he need a good cry? At least one.

Flavors: A sweet introverted guy who loves boats.

Conclusion: While not particularly complex, Gabriele has layers and nuances. Also give him a big muscular daddy.

Fabrizio (Fabrizio de André - Principe libero)

Is he queer? I don’t believe so.

Is he repressed? He was before music became his only career.

Does he have an addiction? Alcohol, cigarettes, sex, cheating - take your pick.

Does he have daddy issues? Not as bad as some of the other guys here but he’s heard his fair share of “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed” speeches.

Is he violent? He’s soft.

Does he need a good night sleep? He’s an artist, what do you think?

Does he need a good cry? He’s an artist, what do you think?

Flavors: Fabrizio de André is the flavor.

Conclusion: Even though it’s a biopic, there are still many Luca-isms there. He’s just that kind of actor.

Milton (Una questione privata)

Is he queer? It could be argued that he is bisexual.

Is he repressed? Do you even need to ask?

Does he have an addiction? About half of the breaths he takes are filled with cigarette smoke.

Does he have daddy issues? He seems to have a good and loving relationship with both his parents.

Is he violent? Not by nature.

Does he need a good night sleep? Yep.

Does he need a good cry? He certainly does.

Flavors: A repressed bisexual feeling powerless in a horrible world.

Conclusion: This is proof that Luca can carry a whole entire movie on his sexy shoulders, alone. Also Milton needs a safe and loving triad.

Mattia (La solitudine dei numeri primi)

Is he queer? I personally read him as asexual. Though assigning asexuality to characters who are traumatized is a dangerous path so don’t quote me on this, okay?

Is he repressed? Just the most repressed.

Does he have an addiction? It’s debatable whether self-harm and eating disorders can be considered addictions, but they’re part of his character, and I thought you should know.

Does he have daddy issues? His parents played their part in messing him up which then led to the big thing that really messed him up, though other than that his dad is barely a presence.

Is he violent? Not at all.

Does he need a good night sleep? At least 17 hours.

Does he need a good cry? Oh, so much. He needs all the cry.

Flavors: A quiet genius with lots of guilt.

Conclusion: Can you believe this was his first film role? Our boy is talented af!

Fabio (Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? You could argue that he is repressed by being limited in his place in social hierarchy.

Does he have an addiction? Amazingly enough, no. He has fixations, though.

Does he have daddy issues? Thinking his father was a loser and not wanting to end up like him is textbook stuff.

Is he violent? Very.

Does he need a good night sleep? Yes please.

Does he need a good cry? He needs to purge his soul from all the bottled up stuff.

Flavors: A campy psycho.

Conclusion: Luca’s most iconic character, so of course he scored high on the list.

Paolo (Il padre d’Italia)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? I can’t even start listing all the ways in which he’s repressed.

Does he have an addiction? He smokes a lot.

Does he have daddy issues? His issues are more of a mommy variety.

Is he violent? Not in the slightest.

Does he need a good night sleep? He’s the poster boy for needing a good night sleep.

Does he need a good cry? A good cry, a good weep, a good sob, a good bawl, *googles more synonyms* a good wail, a good squall...

Flavors: A self-loathing gay orphan in need of some life goodness.

Conclusion: What can I say about Paolo that all of you aren’t already thinking? Decent film, great character, excellent portrayal.

Mickey (Die Pfeiler der Macht)

Is he queer? Undeniably.

Is he repressed? It’s Victorian England, you guys.

Does he have an addiction? He smokes casually but other than that... eh. And don’t tell me he has sex addiction. He uses his body strategically.

Does he have daddy issues? If what he has isn’t daddy issues, I don’t know what is.

Is he violent? He’s got tons of bottled up aggression.

Does he need a good night sleep? It would be great if he could use the day’s darkest hours for sleeping.

Does he need a good cry? Undeniably.

Flavors: A conniving slut extraordinaire.

Conclusion: A major player in the book (says me who managed like 50 pages), Mickey Miranda was turned into such a nothing character in the miniseries that they needed a truly extraordinary actor to make him memorable. And guess what, Luca delivered.

Cesare (Non essere cattivo)

Is he queer? Not explicitly, but come on.

Is he repressed? Lethally.

Does he have an addiction? He’s an addiction textbook.

Does he have daddy issues? *Jake Peralta voice* Yeah, the guy without a daddy is the one with daddy issues. Explain that logic.

Is he violent? Oh yeah, he’s a rabid little trash goblin.

Does he need a good night sleep? So much.

Does he need a good cry? He’s had his fair share of good cries, but he could always use more.

Flavors: A aimless junkie.

Conclusion: The quintessential Luca. Beautiful.

Primo (Trust)

Is he queer? Listen, just because we don’t see him fuck a dude on screen it doesn’t mean he isn’t a motherfluffing queer icon. It’s not subtext; it’s TEXT.

Is he repressed? Where do I even fucking start?

Does he have an addiction? Oh yeah. And a coke nail to prove it.

Does he have daddy issues? I would need a whole separate post to unpack his daddy issues.

Is he violent? So very violent.

Does he need a good night sleep? Yes, please. On an actual bed in an actual bedroom.

Does he need a good cry? You can just tell.

Flavors: A ruthless criminal with a strong mafia boss potential.

Conclusion: The pièce de résistance of the Luca Marinelli filmography. Not only does he tick every box, he gets bonus points for the excellent wardrobe choices that emphasize Luca’s best features. Primo Nizzuto is everything great you want from Luca, except singing. (Though in my headcanon that whole white car in a snowstorm monologue was a musical number.)

[izzyfandoms]

Everyone/deceit where the others are trying to get Janus to blush by flirting As a challenge? Ficlet?

(This ended up a full oneshot length lol, so this is no longer a ficlet, hope you enjoy!)

Flustered Snake

SHIPS: Dukeceit, Loceit, Moceit, Roceit, Anxceit, Thomceit (Everyone x Janus)

WARNINGS: Remus makes some sexual comments/implications

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @glassferns @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez

Masterpost

The moment that Janus stepped into the living area of the mindscape, a pair of hands behind him landed on his hips. He froze in place, immediately feeling the heat of a blush crawl up his neck, across his face and to the tips of his ears. He was sure that his skin was now an obvious, bright red.

The voice that belonged to the pair of hands cackled at that, and a chin came to rest on Janus's head, revealing it to be Remus behind him.

(Unfortunately, the twins were much taller than Janus, and they both loved to take advantage of it: especially when it flustered the deceitful side, as it often did. He both despised and adored that fact, not that he'd ever admit to the latter out loud.)

That made Janus relax slightly - he recognised the voice, so it wasn't somehow a stranger with their hands on his hips - though his creeping blush only worsened.

"You seem flustered, snake," he said, and Janus could practically hear the grin in his voice. "What's up?"

"Shut up," Janus hissed, crossing his arms.

He didn't move out of Remus's grip, though, and instead leant back against the other side's chest. Remus then gently squeezed his hips, and Janus almost regretted staying in place.

"Comfy?"

"We are standing in the living room."

Remus chuckled - the sound low and just beside Janus's ear, rumbling through his whole body.

"We could always move to somewhere comfier," Remus grinned. "Like my bed."

Janus huffed and rolled his eyes. "In your dreams."

"All my dreams. Day and night. Wanna recreate them?"

"Never."

"You know, I'm talking 'bout fu-"

"I know what you're talking about," Janus hissed, feeling his face somehow redden even further. "And no."

Janus could practically hear Remus's pout.

"Aw, but-"

"No! Shut up!"

"Make me?" Remus offered.

Janus groaned, and buried his face in his hands.

***

It had taken quite a few minutes, but Janus had finally managed to distract Remus with food - disgusting and rotten, inedible food - and gotten away.

(If he'd really wanted Remus to stop flirting with him, and had just made the simple request, Remus would have done so with little hesitation. But Janus's obvious blush and moments of almost returned flirtations had only spurred the other side on.)

(Janus could flirt. In the past he had smoothly and calmly flirted with the other sides on numerous occasions, but the moment they flirted back, he was done for. They had only now begun to take advantage of this, and Janus couldn't for the life of him figure out why.)

He was halfway across the mindscape's long hallway - halfway to his bedroom, where he could wallow in his flustered state in peace - when he was stopped in his tracks by Logan's voice behind him.

"Janus, are you busy?"

Janus suppressed a sigh.

"Obviously," he clearly lied, starting to turn around. "What do you nee-"

The last word was cut off by a strangled noise (accompanied with widening eyes and a sharp intake of breath) as his eyes landed on the very shirtless Logan standing in front of him. He was... more in shape that Janus had expected, but perhaps that shouldn't have been a surprise given his obsession with being as healthy as possible.

Janus tried very hard not to check him out, but was unable to keep his eyes from drifting down, and then back up, and then back down again. He sucked in a breath as he felt his ears warm.

Logan straightened up, his expression turning quite pleased. Before Janus could question him further, he pulled a notebook and pen out of thin air - summoning them effortlessly - and began to scribble on one of the pages, about halfway through.

Janus watched him, thoroughly confused and still - somewhat reluctantly - checking Logan out. Then, when Logan closed the notebook and it disappeared again, the logical side smiled at him: genuine and warm, such an uncommon sight.

It made Janus's face warm and his heart tremble, which was far more telling than the reaction to shirtless Logan.

"Thank you, Janus," Logan said. "That was all I needed."

Then, he sank out, and Janus was left alone, confused, and still - unfortunately - quite flustered.

***

After that, he spent a significant amount of time in his room, wallowing in his hopeless, hopeless pining.

(Remus was only joking. The interaction with Logan was only part of some experiment. Surely those were the real explanations for the two frankly baffling experiences from today, right?)

When he finally decided to leave the room, it was only because he was hungry. Remus's onslaught of sexual flirting had distracted him from breakfast, so he was rather eager to get something to eat.

Luckily, when he arrived in the kitchen, Remus wasn't there.

But Patton was, and the delighted smile on his face when Janus entered the room was just as disastrous to his heartrate as Remus had been.

"Jan!" He beamed, dropping the spoon and bowl he'd been washing up and walking over, taking both of Janus's hands in his own. "I'm so glad you're here!"

It was then that Janus realised he'd forgotten his gloves.

The warmth of Patton's hands against his skin and scales was enough to make him feel equally warm and fuzzy inside. He was suddenly hit with the desire to make that warmth spread to every part of his body, and in that moment, he really, really wanted to kiss Patton.

"What- what do you need, Patton?" He asked slowly.

Patton squeezed his hands. "I just made cookies! And I need someone to test them for me. Would you mind?"

"Oh, uh... alright."

Patton beamed.

Then, he dropped Janus's hands, and the deceitful side would never admit to the disappointment that rose in his chest at the loss of warmth. He watched as Patton plucked a cookie from the plate - carefully selecting what he deemed the best one, before turning back around and bringing it back to Janus.

Janus reached out, ready to take the cookie from his hand, but Patton shook his head, holding up the cookie to Janus's lips.

Janus blinked, dropping his hand and then slowly opening his mouth obediently, taking a small bite of the cookie. It was good, as always - warm and chewy and his absolute favourite flavour.

Patton giggled. "You like them?" At Janus's silent nod, he continued. "Oh, wonderful! I'm so glad!"

Janus swallowed, and opened his mouth to respond, but the words died in his throat when Patton leant forward and brushed his thumb over Janus's lip. His brain short-circuited for a few seconds as his face went hot, but then he realised that Patton had probably just been brushing a crumb from his mouth, and that it wasn't something he should've been worried about.

Patton's smile turned slightly mischievous, and he giggled again.

"Everything alright, Janus?"

***

Janus had returned to his room shortly after that little encounter. He'd mumbled excuses that Patton had seemed to believe - though the disappointment on his face when Janus left had been unmistakable.

He fell back onto his bed, dropping his head onto his pillow and burying his face into his hands.

What was going on today? Remus and Logan and Patton were all acting strange, and Janus couldn't get them out of his head.

Or maybe Janus was the strange one.

He was the one with the huge, perception-altering crushes on all of his friends - Thomas included.

Janus huffed, dropping his arms to his sides and staring up at the ceiling. There were little plastic stars - made by Roman many years ago - stuck all over it, that glowed in the dark when it was night.

Janus hadn't been afraid of the dark since they were all small, but he still kept the stars there out of habit.

(And out of love for Roman, though that part he would never admit aloud.)

There was a loud knock on the door, and Janus jumped, sitting up suddenly and staring at it, wide-eyed. He froze for a moment, before he grabbed his gloves off his bedside table and quickly pulled them back on. He put his hat on, too.

He got up, and walked over to the door.

When he opened it, he immediately came face-to-face with Roman, whose whole face lit up when his eyes landed on Janus.

(And, oh, that really did something to Janus, didn't it? He felt all warm and fuzzy inside - the way Roman was looking at him making him feel like he was floating.)

He felt his face warm, and the greeting he'd meant to say died in his throat as the blush formed.

Roman laughed suddenly: loud and cheerful and delighted, and it made Janus jump. His heart skipped a beat in his chest and he felt simultaneously confused and happy, as Roman's laugh was contageous.

"Well, that was easy!" Roman beamed.

"I- uh- what?"

But before Janus could question Roman properly, Roman reached forward and grabbed Janus's face in both hands. He then pressed a kiss to the centre of Janus's forward.

Janus let out a strangled noise as Roman let go of him and took a step back.

"Thank you, Jan," he said earnestly.

Then, he sunk out, leaving Janus incredibly confused, and even more flustered, ready to melt into a puddle on the floor.

***

It took a few hours for Janus to gain the courage to leave his room again after that.

But, when he did, he found the living room of the mindscape suddenly quite cold. He stood in the centre of the room, rubbing his arms and shivering, as the yellow button-up shirt he had on was far too thin, and he regretted choosing that over his usual outfit that morning.

"Okay," he huffed. "Whose idea was this?"

"I know, right?" Suddenly came a voice from behind him. "It's freezing."

Janus glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes landing on Virgil, who was stood a few feet behind him.

"You cold?" Virgil continued.

"No," Janus lied flatly.

Virgil snorted. "Right."

Then, he did something that Janus couldn't have predicted. He took off his hoodie.

This was peculiar for two reasons - one, that the mindscape was cold, and two, that Virgil almost never took off his hoodie, and never without a good reason.

Janus blinked at him, so surprised that he stopped rubbing his goosebump-covered arms. Then, his eyes widened further as Virgil held the hoodie out to him.

"What are you doing?"

Virgil rolled his eyes, though fondly and with a half-smirk.

"Giving you my jacket," he answered.

"But- what? Why?"

"I heard snakes are cold-blooded."

Janus huffed, attempting to glare at Virgil but failing miserably. Virgil seemed amused at his attempts, which made it even harder to glare at him, because Janus wanted to kiss that smirk right off his face.

"I don't need your jacket," Janus lied.

(He would very much appreciate Virgil's jacket, for many reasons, but he obviously could never admit that aloud.)

Virgil snorted. But, instead of responding to that, he walked up to Janus and draped his hoodie over the other sides' shoulders. Janus froze, especially as Virgil's touch lingered longer than it could have, and Janus could suddenly feel himself warm.

His cheeks went hot, likely turning red.

Virgil caught Janus's eye, and the slight smirk returned for just a moment.

"Hope you warm up," he said, before turning and walking out of the room, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, leaving Janus warm, alone and very confused.

***

Janus's confusion had only grown when Thomas suddenly summoned him for no good reason.

Usually, he summoned his sides for videos, and the rest of the time they showed up on their own. He liked to spend time with them, sure, but usually either with all of them, or when the sides showed up first.

Janus appeared in the sitting room.

"Thomas," he said. "What do you need?"

Thomas was sat on the couch, leaning back against the cushions, and his face lit up when he saw Janus, which made Janus feel all kinds of things, and made him almost wish he was the side in charge of Thomas's feelings, so he could know exactly what he was feeling.

(The sides may have all been able to see through Thomas's eyes and hear through ears, but none of them had access to everything that went on inside his head. They each had their own different parts. Virgil knew his anxieties, Patton knew his feelings, Janus knew his lies and the secrets and desires he hid from even himself. None knew everything, even when they might want to.)

"Oh, Janus!" Thomas smiled. "You're here!" He patted the couch beside him, indicating that Janus should sit. "Come on, hang out with me."

Janus blinked, sitting down immediately but with a confused expression.

"Do you... need something?"

"Do I need to? Can't I just summon you to hang out?"

"I mean, no, but-" Janus cut himself off with a strangled noise when Thomas reached forward and plucked his hat right off his head.

Then, Thomas placed the hat on his own head with a grin.

"How do I look?"

Janus opened and closed his mouth a few times, stumbling over his words. It took him a moment to pull together a coherent thought that wasn't just the word 'cute' repeated twelve times.

"Uh, um... you look... good?"

Thomas laughed. "Oh, Jan, you flatter me," he joked. Then, he looked Janus over slowly - making him feel all kinds of things - before his gaze settled on Janus's hair. He reached across, running his fingers through it and sticking his tongue out in concentration. "Your hat must mess your hair up a lot, you wear it so much."

"It's- uh, it's messy, usually," Janus choked out. "That's why I wear the hat."

Thomas pulled his hand back, placing it in his lap, and Janus only just managed to keep himself from making a disappointed noise.

"Aww, I don't know, I like it," Thomas said, seemingly oblivious to Janus's plight. "It's a lot curlier than mine, kinda like Patton's but much darker: almost black." Thomas smiled. "I think it's cute."

Janus blinked at him, feeling his face turn hot and red for what felt like the millionth time that day. He buried his face in his hands and groaned.

“Why are you guys like this?” He mumbled into his palms.

“Huh?” Thomas half-laughed, sounding partly amused and partly confused.

“You’re just- aah!” Janus almost screamed with frustration. “Making me feel... so much!”

“So much what?”

Janus paused at that. He... recognised that tone. It was a tone of faux-innocence, one he’d heard - and, in the past, actively prompted - from Thomas multiple times.

He knew something.

Janus pulled his hands away from his face, shooting Thomas an accusatory look that made him hold up his hands in defence.

“You know something,” Janus accused, with a still-red face, but significantly more confidence than before. “What is it?”

“Uh...” Thomas trailed off, hesitating, but at Janus’s expression, he finally gave in and smiled sheepishly at him. “I may know of a... competition, of sorts.”

“Competition?”

“Between the other sides. And, uh... me, too, I guess. We wanted to see who could make you blush the most.” For a moment, Thomas paused. “‘Cos you’re cute.”

Janus’s brain broke.

He stared blankly at Thomas for a few seconds, before understanding finally hit him like a train, and the blush that had just faded returned again, full-force. He felt hot and flustered and still a little confused, but mostly just startled.

“Oh,” he squeaked.

Thomas let out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his head with his hand and glancing away.

“Sorry, if that’s kinda weird,” he apologised quickly. “We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, we just really li- you know what, it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry.”

Janus buried his face in his hands with another loud groan. He mumbled something that Thomas couldn’t quite make out. Thomas leant forward, trying to listen better.

“Sorry, what was that?” Thomas asked.

Janus repeated himself, slightly louder.

“It worked,” he grumbled.

Thomas laughed, short and slightly startled. “Yeah, we, uh... we figured. You’re kinda obvious when you’re flustered. And cute.”

Janus groaned into his palms again, even louder this time.

“I mean,” Thomas continued. “You know they can all see you right now, too, right?”

There was a beat.

“Oh, god.”

[fruitcoops]

Hi hello I would love to know more about this tidbit from your oher fic? “Three months after we moved in together, Remus slept on the couch for a week because he hated the way I left toothpaste on the sink.” “I wasn’t even angry about the toothpaste.” Remus got up to refill Leo’s water glass. “I was scared we were moving too fast and that everything would fall apart.” pretty please with puppy dog eyes?

Anything for you, Beyonce! Hope you enjoy your trip on the angst train >:)

Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for couples arguments, self-isolation, mild anxiety

Day 1

“Oh my god, Sirius.” Remus shoved his toothbrush back in the holder more aggressively than he probably needed to. His hands were shaking, though whether it was from rage or something else, he wasn’t sure.

“What?”

“Really? Again?”

“What?” Sirius asked again. He had the nerve to sound truly bewildered and the bed creaked as he stood up. “What did I do?”

“You left the toothpaste uncapped and it’s all over the sink,” Remus sighed, running his hand down his face. It was too late to fight about this.

Sirius gave him a look. “Re, there’s literally one smudge.” He swiped it away with his thumb. “There. Better?”

“No, it’s not better. I told you I hate it when you do that.”

“Are you okay? You seem…upset.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” he snapped. Sirius recoiled at his tone and he bit back a second retort. “Look, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

“What—sweetheart—”

“Don’t call me sweetheart, okay?” Remus grabbed a fresh set of pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt out of the dresser. He couldn’t handle being surrounded by Sirius’ smell right now. “Just…not tonight.”

 Day Two

They ate breakfast silently. Every ping of Sirius’ spoon against his cereal bowl was like nails on a chalkboard as he choked down a slice of toast and all but chugged his coffee. “So…” Sirius started, looking up at him from under his eyelashes. “Do you want to talk about what happened last night?”

“Not really,” Remus muttered. “I’m going to run to Target and get some groceries.”

“In your pajamas?”

Remus went upstairs without a word. He slept on the living room couch again that night and tried desperately not to miss Sirius’ solid warmth next to him. This is good for you both, he repeated again and again and again. Space is good. Space is healthy.

Day Three

Sirius didn’t bring it up again, but he stole quick, worried glances that Remus caught in his periphery whenever they were in the same room together. There was a gentle knock on the living room doorframe and he poked his head in, offering Remus a grilled cheese sandwich that basically broke his heart. “I’m really sorry about the toothpaste,” he said softly when Remus didn’t respond. “Um, I made dinner, but you seemed busy. So. Here.”

“Thanks,” Remus managed. As soon as he heard the bedroom door close upstairs, silent tears began streaking down his face. The sandwich tasted like sawdust. “You need to breathe,” he reminded himself. “If you move too fast it’s going to fall apart. If you can’t exist apart then you won’t be healthy together.”

And yet somehow he was unhappier than he had been in more than three months, even when they were still living in the same house.

 Day Four

Remus ran errands. Hung out with Lily in the park. Made lunch and left a brief note next to the crock pot for Sirius to find when he was done working out. Love you, it read. Simple. Normal. Healthy.

His back was beginning to cramp from the too-small couch. His feet were cold every night. Lily’s silent concern played over and over again in his head as he drifted into a fitful sleep.

 Day Five

It was getting easier to create distance with Sirius despite the fact that they shared most spaces. He offered quick smiles when they passed each other in the hallway, chaste kisses whenever he left the house, and even scooted over to make room for him on the couch when the Avatar reruns started on Nickelodeon.

“Remus, are you mad at me?” Sirius asked after a period of suffocating silence. Hearing him say his name was strange—his accent curled around it in an unfamiliar way, like he was making a conscious effort not to slip up. Remus squeezed his eyes shut. It was agonizing to be so close to him and yet so far away. They always cuddled on the couch.

“No,” Remus said in a small voice. “No, I’m not mad at you.”

“Is this…are you breaking up with me?” From the soft huff of air that came after it, Remus knew he had been sitting on this for a long time.

“What? No!” He turned, making eye contact for the first time in days. It was brutal and made him feel raw. “No, I love you.”

Sirius’ shoulders folded in slightly and he fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. “Are you coming back to bed soon?”

“I—I don’t know,” Remus forced himself to say. I love you! He wanted to scream. I love you so much it’s scaring me. I miss everything about you, even the toothpaste smudges on the sink and the way you look at me when you find more of my socks scattered around. I miss holding you and racing shopping carts in Target with you. I miss your laugh and your smile and just being near you. “Probably. I’m not sure. I’m sorry.”

“Take your time.” The words sounded like they pained him. “Take all the time you need.”

“This isn’t payback,” Remus said. “Sirius, this is not payback for the time we spent hiding, okay?”

Sirius gave him an astonished look. “How did you…?”

“Because I know you.” He was miserable. So fucking miserable. “I know you, Sirius, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

One question hung unspoken between them. Then why are you staying away?

 Day Six

Sirius was gone when he woke up, but a sticky note in his careful handwriting rested on the end table near Remus’ face. He frowned as he sat up—he been too drained to deal with tangled blankets when he went to sleep, but sometime in the night they had been smoothed all the way up to his shoulder and a second one had been added to cover his feet. Remus shoved down the urge to burst into tears and grabbed the note to distract himself.

Remus, it began. Ouch.

Pots and I are taking Harry to the park today, I’ll be back around six. Lily said she wanted to talk with you at some point so keep an eye out for her calls. Thanks for picking up extra pasta at the store.

Love you,

Sirius

He smoothed his thumb over the note, feeling each bump and curl of Sirius’ pencil because his vision was too blurry to make out the words a second, third, fourth time. “This is bullshit,” he said to himself. “This is bullshit!”

When the slight echo of his shout faded out, he set it back on the table and curled up, drawing both blankets tight around himself. “Why am I doing this?”

1.      You had sex before you went on a real date

2.      You went through a traumatic event and are still working through it

3.      You’re so fucking scared of how much you love him

4.      You want to spend forever with him because he’s your best friend, too

5.      Normal couples date for at least a year before moving in together

6.      Normal couples—

“Fuck it.” He shook his head to clear the anxiety list from his brain. He had been reciting it to himself for days as some sort of convoluted justification. “Fuck it. I love him and this is bad for both of us. So what if we’re not a normal couple? What the hell is a normal couple? We’re never going to be normal and I love him, I love him, I…”

The low sobs that resonated in his chest burned in the best way. His breathing was even, but he just couldn’t repress this anymore. “I’m a coward,” he sniffled, sliding further under the heavy blankets. His pajamas only smelled like laundry detergent and regret. “And an idiot.”

The phone rang and he picked it up. “Hey, Lils.”

“Well, you sound like a wreck.”

“I know.”

“What’s going on, Re?”

“I’m an idiot.”

“And?”

“And I’m in love with him.”

“And?”

“I’m done self-flagellating to try and fit the societal standards of a healthy relationship based on heterosexuality.”

“There’s my Remus,” she said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Are you okay? I was worried about you.”

“Better now. I’ll fix this when Sirius gets home.”

“Good. You’re both suffering from this.”

 Day Seven

When Remus woke up, it was pitch-black outside. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered to the ceiling, scrubbing at his itchy eyes. The wall clock read 12:06. After another thirty minutes of crying, he had cleaned the whole house top to bottom, went for a run, and then apparently passed out on the couch for five hours.

Fix this. In any other circumstance, Remus would have spent at least an hour fretting over every tiny detail. But this was Sirius. This was about owning the fact that he was happiest with Sirius and that he had unintentionally hurt him by trying to create distance that they didn’t actually need.

With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself up the stairs and knocked softly on the bedroom door. There was a moment of silence, then a sleepy voice. “Re?”

“Hey, baby. Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Sirius hadn’t bothered turning on the light, so the room was dark as he slipped in and closed the door behind him. Sudden nervousness washed through him. “I’m sorry.”

There was a rustle as Sirius sat up. “Why did you do that?”

“I thought—” His mouth was so dry. “It’s so stupid.”

“Please tell me.”

“I thought we needed space. I didn’t want space, you didn’t want space, but I was afraid we were moving too fast and that we’d suddenly wake up one morning and hate each other. That everything would crumble because we rushed into everything.”

“Hmmm.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“After day three, yeah. And then I was just worried. You seemed really unhappy and I didn’t know why.” Sirius paused. “Um, I called your mom.”

“What? When?”

“Friday morning. That was what, day…four? I heard you crying downstairs and I was afraid someone had died or something.” His voice wobbled. “She was worried, too, but she said you might just need to work through it.”

“I’m so sorry, Sirius.”

“I know.”

“Can I…?”

“C’mere.” Sirius reached over and lifted the edge of the covers up on Remus’ side—as far as he could tell, they had been left tucked in the whole time. “I love you,” he murmured as Remus curled up.

“I love you so much.” He carefully reached out and brushed their hands together, and Sirius wrapped an arm around him to pull him close. “So much, you have no idea. That was the worst week.”

Sirius’ heartbeat was steady as Remus kissed the top of his head and melted into his warmth. “I capped the toothpaste in the bathroom.”

When Remus laughed, it was a little teary. “I say this with all the love in the world, Sirius, but I couldn’t care less about the goddamn toothpaste. I care about you.”

His hold tightened and Remus squeezed his eyes shut. I know, it said. I’ve got you. I love you. You can stay.

[0606-hyuck]

BOYFRIEND!KUN

includes:

♡ before the relationship

♡ becoming comfortable/humour

♡ relationships with other members

♡ jealousy/pda/flirting

♡ disagreements

♡ dates/texting/social media

♡ languages/"i love you"

masterlist

enjoy!

wc: 1.4k

♡ before the relationship ♡

you knew each other through your mutual friend, ten

as you spent time together and with ten's other friends, you started developing a crush on kun

he was always just so sickeningly sweet to you and you'd never been treated so well by a man that wasn't even your boyfriend

kun was always really fond of you too and loved your company

he also had a crush on you but you had no idea

he respected your boundaries and would never knowingly flirt with you or do anything to make you uncomfortable

and because of this you assumed you were just a good friend to kun

eventually ten got sick of you fawning over his friend and he told you to just confess to kun

it took you even longer after that to actually work up the courage and tell him you liked him

when you did, he was so surprised and he had no idea you liked him in that way

you'd both been so platonic with each other that you'd assumed you would never get together

"why didn't you say something earlier?"

"why didn't YOU say something, kun?"

♡ becoming comfortable/humour ♡

starting a relationship with him felt really natural

nothing really changed, he'd always treated you so well

you just openly flirted with each other now

kun would always get flustered whenever you flirted with/complimented him, especially if you did it in front of his members

because they'd all tease him about the blush spreading across his face

you also love to cuddle up together

kun loves being the big spoon and feeling like he has you protected in his arms

he could just sit for hours cuddling with you, watching movies, talking etc

you knew he was getting comfortable in the relationship when one day he came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his hair

"why did you do that? you have short hair???"

"you do it all the time and it looks fun so i wanted to try it"

is highkey really witty

will banter with you if only to see you smile

and because it amuses him

if you're getting a lil too cocky he'll come back with a clever but good-natured reply/joke and you're like "damn where did that come from"

DADDY KUN

he's just all round very domestic with you

even before you two started dating

we all know kun is such a parent figure to his members and he's really no different with you

treats you like the queen you are and always puts your feelings first

to the point where you sit there and think "what did i do to deserve a qian kun in my life"

lowkey existential crises because you're not sure what you did in a past life to get so lucky with kun

but it's fine tho

♡ relationships with other members♡

the other members love to call you their second parent

or even just refer to you and their mum and kun as their dad

they love to tease kun when you're around, especially if it's about you

cue ten and lucas screaming in second-hand embarrassment when kun does something cute with you

also relentless teasing from yangyang and hendery

yangyang: *in kun's voice* jagiya~ don't forget to eat today

honestly they all put bets on when you two would start dating because they knew it would happen eventually

and xiaojun would be like "no, placing bets on their relationship is wrong" but he'd also win the bet lol

♡ jealousy/pda/flirting ♡

i don't think kun would get visibly jealous that much?

like if one of the members was playfully trying to make him jealous he'd probably tell them to back off just because he knows that's the reaction they want

if some stranger was flirting with you he wouldn't necessarily feel jealous, but he would kindly but firmly tell the person you are taken

he'd be more worried about the person making you feel uncomfortable rather than jealous tbh

kun understands you have your own life and doesn't get jealous when you hang out with your friends or family

he's not a massive fan of pda, but sometimes for fun he'll kiss you in the dorms because he knows the other members find it cringey

he gives off "middle-aged-dad-deliberately-embarrassing-his-teenaged-children" vibes

you aren't a couple that flirts much

just because your relationship is so domestic and wholesome

although you do find it fun to flirt with kun in front of wayv and watch him turn beet red

kun prefers to tell you straight up how amazing you are rather than flirt with you

but occasionally he'll come up with a line that's so clever and smooth

it’s just very attractive the one time a year he decides to actually flirt with you lol

♡ disagreements? ♡

you almost never get into fights with him

but when you have a disagreement, it's usually about how you want to be independent and not rely on him all the time

can be a bit overbearing and he can get his feelings hurt when you remind him he's your boyfriend and not your caregiver

you know he loves spending money and buying things for you, but sometimes you want to be able to buy things for yourself and not need his help all the time

a big clash for you is money

but you know he's only offering to help because he loves you, he's not trying to embarrass you or anything like that

it just genuinely doesn't cross his mind that you'd want to spend your own money or do stuff yourself

and once he knows it's an issue he backs off and even encourages you to be more independent

♡ dates/texting/social media ♡

kun LOVES cooking for you and making sure you're eating healthy

when he's away he loves to call you just to hear your voice

you have date nights where you kick the other members out and just cook a meal together

but he also loves taking you out to fancy restaurants and spending money on you because it's what you deserve bby

can listen to you talk about your day for hours

you always feel like you're talking too much but he reassures you you're not

you try to get him to talk about himself but he just encourages you to talk more

he always sends cute texts asking if you've ate/slept enough/doing okay etc

just cute lil check ups each day to remind you he cares

literally 95% of his social media is you/selfies with you

he has no problems sharing your awesomeness with the world

also always hyping you up on social media

if you post something he'll repost it on his story and say something like "my partner is hot and they know it"

posts stupid videos of you messing around

like a video of you poorly playing a recorder with the caption "look at y/n go"

and all his members comment on the post to hype you up too

♡ languages/"i love you" ♡

he prefers to talk to you in chinese (mandarin) or korean

but if your native/preferred language is something else he'd definitely try learn it for you

learns it so he can talk to your parents/family comfortably

and also so there's no miscommunication between you

actually learns super fast and you're really shook *insert pikachu meme*

you always tell kun you love him when me made stuff or did something nice for you

you meant it, of course, but you said it so often that it kinda became an inside joke between you

like if you held the door open for him he'd say in a high pitched voice "omg i love you so much y/n" and mimic what you said to him lol

but when you said "i love you" seriously he would instantly know it wasn't a joke and you were fr

he'd smile and pull your face into his chest for a massive hug

kun would be smiling into your hair and rubbing your back and he'd just say "i know"

before he says he loves you back and pulls you in for a kiss

omg ahskkwjwka this is so cute my heart is bursting

in conclusion stan kun and wayv sluts 😜

other members: ten | winwin | lucas | xiaojun | hendery | yangyang

© 0606-hyuck 2021. All Rights Reserved.

[abbysfrenchbraid]

Kissed by a Wolf - Chapter 4

Masterlist 🌿 (check for previous chapters) / Playlist

In this chapter, the reader fully joins Eivor’s clan and takes part in the celebrations before the raid. Talking with Eda does not go as planned.

Content Warnings for food & alcohol, mentions of physical abuse, lesbophobia, light smut and vomit.

Inspo Picture by @anaakeart​

The Sting of Rejection

You had already slept for a few hours when Eivor returned from her council meeting late at night. Even though she tried to be quiet and not to wake you, you were awake as soon as you heard her steps on the path outside.

Birna had curled up in your arms and raised her head when the warrior entered, not moving from her warm and comfortable spot. You remained still, your eyes closed as you listened to the woman’s movements. Her fur coat fell to the ground almost inaudibly, the wood of her trunk creaked quietly as she sat down to take off her boots, her leather pants rustled when she pulled them off and threw them in a corner.

Then you finally felt her motions, too as she lifted a corner of the quilt covering you and slipped in the bed, immediately scooting close to you. She gave Birna a few gentle strokes until the cat started to purr softly and Eivor lowered her head next to yours with a satisfied sigh. She smelled like beer and smoked meat, accompanied by that faint, wonderful scent of tree bark.

You must have stirred because Eivor lifted her head again, whispering: “Little bird… there are good news for you.”

Careful not to disturb Birna, you turned slightly and looked at her with raised eyebrows. She smiled.

“You are now one of us. Mine.” She watched your face attentively for a reaction. You closed your eyes and swallowed. So it was decided.

“Are you happy?” Eivor asked, drawing her fingertips over your healthy cheek.

“Yes, I am,” you answered, turning back around and scooting back against her.

“Mmhh. We’ll talk in the morn.” She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close, then you both drifted off to sleep.

-

You were woken by Birna's demanding meows at the door. She had not left the hut since yesterday and was probably hungry and in need of a quiet corner. Eivor grunted, then she untangled herself from your limbs and cursed in her mother tongue when she stumbled over her clothes on her way to let the cat out.

“You won’t like it outside, little lady. The snow has stayed,” she grumbled as she opened the door. Indeed, Birna was not amused at the prospect of stepping into the cold, wet powder that painted the village in beautiful white and whirled into the room as soon as the door stood ajar. You pulled the blanket over your head to escape the stinging cold air, listening to Eivor and Birna bicker about the cat’s options for the day.

It really sounded like they were having a conversation, one that ended with Birna leaving with a last, angry cry and Eivor shutting the door with a thankful sigh. She let herself fall back on the bed and crawled under the covers. You stuck your head out.

“So, I’m one of you now?”

Eivor needed a moment to process your question, then she sat up and nodded.

“The council was thankful for your offer to help us prepare the raid and accepted your proposal. You’re going to come with me later so you can have another look at the map and tell us everything you know. In return, you will receive a wooden bangle declaring you part of this clan and my personal servant as soon as we return.”

You sat up as well and leaned against the headboard, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket as you tried to find the right words.

“I am very grateful for your trust. I know it normally does not come easy,” you said. “May I ask something else of you?”

The blonde raised her eyebrows with a questioning look.

“My- the people who came with me. How are they?”

“Oh, they are all well.” Eivor got up and started putting on her clothes. “Three of them have decided to stay with us freely and work in the stables and the longhouse. Two have yet to decide and your lady friend is refusing to speak to us. I hear she is eating, at least.”

A wave of relief washed over you. You were not the only one to change sides. You were fairly sure you knew who had taken up work in the village; the two remaining prisoners were probably the squires to Lord William. They had endured harsh treatment at his hands, but he had promised them a future as knights and held them in higher regard than his own daughters. It made sense that Eda was not willing to speak or change her mind. She blamed Eivor for the death of her entire family.

“Eivor?”

“Yes, little bird?”

“Do you think I could have a word with Eda? Maybe I can reason with her,” you suggested, holding your breath as you waited for her reaction. She considered it for a moment, then she shrugged and put on her coat.

“I guess it would do no harm. You can speak with her before we meet the others in the map room, maybe she will tell you something helpful.” She turned around. “Do you want to join me in the longhouse for breakfast?”

The question surprised you, but she was right. You were healing fast, and there was no reason for you to stay in bed any longer. You agreed and swung your legs out of bed, slipped into your wooden clogs and put on your new coat over the linen tunic. Hopefully, you would be able to acquire some more fitting and functional clothes soon, but now was not the time to worry about looks. Your face was still swollen and blue anyway, your bruises now starting to fade to green at the edges.

You quickly rubbed the salve Valka had given you on your tender cheek, then Eivor held the door open for you and you stepped outside into the snow. The air was hard and cold, but clear and when it filled your lungs, you could feel it chase out the last remains of smoke and illness. Walking down to the longhouse, two dogs ran toward you and circled you with excited barks and wagging tails, apparently delighted to see Eivor. She laughed and chased them around for a bit, then she told them she had other things to do and they let her be and ran off towards the stables.

When you entered the longhouse, Eivor was immediately greeted by cheers and excited comments regarding the coming raid. She smiled and acknowledged everyone’s words before leading you to a side part of the house. There was a fireplace in the center of the area, a hole in the roof directing the smoke outside. A kettle and a metal grid were hung over the fire and an old woman was stirring porridge with a gigantic wooden spoon. You both stepped closer.

“Sfáva, dette er Y/N,” Eivor introduced you, gently placing a hand between your shoulder blades. “She is from Williamsburg and has decided to join us. She is a cook, too."

The old woman slowly came closer, squinting her eyes at you until her face was almost directly beneath yours. Then she suddenly gave you a warm, almost toothless smile, deepening the crows’ feet around her eyes and stretching the leathery, weatherbeaten skin on her cheeks.

“Velkommen, Y/N,” she croaked and took your hand, patting it lightly. She chattered something in Eivor’s direction and the warrior translated: “She’s glad to have you here and hopes you can show her some English cooking. She does not speak your language, but she understands a few words and can grasp your meaning if you speak slowly. Our tongues are not too different.”

You smiled back at Sfáva, gently squeezing her hand.

“I’m honored to work by your side, Sfavá.”

The old cook let out a delighted laugh at your proper pronunciation of her name and gestured for you to take a wooden bowl. You and Eivor both took bowls and spoons from a table and Sfavá filled them with porridge. Eivor loaded up her meal with several sausages from the grill, to which you passed.

“I’m afraid we can’t eat together. My place is up there” - she mentioned to the table at the back of the room, standing orthogonal to the rest of the tables - “with my brother. I see your old companions have found themselves over there, maybe you would like to join them?” She motioned over to where the three men that had been released as well sat and ate their breakfast.

You nodded and wished the warrior a good morning, then you walked over and sat down with the others. Aelfric and Hal had been the stable masters back at Williamsburg and were excited about the variety of horses and possibilities here. Eivor had apparently put a lot of money and work into the stables, making them a much more enjoyable place than the dark, moldy ramshackle hut William’s old mares had spent their days in. Lewin was also content with his situation; he had joined the butcher and his son in preparing meat for winter.

They were all happy to see you, thanking you for your quick thinking and cautious behavior during and after the attack. Lewin was even convinced they owed you their lives. While they went on discussing the possibilities of hunting at this time of the year, you stared into your porridge and tried to find the words and the courage for a conversation with Eda.

What could you say that would explain to her your disloyalty to her name, your treachery to England, your betrayal against her after everything you had gone through together? How could you ever change her mind or her situation, what were your possibilities in this? Would she stay locked into a cell for the rest of her life? What would the Vikings do with her if she was nothing but a nuisance?

The others took their leave and you were still none the wiser. Absorbed in your thoughts, you let your gaze wander through the long hall. Your eyes finally got caught on the she-wolf at the elevated warriors’ table. She was deep in conversation with Sigmund and tapping her finger on the table as she made her point to him. He seemed to agree with everything she was saying, consistently nodding his head as he devoured his sausages.

Suddenly, Eivor caught your gaze and while she kept talking, her finger stayed pressed to the wooden tabletop. You could have sworn there was a hint of a smile on her face as she turned back to her brother to ask him something. Shaking your head, you got up and brought your empty bowl back to Sfáva’s side table.

Even though her eyesight seemed to be terrible, she immediately recognized you and repeated your name with a joyful fondness in her voice that made your heart swell in your chest. What a wonderful woman.

As you wandered around the hall to collect the dirty bowls people had left on the tables, you felt someone’s eyes on you. Smiling to yourself, you relished at the feeling a little bit longer before turning around to return Eivor’s look. To your surprise, she had stood up and turned her back to you, speaking with someone behind the table.

Slightly bewildered, you finished your round and carried the stash of bowls and spoons back to the cooking area. Just as you turned to ask Sfáva where you should wash the dishes, you saw something blue in the corner of your eye. You looked up and had to force yourself to keep your composure as you saw Randvi leaning against a wooden pillar across the hall and watching you from afar, her arms crossed and her face smooth and expressionless.

She did not move or look away when you saw her, standing perfectly still and continuing to look at you as you finally lowered your gaze and asked Sfáva about your tasks for the day. The old Viking explained her wishes to you with a mix of slow Norwegian and sign language, making it clear you should wash the bowls outside in a big trough and bring her another few sacks of flour. You felt uneasy as you left the longhouse to do your washing up, still followed by Randvi’s piercing gaze.

Eivor caught you outside, glad you had already settled in with your new work and thrilled for the raid. She was practically buzzing with excitement and her restlessness made you laugh, taking your mind off the strange moment with Randvi.

“What are you laughing at, eh? You are looking at a proud drengr, not a jester!” she exclaimed, furrowing her brows in feigned outrage and making you laugh even harder.

“You remind me of Eda and Delia on the eve before Christmas. They were so excited for the next morning, they could barely sleep.” Your gaze lost itself in the dirty water in the trough before you. You had some good memories with the two girls. They had been so innocent and happy. A hand on the small of your back drew you back to the present. Eivor had stepped closer.

“I will sleep like a bear in winter so long as you lie by my side,” she said quietly.

Her words and touch sent chills up your spine. Before you could reply, Eivor stepped back.

“But first, we will plan our glorious raid. And then we will celebrate. Oh Y/N, you will love it. Mead and food and great songs - we will be in good spirits tonight. And tomorrow will be even better!” Her eyes lit up at the thought of the joy and glory to come. “I need to look at a few things in the stables. Take this time to speak with your friend. I will come and get you when it is time to meet over the map.”

You watched her as she walked away, a spring in her step as she headed for the wooden building at the far end of the village. The dishes were clean, so you took them back inside and left them on the table for Sfáva. She was deep in conversation with two other Norse women when you filled another bowl with porridge and two sausages and quietly made your way to the cell in the back of the longhouse.

Eda sat on the floor where you had left her last. Her dress was dusty and stained, her hair was matted and her face looked grey and old. Dag, who was keeping watch again, let you in with a grumble and sat back down on his chair. Eda refused to look at you as you knelt down before her and offered her the food.

“Eda, please. You must eat. You look like death itself.”

“I don’t fear death,” she mumbled, still staring at her hands, ���I fear traitors and backstabbing snakes.”

Her words knocked the air out of your lungs. You had not expected her to be this hostile. What now?

“I do not claim to know the pain you feel and the losses you are bearing. I am simply trying to live with dignity instead of wasting away,” you explained, tears welling up in your eyes. “Do you not see my face? Were you not there when I learned I was worth nothing at Williamsburg, nothing but dirt on your father’s shoe? Eivor has offered me a place in this world. She-”

“You and your precious Eivor!” Eda snapped, her gaze now burning right through your head and her face screwed up into a hateful grimace. “You fell to your knees the second you saw her, begging for her to take you. I will not be lulled into submission by a filthy little sapphic whore!”

This blow hurt worse than William’s fist. There was nothing left to say. You put the bowl down next to her, then you stood up and left the cell. Dag gave you a strange look when he locked the door again.

Just as you rounded the corner, you bumped into Eivor. She knew something was wrong right away, pulling you into her warm embrace and letting you cry into her chest for a long moment until she pulled back and lowered her head to look at you.

“What is it, my little bird? Will your friend neither soften nor think clearly?”

You just nodded and pressed your lips together, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Eivor turned to look over her shoulder for a moment, then she pulled you into an alcove.

“You stay here and collect yourself. I will tell them you got held up and will be there soon.” She pulled you in for a last, quick hug, then she vanished from sight.

You took a few deep breaths and slapped your chest and torso, trying to fully return to the present, to your body, and to your rational thoughts. If Eda wanted nothing more to do with you, so be it. You had other things to worry about now.

When you entered the map room there were five men waiting for you alongside Eivor and Randvi. One of them was Sigurd, Eivor’s brother and the official chief of her clan, even though you felt like a lot of people cared for Eivor more strongly. You had just found out today that he was also Randvi’s husband. The other four you had seen before but you did not know their names.

Eivor looked up from the map first, smiling widely and rounding the table to introduce you.

“Everyone, this is Y/N. She was the cook at Williamsburg and has visited Fort Winton several times. She will tell us all she knows about the area and the castle.”

“What happened to your face, Y/N?” One of the warriors gave word to what everyone was thinking. You straightened up, trying to brace yourself against Randvi’s icy expression.

“Thank you for this opportunity to make myself useful here. My cheek made acquaintance with Lord William’s fist the day of your attack, but I am healing now and he is not, that is all that matters. And I have you to thank for it.”

Your answer seemed to satisfy everyone and you got to work. You spent the next hours telling them about every path and entrance to the castle you knew of, every person working there when you last visited, and everything about the Stewart that had taken over the shire. You even drew a plan of the order of the buildings and the rooms you knew of.

The Viking warriors warmed up to you quickly when they realized how much valuable knowledge you were giving them and even Randvi seemed to forget her hostility toward you after a while. The group even allowed you to stay for their debates on the right strategy, taking all your comments into consideration and thanking you for your help. Eivor reminded you at some point that you were still injured and told you to go back to the hut, put on the salve, and lay down. She would pick you up later for the feast.

Birna was already waiting for you at the door, mortally offended at having spent the day outside in the snow. She weaseled through the first crack in the door and was even more distraught when the fireplace was dead and the bed cold. You apologized sincerely and lit a fire to make Valka’s wonderful brew while you gently applied her salve to your healing cheek.

While your tea was steeping, you curled up with Birna and poured your heart out to her about Eda. She was a wonderful listener, snuggling up to you when you started crying and supporting your distraught words with agreeing meows. It was heartbreaking - the one friend you still had left did not want to be your friend anymore. You were all alone here. You had to admit that the Norse people were extremely welcoming to you and that Eivor would probably be very offended to hear you call yourself alone after two nights in her arms, but still. You were lonely. After you had drunk a cup of your herb infusion, you laid down, pulled Birna into your arms and cried yourself to sleep while the white cat silently watched over you.

-

A light grasp on your shoulder woke you and you opened your eyes to find Eivor crouching down before you, smiling softly at you. It was already dark outside and you had trouble finding your grasp on reality for a moment. Was it the next day? No. The feast.

Your mouth was dry and your eyelids felt heavy from crying. Eivor softly brushed the hair out of your face with her fingers.

“Good evening, little bird. Can I interest you in some excellent boar meat and warm mead?”

Birna answered in your stead, crying out as she stretched her little body on top of you. Eivor’s expression became even softer.

“For you, little lady, I have something special.” She took a small balled up bundle from her pocket and opened the stained cloth to reveal some fresh innards, probably taken from the boar. She placed the cloth on the ground in front of the fireplace and Birna jumped down from the bed to have her own royal feast.

You got up and followed the cat's example in stretching your limbs, feeling Eivor’s eyes on you as you put on your shoes and cloak and tried to comb your hair with your fingers. The blonde was next to you at once, holding your hands still.

“Wait. Let me.”

She opened her wooden chest and produced a beautiful wide-tooth comb. It was made from some kind of bone or fang. The warrior stood behind you and gently pulled all your hair back towards her. Then she began combing it out, starting at the bottom of each strand and carefully moving upwards, taking out any knots or dirt. Her fingers touched your scalp every time she took a new strand of hair, sending lightning down your spine and making the hair on your neck stand up.

“That’s better. I can braid it for you, too, if you’d like that,” Eivor said behind you. You brushed a hand over your long hair and felt its smoothness. You had never been allowed to wear your hair down at Williamsburg, always having to put it up in a knot and wear a bonnet or at least a cap. Today you had seen so many Viking women proudly wearing their hair down, some with intricate little braids and beads in theirs.

“I’d like that, yes,” you whispered, scared your voice would betray you. Every day, every hour here felt like a step closer to freedom and happiness.

“Sit down on the bed.” The blonde gently guided you to sit at the foot of the mattress so she could stand next to you. Then she began taking hair from your healthy side and braiding it along the hairline around your ear and down the back of your neck. She stepped around you to look at her work from the front.

“I think that is all you need. You’re beautiful.”

Your heart jumped into your throat, almost making its way onto your tongue. Your fingers followed the path of the small braid, admiring the perfect work of the warrior’s calloused hands. How peculiar, that these rough hands that wielded swords and axes bigger than your head could also be so gentle and precise.

A knock on the door tore you out of your reverie. It was Valka who wanted to take a look at your face and pick you both up for the feast. She was satisfied with your healing process and delighted to see Birna, having a little chat with the cat on the bed. You had to keep yourself from laughing when the thought of Birna being the true queen of this clan entered your head. She probably felt that the same way. The white cat was adored by everyone, and her demands were followed without question.

As the three of you made your way down to the longhouse, you could already hear loud singing and laughter. People were stumbling outside to relieve themselves in the bushes and others were just arriving, all being greeted with loud cheers and big jugs of mead. The same happened to you when you entered the great hall. A few warriors rushed to your side, greeting Eivor and paying you compliments and thanks for your help that day. Enthusiasm saturated the air like a humid day, filling everyone with joy and confidence for tomorrow.

Valka was quick to take the jug of ale from your hands and gave it to someone else who swore his love to her in return. She just smiled and pulled you towards the kitchen area. You had already lost Eivor in the mass of warriors jeering and singing praise to Odin. At the hearth fire, you met Sfáva sitting on a bench and enjoying a massive pitcher of mead. She cried out in joy when she saw you and hugged Valka tightly in greeting before squeezing your hands and grinning her almost toothless smile at you.

Valka asked you to stay with the older woman for a while and help her with the food; then you saw her talk to a red-haired woman and vanish in a dark corner with her. Maybe that was the woman she had spoken about with Eivor before? You wished her the best of luck.

There was not too much to do. The boar was on a spit over the great fire in the main hall and the men were responsible for cutting down the meat for everyone. You were grilling sausages and vegetables on the side and helping the boys open new barrels of ale that were consistently emptied within the hour.

Eivor came by soon, asking for more variety on her plate. It was obvious that she had already had enough mead to kill a boar, slightly swaying when she walked and getting extremely close when she tried to talk to you over the noise in the hall. Her face was red and radiating heat, her eyes had a drunk glisten to them and her laugh was rougher and dirtier than during the day. You were glad she was enjoying herself, although you could not help but wonder if this was the best idea considering her plans for tomorrow.

You spent some time outside cleaning plates at the trough and getting fresh air when you suddenly heard a noise around the corner. You debated for a moment whether you should risk a look but your curiosity got the best of you. As you stuck your head around the edge of the house, you weren’t immediately sure what you saw before you.

Two figures were leaning against the wall in close embrace, chuckling and mumbling sweet nothings to each other. As a cloud finally freed the moon and its light shone down on your village, you made out Valka’s golden headdress and the silhouette of the red-haired woman she had talked to earlier. Apparently, she had gotten lucky. You quietly moved back to your plates and smiled to yourself. Valka was a wonderful person, giving and loving and always putting others’ needs above hers. Eivor had spoken very highly of her trusted friend. She deserved to be happy.

When you came back inside and put the plates back on the sideboard in the cooking area, you noticed Eivor sitting at the front table surrounded by her men. And oh - there was Randvi sitting next to her. The two of them were leaning toward each other, their heads almost touching as they laughed about something Sigurd had said. It seemed that they had talked about their difficulties and made up.

You let yourself fall on the bench next to Sfáva and she patted your thigh, holding out her pitcher to signal it was empty. With a sigh, you got up to get her more mead and made yourself a plate of vegetables from the grid, seeing as you had not eaten since breakfast. Sfáva noticed you had not taken any meat and insisted you go get some boar meat. Upon the realization that she would not let you sit down again until you had tried the boar, you slowly went over to the big fire, hoping no one would notice you. The warrior there cut you a generous piece and you were almost back in your dark corner when someone called your name. God, no.

Aelfric, Hal, and Lewin were sitting at a table with some other stable boys and young maids. You gave Sváfa an apologetic wave which she answered with a loud, heartfelt laugh, then you made your way to your old companions. The boar was better than you had expected and you really were terribly hungry, wolfing down your food at an indecent speed and even going back for another portion. The others were talking about the two squires still sat in the cell; they were sure they would come around by the next morning. Who would really prefer the cold ground over these celebrations and the wonderful food that was shared fairly between everyone?

Looking over to the table at the back of the hall you could see Eivor and her friends conversing loudly, laughing and slapping each other's backs. At one point Dag danced on the table, but he soon lost his footing and went down in a wave of plates, jugs, rattling metal, and the yells of his fellow warriors. You stared at Eivor for a while, hoping she would return your gaze, but she was completely immersed in her conversation and never even looked up from her table. You finished your meal quietly, listening to the others talking about a new dice game they had learned and about a filly at the stable that was born in late autumn, a strange and dangerous time for newborns in the animal world. Together, they were sure they would get it through the winter safe.

Later you returned to Sfáva and leaned against the wall opposite her, warming yourself up by the fire and keeping an eye on Eivor, who was apparently in another drinking contest with one of her men. Randvi had her hands on Eivor’s shoulders and was cheering her on. A small figure stepped next to you, crossing her arms and following your gaze. Valka had returned.

You made no attempt to hide your feelings, you knew she had already seen through you. The healer put an arm around your waist and shook you slightly, looking up at you with a sympathetic expression.

“I know you saw us, Y/N.” The words took a moment for you to grasp their meaning, then you turned to Valka in surprise.

“Oh God, I swear I will keep your secret. I am a master at keeping my mouth shut.”

The smaller woman had to smile at your nervous reaction.

“I trust you. I am glad it was you that caught us and not someone else.”

“May I ask…” you hesitated, “what is going on between you?”

Valka turned her head to look at the singing warriors in the hall. There was a pain in her eyes that felt just too familiar.

“She is married. It was not her choice, but her father���s way of forging an alliance. Her husband is one of the hunters and away most of the time. When he beat her badly the first time, she came to me.”

The silence between you was heavy with meaning. When she began to speak again, her words grabbed your feet and pulled on them, getting heavier and heavier until you began to wonder why the earth had not opened underneath you and swallowed you whole.

“I know you wonder what happened between Eivor and Randvi. It is neither my place nor my ability to tell you everything, but I will say this, for fairness’s sake and because I think you already know in your heart. There was once love between them. Whether it still lives on, I cannot tell. But Eivor has told me that she is ready to leave this bond behind her because she feels something new, something far deeper and more intensive is coming. That is why she has pursued you. She felt something deeper the moment she met you.”

Valka turned to you and you fought to at least turn your feet so you could face her. Everything was spinning around you. The dark-haired woman gently placed her hands on either side of your neck and looked deep into your eyes.

“Follow your heart, Y/N. The gods will lead you. They have decided your destiny long before you were born.”

After recommending you should get some sleep, Valka left you frozen in place and dizzy. The noise that filled the room was now nothing but a single loud booming voice threatening to split your head. You needed to get some air. Maybe your bed was really the best idea.

You looked around for Eivor, but she had vanished from sight. It did not matter, you would find your way into her arms later one way or another. You said your goodbyes to Sfáva and the other servants, then you finally exited the longhouse and inhaled the cool night air.

Rounding the corner toward your hut, you were suddenly startled by a noise that sounded like an animal crying out. Maybe a cat? You tiptoed around the dark cottage to your right and suddenly stopped dead in your tracks.

Your heart dropped to your feet and all the blood left your face.

Eivor had pressed her brother's wife to the wooden wall and was kissing her passionately while her hands explored Randvi’s body under her tunic. They were so immersed that they had not heard you coming. You could not move, your feet suddenly weighing you down like boulders again.

The blonde’s knee was between the other woman’s legs and Randvi spread them for her lover, moaning into her mouth. As Eivor started attacking her neck with kisses, the auburn-haired woman opened her eyes and looked directly at you. The surprise in her gaze was almost unnoticeable, fading quickly to be replaced by malicious pleasure as she continued to stare at you while whining Eivor’s name and burying her fingers in the warrior’s hair.

Finally, your muscles started to work again. You turned on the spot and quietly made your way to Eivor’s hut. You felt sick. Closing the door behind you, you kicked your shoes under the bed and threw your coat into the corner. The cat on Eivor's pillow just gave you a questioning look.

“Oh Birna, if only you knew.” You threw yourself on the bed next to her, then you started bawling for the second time today. You cried until there was not a single tear left and you felt completely empty inside. Then you scooted close to the edge of the bed, turning your back to Eivor’s side, and tried to fall asleep.

Even though you fell into a state of absence, sleep would not come. Dread filled you when you heard teps at the door. But before Eivor could enter, you heard her cough and retch, probably throwing up into the thorny bushes a few steps from the door. A slight feeling of righteousness overcame you but it quickly disappeared again, leaving only misery and desperation.

When the warrior finally entered, you could hear her stumble through the room and curse under her breath as she hit her foot on the bed frame. She seemed to only take off her coat and let it fall to the floor before lying down next to you and falling asleep in an instant. A part of you had still hoped for her arms around you, despite everything. Now you could hear her ragged breathing and smell the smoke and alcohol on her hair and breath.

The tears came again and you silently cried into your pillow while the warrior slept soundly next to you, oblivious to your sorrow. Only Birna proved her loyalty to you by getting up from Eivor’s side of the bed and rolling up in the crook of your bent knees.

-

You must have fallen asleep at some point because you were woken the next morning by another salve of mumbled curses. It was still grey outside, dawn had only just begun. You stayed completely still and listened to Eivor dress herself and collect her weapons and shield from her trunk.

To your surprise, the warrior suddenly walked around to your side, crouched down, and lightly stroked your hair.

“Have a good day, my little bird. I will bring you honor and victory today,” she whispered, then she stood up and swiftly left the hut.

-

Let me know what you thought ❤️ (it’s okay if you hate me, I promise I’ll make it up to you in the next chapters)

[cherrychonk]

The Transfer part 11

You were back reading the diary of the victim. You could see the progress of the ship and many other details. Reading took you longer, you would occasionally peek and look at what the Chief was doing. She would answer dozens of calls and do overviews of many reports. While you watched her quietly.

Her brows were furrowed down, eyeglasses hung perfectly balanced on her nose as she wrote something down.

“Do you have a problem with my face officer?” Lin asked without looking at you.

You felt your face blush at being caught. “Huh?!”

She didn't look up from her work. “If I wanted a stalker, I could've asked Korra to leave her mutt here.”

“My apologies Chief! I just- You look- I…!?” Your mind short circuited as you went back to your papers. You buried your head in the notebook to hide the embarrassment showing in your face.

The next few days you spent reading the journal and writing anything significant in your notepad. You had fallen into a routine of coming early into the office with breakfast and coffee for the both of you and eating in comfortable silence. She would do paperwork or help the rookies with their work. Sometimes she would help Saikhan with operations and other times she would have meetings with President Moon. Lunch was spent with Jia or Mako, sometimes both. Other times Korra would come along too if she was free at the moment.

Coming back every day after lunch break you would resume your work, some days Lin would arrive an hour before your shift was over or even after it. You liked to stay longer to see her return and to make sure she had eaten. If she had a lot of paperwork (almost always) you would stay with her and help her after ordering some dinner.

Coffee was the go to every night when there was too much paperwork. The beverage keeping both of you going like gasoline. Sometimes you would have to fight to keep your eyes open and after a shot of coffee your eyes would open wide like dinner plates. She never seemed faced about it though. Probably since she had been doing this for years. But you smiled, she wouldn't have to be doing things alone now that you were here, you would help her.

________

Tonight both of you had finished dinner and were working on a lot of documents. Classifying and ordering forms, placing them in boxes and organizing everything. When the clock hit midnight you went to the break room and retrieved two coffees, handing her one. You brought the sugar jar and placed it on the desk, offering some to her before sitting down. You gave your coffee two spoons of sugar before stirring it, raising the cup to your lips and taking a sip. You always enjoyed the late night cups, they always seemed to taste better. You weren't sure why, it was the same cup you drank in the morning. Something, however, made it taste especially good at this time.

You watched as Lin did the same, two spoons of sugar and a few sips. You continued with the work when you heard the metallic sound of the spoon clicking in the jar. You looked up to see the spoon completely still but positioned differently than before. You decided to ignore it and went back to work, instantly the sound was back and you snapped your head to the jar.

“You alright?” The Chief asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, oki doki.” You replied, narrowing your eyes at the jar before looking back at your work.

This time when you heard the sound you didn't move your head, you listened carefully and looked from the corner of your eye to see the Chief pouring an ungodly amount of sugar into her coffee. You slowly and carefully moved your head so now you were staring at her. She took a sip, looking up she saw you staring and her cheeks turned red.

“What?!” She snapped.

You chuckled. “You know, you can put as much as you like. No shame there.” You said pushing the jar closer to her.

“You're making fun of me now, officer?” She growled, still embarrassed.

You quickly waved your hands. “No! No! Seriously, take as much as you want. I just didn’t know you like your coffee so sweet.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “It’s not a big fucking deal…”

You chuckled as she glared at you. “Well, it’s a big deal for me. So, how do you like your coffee?”

She looked at you dumbfounded, her arms softened and she grabbed her coffee looking at it, the dark liquid staring back at her. “Ummm well… I like my coffee lighter, with cream and a few spoons of sugar. I’m not a fan of the bitter taste.” Lin said, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Okay, I’ll be right back” You said standing up leaving the confused earthbender on her desk.

After a few minutes you came back with a new coffee, making it as she described and settling back on her desk. “Here, I hope this one is more of your liking.” You smiled.

The blush was still on her cheeks though more subtle now. She grabbed the coffee, taking a sip and she tried hard not to smile.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to.” Lin said softly.

“Nonsense!” You smiled. “I’m enjoying my coffee, you should enjoy yours too.”

With a smile you continued with your work as the earthbender looked at her new coffee. You would occasionally look up at her, sometimes meeting her gaze, you could've sworn that she blushed every time, because you sure did. Something inside you made you feel warm seeing her so soft around you and you couldn't help but smile.

Both of you finished the last of the paperwork, you stretched out and yawned. It was already three am and you had to wake up at six. You prayed that tomorrow would be slower.

“Spirits, what a long day we had.” You chuckled walking out of the office.

Lin hummed in agreement. “You want me to take you home?”

“It's okay, I can walk, go home.” You said walking down the station’s stairs and into the sidewalk.

She grabbed your arm roughly. “You are not walking home! Are you insane?! Come on, let's get you home.”

You laughed at her frustration but followed her into the patrol car, you sat comfortably as she turned the engine.

“Have you been walking alone all this time?!” She asked, irritated.

You yawned. “I didn't want to bother you and the exercise is good for me anyways.”

“I'm driving you home myself from now on, you're asking to be mugged by walking home alone for fucks sake.” She huffed, pissed by your antics.

Her ranting was stopped when she felt your head on her shoulder as you slept quietly by her side. She was stiff as a board on her way to your apartment, not wanting to wake you until she got there. Once she arrived she gently nudged you.

“Hey, we're here, wake up.” She said firmly.

“Ten more minutes…” You yawned, getting more comfortable on her shoulder.

“Y/N don't make me carry you.” She growled.

You didn't respond too far gone in sleep to care. She sighed, grabbing your bag and looking for your keys, with them in hands she grabbed you and carried you bridal style up your apartment stairs. Carefully unlocking the door she walked in, the place was neatly clean and it had a few more plants than last time, she noticed.

She carefully opened the bedroom door and laid you on the bed. She took your jacket off and rocked you a bit rough to wake you.

“Y/N if you're going to sleep in your uniform at least take your belt off. Also, you can come in at ten so you have a few more minutes of sleep.”

You didn't open your eyes though you have heard her. Instead your tired brain forced your hands to pull the belt off before you started to pull your pants down.

The earthbender quickly grabbed your blanket covering you in panic. “Well okay bye!” She said flustered as she hurried out of the room and out of the apartment, using her metalbending to lock the door.

She got into her patrol and started to drive away. Her mind was flooded with thoughts of you. She tried to think of anything else but failed miserably. Once in her building she parked her patrol and went up the front stairs where the doorman awaited her.

“Miss Beifong, more late paperwork I see.” The doorman spoke gently, opening the door and accompanying the earthbender to the elevator. He was an older gentleman, probably in his late seventies. Still he was strong and healthy. He was old fashioned and a person Lin considered a close friend.

“Yes, like always. Though I've been having help these past few nights. The transfer, Y/N has been helping me lately.” She asked.

“Ahhh I see, the hero cop.” He hummed.

Lin nodded softly. “Yeah, the crazy reckless one.”

“She must take after you.” He said in a chuckle.

Lin smirked. “You insult me Delun?”

“Oh of course not, she's a hero just like you. It brings me happiness to see you less stressed. She must be a huge help.”

Lin blushed, quickly scoffing to recover. “She's fine.”

The man raised an eyebrow and smiled. “She must be.”

Before Lin could ask what he meant they arrived at the elevator and he pressed the elevator button. “Good night Miss.”

“Night Delun.” She said softly.

Landing on her floor, she walked to the front door of her penthouse and settled her armor on the stand. She went straight to the bathroom where she undressed and turned on the shower. She allowed the water to fall on her face, trying to find anything to distract her thoughts. She cleaned herself with no urgency, finishing and dressing herself on a night gown.

Lin laid on her huge bed all alone while her mind was drowning with the thoughts of you. You were so thoughtful, maybe for you it was a simple act but for her? It was the most meaningful thing that had happened to her. She felt herself blush thinking of your smile and care, the fact you stayed to help her whenever she needed or that she even asked what she wanted and made it for her. The breakfasts and dinners to make sure she had eaten every day, made her heart warm up too.

Then Lin frowned, why would she keep thinking of you. Your kindness, the way you talked or acted. She reasoned she was just getting used to you being so open and different. Nothing more, she just appreciated your presence, not like she had a crush. Absolutely not, she was just thankful for your help, that's all.

Lin groaned, wrapping the blanket around her. “Snap out of it Lin.” She said softly before snoozing off.

________

Morning arrived, a little too fast for Lin’s liking. She arrived early at the station like every day. Feeling tired due to the late night work the other day. She watched the clock before sighing and walking around the station to mentally prepare for the day. She talked to Mako for a bit before checking the other officers and talking to Saikhan about a sting operation that would be happening in a few days.

After everything was said Lin walked back to her office, you weren't there yet. It was still seven fifty and the Chief told you to come in at ten so you could rest. You on the other hand had other plans as you all but burst through her office doors.

“Morning Chief!” You said with a wide smile. You were holding breakfast in one hand and a coffee holder on the other.

Lin was surprised to see you, most officers would kill to come in a bit later but here you were, bright and early with bags under your eyes just like hers. “Y/N, what are you doing here? I told you to stay till ten so you could rest.”

You settle everything on her desk, handing her a coffee cup. “Had to make sure you had breakfast, it's the most important meal of the day!” You said happily.

“What? Don't think I can take care of myself?” Lin raised an eyebrow.

“Did you have breakfast?” You deadpan.

She stayed silent and you smiled.

“Ahh yes, that's what I thought.” You sat on your desk eating away your sandwich.

Lin shook her head before sipping her coffee. This time she couldn't help the smile on her face as she tasted the sugar and cream.

“Lunch is on me.” She said, grabbing her sandwich.

You nodded and went back to your notes. Lin sighed contently, your presence bringing her unprecedented calmness.

[thotantics]

✗ warnings — graphic sexual content, do not read if you’re underage, dirty talk, begging, noona kink bc im still traesh, oral sex (male receiving), gagging, choking, driving under the influence of incredible mind blowing mouth love (seriously ALWAYS DRIVE SAFELY AND OBEY THE RULES OF THE ROAD)

✎ words —   1.6k

[A/N] @ the anon who said they’re always a slut for jungkook when he whines ‘noona’. bitch me too, the fuck

You stir awake with that distinct, groggy, I-just-napped-way-too-long feeling, groaning as your adjust to your surroundings. It’s late. Very, very late. You’re not at your place but instead, at your boyfriend’s and he’s still asleep, curled up behind you. Blearily, you blink over your shoulder at him, the big spoon.

“Jungoo,” You coo, shifting in his vice-like grip until you turn in his arms to face him. “Baby~ we fell asleep.”

He cracks one eye open to see you smiling at him, your fingers pushing his hair away from his forehead, and he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, mumbling with a low, half-asleep voice, “Hm, awesome. Lets stay asleep.”

You chuckle, using all your strength to bend your knees, pushing against his thighs and chest until you can untangle yourself from him and stand, despite his muffled, grumbled protests and his hands pawing at you to keep you near.

“Babe, I need to get home, I have work in the morning and so much to finish before I can do that.” You remind him, tapping his phone laying on the coffee table so the lock screen flashes with the time, and you groan, “Baaaabe! Wake up, please. It’s past midnight.”

Jungkook flips from his side to his back at that, stretching his limbs out along the length of the couch, his eyes finally cracking open again to see you rushing around his place to gather your things.

“Ok, ok.” He finally manages to get off the couch with an old-man grunt, stretching his lower back briefly before he snags his car keys, wallet, and phone from the coffee table. “You ready?”

Jungkook helps you take your things out to his car with countless yawns, and eventually you’re on the road headed back to your place, each with a Red Bull in hand.

You’re buzzing from the time wasted asleep on your boyfriend’s couch, but honestly the day you had spent together was worth it, even if you had little sleep tonight and a possible late start in the morning. Jungkook had picked you up for a simple date late that afternoon. You were supposed to hit up a theater that he had been wanting to take you to, and then he was supposed to take you back to your place for dinner, but, somewhere along the way your plans changed. Probably somewhere between you beating Jungkook at a game of air hockey in a nearby arcade and him throwing you up against the wall by the bathrooms and kissing you breathless in retaliation.

Regardless, your date had lasted way too long. You couldn’t be mad about it, not when you had such a good time. And apparently you were exhausted and needed to sleep, anyway. But you could still blame that on Jungkook. He had been the one to suggest you unwind a bit before you head home for dinner by watching Netflix and cuddling on the couch and sharing a bag of popcorn.

It was less than half an hour’s drive on the highway from his place to yours, especially if you were using Jungkook’s Mercedes instead of your old reliable. Your boyfriend had a special playlist for late night drives, because of course he does, and he has music playing softly within two minutes of the drive. You lean back in your seat, legs tucked up against the middle console, and turn to watch him as he sings along, thinking seriously about falling back to sleep.

Jungkook, glancing over when he notices your change of position, reaches across and lays a hand on your lap, palm up, fingers reaching/wiggling until you place your hand in his. The atmosphere is quiet, even with the music and his voice singing softly, the windows cracked to let just a little bit of the cool, night air in. You’re blinking slower and slower as one song fades into the next, and Jungkook glances over at you before he speaks.

“You know, you never paid me back.” He says this matter-of-factly, like you’re supposed to know what exactly he’s referring to, but you frown over at him because you definitely have no idea. “For earlier.” He offers with another quick glance from the road to look at you.

“What do you mean?” You ask, sitting up more in your chair and planting your feet back in the floor.

“How many times did I make you cum on my tongue?” He asks you. “And my fingers at least once, too?” He clicks his tongue, “Ah, it’s a shame our relationship is so one-sided these days.” He sighs, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smile even as he tuts at you.

You laugh at him, slapping his hand on your lap, “Hey, nobody asked you to do all that! You’re that extra all on your own!” You fold your arms defensively across your chest, “Besides, a healthy sex-life doesn’t work on a trading system anyway, Jungkook!”

“How does that saying go? Something about...you mouth my genitals and I’ll mouth yours?”

You bust out laughing, “I think it was more about scratching backs but, point taken.” You say with an eye roll.

You notice right away he’s fumbling with his belt, one handed, a proud smile on his lips and you quickly yell at him, “Ten and two!”

“Then help me out?” He suggests, shifting his tailbone back and spreading his thighs to give you easier access to the front of his jeans.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You ask him.

“C’mon`~” He glances over at you long enough to give you those sweet puppy-dog eyes and you reply with a firm shake of your head. “Noona~” He whines, “You said you would..”

“I will.” You reply, “When you aren’t operating a couple thousand pounds worth of metal going 60mph on an open highway!”

“Noona.” Jungkook emphasizes the endearment, the one he knows makes you weakest for him, “I promise I’ll keep both hands and eyes on the road and all of my mirrors. There’s no other vehicles around, no houses, nobody who could see us or make this drive any less safe.” Then he glances back over at you, pouty lips and big, sparkling eyes and he can’t stop himself from breaking into a wide grin even as he asks you sweetly, “Please~”

Dammit. He’s much too persuasive and you are way too easily persuaded, so you glance briefly around the parameter of the car, don’t notice any other headlights, so you slip out of your seat belt.

“If you thought I owed you, oh my god the sexual debt you’re in after this.” You tell him even as you shift into your seat on your knees.

But Jungkook doesn’t care, he’s absolutely beaming, using one hand to continue fumbling with the button of his jeans but you slap his hand away and do it yourself, reminding him with a quickly muttered, “Ten and two.”

He’s so excited at the prospect, he’s rock solid already when you free him from his jeans. He scoots lower in his seat, adjusting it so you have plenty of room to lean your front half over his lap, his elbow resting on the middle of your back and his hand gripping your hair, pushing your head down on his erection.

“Fuuuck, that’s it.” He groans, gripping the steering wheel with both hands and flexing his hips as your mouth envelopes his cock. “Ah, I love your mouth so much, baby.”

You hum in response, adjusting your position until you’re able to get him farther down your throat but at the exact wrong moment, because he hits a minor bump in the road and suddenly the head of him rams the back of your throat for a second, making you gag noisily on him and pull back, startled and out of breath.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, “I saw it, I couldn’t miss it.” He strokes your hair gently, hips flexing up so his cock head nudges against your lips, “Please, noona...it felt so good. I need to cum, really quickly, ok? Please~ keep going~”

The way he begs is like music to your ears, and you duck back down into his lap, mouth open and tongue out, slurping and swallowing and bobbing around his thick, solid dick. Jungkook’s a moaning mess under you, gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are white. He’s practically singing your praises as you work him, panting and rolling his hips with every shift of your head back away from him.

“Make me cum,” He grunts, voice low and desperate. You suck him hard, hallowing your cheeks, making obscene slurping noises as your hand reaches forward to massage his balls through the material of his boxers still in the way. Eyes opening, you notice the fabric is wet from drool and precum and you pull back, admiring the red tip of his cock right when he starts to cum.

Jungkook gasps, bucks, shoots you directly in the eye, and then one of his hands forces your head back down onto his spurting cock, finishing with a cry of your name down the back of your throat. With cum in your eye and sputtering out of the corners of your mouth, you choke on him but it doesn’t last long. He releases you with a panted apology, and then a laugh when he sees the way you’re squinting and grimacing as you pull away from his lap and settle back into your seat, fumbling for a napkin or a wet wipe.

Jungkook is still rock hard even as he laughs, sputtering apologies that you know he doesn’t really mean because he’s clearly enjoying himself way too much at your expense. You can’t be mad at him though, at least, not once you manage to get his sperm out of your eye and you can properly see his handsome face beaming back at you from the driver’s seat.

[lassieposting]

Ok...u got my attention...💘 for skuldugery and cassandra

OH BOY I GOT ONE

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

where they first met and how

Okay so when they first meet, it's way back before he met Skugwife, when he was on-again-off-again with China and Ghastly and making his way up the ranks in the Sanctuary army.

A dashing young officer with an impressive inheritance and a string of victories under his belt would've been prime 1600s marriage real estate. They meet at some Sanctuary party, dance together a bit, get along very well. Skug was already arrogant and vain, but he was also charming and funny, which was a bonus, and they were social equals - she's from a wealthy, landed family herself. She was interested in him and they were in each other's social circle from around his mid-20s to when he met Wifey and fell disgustingly in love, at which point she conceded defeat and let him go.

It's actually Gordon who brings them back into each other's lives in the 1980s. They've both changed a lot since they last saw one another and she's not really sure what to make of him. He's colder, more serious, and she knows he's lost...pretty much everyone. When she tells him to come by anytime, he's polite but detached and basically says that's not a good idea, so she doesn't expect to see much of him in the future. But he comes back some months later with a difficult case to ask if she's seen anything, and from that point on they work together sporadically, if she has any visions that might be useful to him.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

They rekindle their flirtation after he comes back in Dark Days. He's not okay, not in the slightest, and she can see it. He's faking being okay, but he's overselling it. She knew him through the period where his mother was killed, and he tried to play that off the same way. He ends up driving out to her cottage at some ungodly hour of the early morning because he's falling apart and he doesn't really have anywhere else to go. she takes him in, sits with him until long after the sun comes up and lets him talk it out until he's dozing off where he's sitting.

By the War of the Sanctuaries, they're Together.

who fell for who first ( if applicable )

She was rather taken with him when they first met. She liked to think of herself as the future Mrs Captain Pleasant. He was attracted to her, but also otherwise entangled and considerably less invested.

When they get back together, it's more. Falling in love at the same time.

where their first date was and what it was like

They've spent a lot of time together, usually at her cottage, already. But he gets it into his head he wants to take her on an actual date, and she's a homebody, so he decides to make her dinner. It's kind of a disaster because he hasn't had to cook anything in hundreds of years - he follows a recipe, but he still manages to burn it and get food absolutely everywhere with the electric whisk. He's pretty frustrated and upset that he ruined it, but she finds it hilarious, and they end up cuddling on the couch with takeout and a movie.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

She gives him a key. She prefaces it with a big speech about how it doesn't have to mean anything, he just spends so much time there that he might as well be able to let himself in, and she wants him to have somewhere he really feels safe and comfortable and her place can be that for him if he wants, and -

He kisses her mid-speech, so she never gets to finish it.

who proposes first

He does. She'd never bring up marriage to him, when she knows how his first one ended. She can't be completely sure he's done grieving his first love, and she doesn't want to hurt him, so it's better not to bring it up.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

It's not a secret at all. Valkyrie still goes nearly a decade without noticing.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

They're in bed together first thing in the morning. He doesn't remember the last time he was this relaxed and happy. He watches her wake up and she cuddles closer into him with the squinty morning-sun-in-your-face look and he never thought he'd love this much again and it just. Comes out.

who’s more dominant

Neither, really. They're very much a team. She tempers his recklessness, and he gives her a nudge out of her comfort zone. She has the same ability Wifey had, though, to wrangle him without ever letting on that she's doing it.

where their first kiss was and what it was like

He was totally drained after unloading a year's worth of torture on her post-Dark Days, and she was trying to comfort him. It doesn't lead anywhere - she puts him to bed on her couch and stays with him so he feels safe enough to switch off and sleep.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? )

She buys him a hideous Christmas sweater the first year they're officially together, but has yet to successfully bully him into wearing it.

how into pda they are

They're your average couple. If she drops in on him at the Sanctuary, she'll kiss him goodbye. He'll put his arm around her when they're walking, or let her hold his hand. But neither of them is an exhibitionist.

who holds the umbrella when it rains

He does. He could easily just redirect the rain, but she likes nature stuff and that includes getting soaked through on occasion, kissing him in the rain, and splashing through puddles.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

Her cottage, more often than not. He'll happily take her out whenever she wants to, but she's a homebody at heart and she's more fond of going for long walks in the countryside near her home or cooking together, watching old movies, that sort of thing.

who’s more protective

Him, by a million miles. She doesn't necessarily like the amount of violence in his life, but to her he's very much the capable soldier who can look after himself. But she is a pacifist and very into the hippie ideology, so especially after the Night of Knives, she relies on him to protect her. He knows damn well that the only reason he didn't lose her the same night Finbar died is because he just happened to be sleeping over and the would-be assassin got more than he bargained for.

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

Probably circa KOTW? It can't have been Death Bringer, or he'd have asked her to the Requiem Ball.

if they argue about anything

Not often. She's one of the most emotionally healthy people in this series, and she's the closest Skulduggery Pleasant has ever gotten to therapy. She's all about communication and talking it out.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. )

Skug.

who steals whose clothes and how often

She steals his jackets and coats. She'll wear something just a little too light for the weather, so that he'll inevitably offer her his suit jacket. It's an old way of courting that she finds very endearing.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? )

what their favourite nonsexual activity is

They bring out the Old Person in each other. They like to go for long walks, and picnics, and dancing to old gramophone records. They read books and bicker about how much they did or didn't enjoy them. She likes to garden and paint, and he's not half bad at art either, so they'll paint each other and laugh about it.

how long they stay mad at each other

They don't. They argue very little in the first place, but Cassie is very communicative, so she usually manages to head off any potential arguments before they even start.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

She has hot chocolate, and he has his black.

if they ever have any children together

No - but if he was ever going to have children with anyone else, it should probably be Cassie. She's sensible, level-headed and emotionally healthy, so he could be the same loving-but-irresponsible dad he was with Skugbab.

if they have any special pet names for each other

She's "Cassie" and he's usually "sweetheart" or "lovey".

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

He "moves into"/spends most of his time at her little hippie hobbit hole, so nothing matches, tapestries everywhere, Interesting™ colour schemes, fuckin...crystals and tarot cards and witchy shit everywhere. They both have to make some compromises ("You don't bug me about making the bed and I won't play the banjo in the shower")

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like

Very inappropriate to talk about at parties.

He's a Christmas grouch, but he did get two days off work, so they basically spent the entire time eating, fucking or fast asleep.

what their names are in each other’s phones

She's just "Cassie" but that makes her one of the few people in his phone not to be "Firstname Lastname". He's "SP".

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? )

They can never really make plans for set days or times because of his incredibly erratic work schedule, but they make time every week to just spend time together. Unless the world is ending, which it usually does at least once a year.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

She falls asleep first at a sensible hour, and wakes up when he gets in. If she sleeps through him coming home, he'll stay up for an hour or two to work on a case, but if he wakes her, he'll go straight to bed and she'll go back to sleep with him holding her.

After the Night of Knives, she gets very anxious and stressed about being alone, especially when she hears the door open. So he'll call and wake her when he's leaving the Sanctuary, so that she knows to expect him home, and he's at the end of the phone any time she wants to get hold of him.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

He's the big spoon like 70% of the time, but she's not opposed to letting him be the little spoon at all. Even the strongest general sometimes needs a good snuggle.

who hogs the bathroom

Cassie likes to take a book into the bath and spend hours in there. He'll come in and out as he pleases and sometimes do her hair for her or swipe bubbles on her nose.

who kills the spiders / takes them outside

Skug. This is, apparently, one of the greatest benefits to having him around all the time. He's glad she's comfortable enough with him to be honest that she's using him for his spider removal skills.

[nctworststuff]

Pairing- Boyfriend!Renjun x nospecific!reader

Warning-Death,Cancer

Genre: Angst

a/n: Here what you guys got after a months I’m not post anything. Also Thank you my friend,Lucy because helping me a lot :). Hope you guys like it

He always with you

He avoided meeting with you lately. You missed to spend time with him so much. You missed his scent, his hugs, his kisses, his presence, but most importantly, you missed him.

You recently spent a lot of time in your apartment, all by yourself. Watching movies, drinking hot chocolate and staying under your fluffy blanket. Sometimes you went to hangout with your friends, but not as often as you used to. However, today you couldn't take it anymore. I have to visit him, now!

Deep inside you knew that he would never cheat on you. What if something bad had happen to him? Maybe he got sick or maybe something in his family came up? You didn't know. Helplessly you scrolled through your media social. Usually, he would be active on Instagram. Always adding things to his story or at least posting the pictures he made. But ever since 3 weeks ago, you haven't seen him post a single thing. As if he vanished.

You took a look at your photo gallery on your phone. It's filled with pictures of you and Renjun. Everytime the two of you had met in the past months, you had taken at least one picture. Are you okay, renjun?

You didn't want to waste your time anymore, so you walked into your bedroom to change your outfit. You arrived at his house that felt like a second home to you. Big dark clouds covered the sky and sun. It may rain soon. You slowly walked to the door and opened it with the spare key Renjun gave you not so long ago.

You couldn't see him when you entered. Maybe he is in his bedroom? You steped further into his apartment. It was a big mess. You tried to comprehend what could've happened here. The TV was on, adding some noise to the otherwise quiet space. Some old snacks that have neither been fully eaten nor thrown away, covered the floor. It surely wasn't healthy for him to life in all this trash.

You finally went upstairs and pressed the door handle down slowly after knocking and getting no reply. Who knows, maybe he's sleeping? However  you suddenly heard a faint crying sound instead of the silence. What's happening to him? Thousands of thoughts were running in your head, creating one scenario worse than the other. "Renjun?" You softly called out his name and fully opened the door. He turned his head and body to look at you, surprised by your arrival. His eyes were more red than white and his face looked as white as freshly fallen snow did.

"Y/n? W-what are you doing here?" He looked at you with what you could only assume was an angered expression. You slowly approached him and sat down on his mattress beside him. You hesitantly leaned your head on his shoulder and put your hand on his thigh, joining his own one. Oh, how often you had fiddled with his slender fingers before. They were just as beautiful as the art they created, but now they were just dried skin and bone. You were convinced, something bad happen to him!

"And why are you crying?", you asked him in return, probably a bit too late, but not that it matered anyways. He kept quiet for about a minute, before taking a deep breath and forcing those awful words out of his mouth. "I have a disease! I-I have cancer..." He closed his eyes tightly to hold himself back from sobbing. The fear that lived within him ever since the doctor told him he was going to die earlier than expected, suddenly skyrocket in your presence.

Shutting you out in the hope of making you forget him, had been so much easier than seeing your heart break right in front of him. You didn't deserve the pain he caused you, so why...? Why are you still here y/n? Why couldn't you stay away from me? "So that's the reason why you pushed me away? The reason you avoided me? Why didn't you tell me? Renjun? Explain it to me. Please explain everything." you looked at his eyes that beared so many emotions, while he bit his chapped lips.

"I-I don't know. I... I was just so, so scared. Actually, I-I knew I had cancer... It... They told me a year ago."

His confession was interrupted by a hiccup. He started crying again and put his hand on his face. You've been together for 3 years and he kept this a secret for all the time, telling you just now? "I-I'm only going to live for one more week. My doctor said there is no other way for me." Why? Why did he need to leave like this? Couldn't he be healthy and grow old with me? Searching in your confused and helpless mind you looked for a solution.

"Hey, i-it's okay. Its not your fault! I-I could spend all my money for your surge-", but he cut you off with a harsh movement by his hand. "You heard what I said. There's no chance, y/n!" Now your eyes were filling with tears, blurring your sight. This can't be true! "You said you would never leave me. You- You promised." The tears poured out of their home, painting a wet line down your cheeks until they dropped down your chin, falling. You too, felt like falling. You were so angry, but not at him, no, he didn't wanted this either. You were angry at the situation. At the fact that you couldn't do Anything.

Watching your little emotional breakdown, Renjun stayed quiet. After he had avoided meeting you for so long, seeing you come back to him, crying with him, still caring for him, there was only one thing he wanted. "Y/n? Can I ask for one last thing, before death is taking me?" He moved his hand to your shoulder, pressing it softly. "Anything for you, Renjun!" You desperately looked into his eyes, meeting his softened expression. "I just want to spend my last week with you. Please. One last time?"

Day 2

Standing in the kitchen for about half an hour, you had made a healthy breakfast for the two of you, since he loved your cooking. You poured some hot porridge into his favourite bowl and placed it on the tray. Walking slowly to not drop anything you brought the food to his bedroom. He was still asleep, looking utterly peaceful.

While you put the tray on a near small table, you called his name softly, to wake him up. Upon hearing his name, his eyelids fluttered open. Still a bit sleepy, he rubbed his eyes and gave you a questioning look. "I made some porridge for you. Should I... feed you?" You smiled at him shyly. He could just nod his head, feeling exhausted even after taking such a long nap.

You sat down beside him and took the spoon to feed him. He followed your every move as you put the still warm porridge in his mouth. A big smile suddenly stretched across his cheeks. "I knew your cooking would never disappoint me!", he complimented, making you giggle. Yet, you couldn't ignore the sad feeling in your chest, knowing you had to accept the fact that he was going to die soon. Only five days would be left after today.

Of course Renjun noticed the way your expression changed. “I dont like to see you sad. Please smile for me” He grabbed your other hand too, making you smile. The smile only he got to see. You don't even know if the sweet smile you were currently wearing on your face would show up for another guy, but for now it seems like it is just for Renjun, who finally noticed the bracelet on your wrist.

"You still wear that bracelet?” His eyes fixated on your wrist. You just watched him with sparkling eyes, while thinking back to how you got that gift.  “Of course! It looks so pretty and it bears a lot of memories for me!” He smiled at you with just the same sparkles glowing in his eyes, making your heart beat unbelievable fast in your chest. You didn't knew why, but the comforting feeling of love, the love created between the two of you, filled your now shared room. Softly touching your own cheeks you felt how they heated up.

“It's- wait... I gave you the bracelet 5 years ago, when it was your birthday? A-and we still didn't turn into lovers that day, did we?”, his eyes widened. You simply nodded and started chuckling, him joining not much later. Of course you could still remember the day he gave you the precious bracelet. He was being so shy back then, when he planned to give it to you. Haechan, Mark and all the other dreamies kept hyping him up, after he gave it to you.

“You know what? I really can't believe our relationship will just end soon. I really thought we would last longer. I'm sorry!” He smiled at you again, but this time it was a sad smile. You sighed, closing your eyes in agony. “It's not your fault, it never was, Renjun! After all, these moments are the most precious ones that we have. Trust me, I will love and remember you until I take my last breath!” I'll really do! Besides bringing it up first, you hated talking about his disease so much.

Not because you blamed it on him. Not because you couldn't believe, he was going to die soon, no. You hated talking about it because you feared being left behind. You hated the fact that you'll eventually forget about him. That you'll forget how he smelled, how his hands felt, how his hugs felt. And the worst thing was, that you'll forget how it felt to be loved by him. When did all your laughter turn into cries?

Day 4

"Look! It's your favourite flower!” Renjun points his finger to a small bunch of flowers in the middle of the park. You loved going to this park with him before and today wasn't any different. Softly swining your linked hands back and forth and slowly walking near your favourite flower felt like one of those cliché moments from a drama. Especially when you kneeled down to smell on it.

The heavy, but lively smell of the rose lingered in your nose, bringing up even more memories. Renjun gave you one of those exact roses, when he had confessed that he liked you. A small grin made it's way to your lips. “It looks so pretty.”, Renjun said while putting his arm around your shoulders, “Pretty like you!” You couldn't help, but roll your eyes. This was typically him. Renjun loved to compliment and tease you at the same time

You loved the moments when he was simply being himself. He was acting different. Usually he would be rather harsh, or how people liked to put it, ignorant towards other people’s feelings. But he always cared for you. You were his soft spot. It was only normal that couples had little fights from time to time, but renjun never let the two of you be angry at each other for a long time.

He always was the first one to apologize, or if it wasn’t his mistake, he would still want to make up, inviting you to do something that you liked. His classic line which always worked was weather you would want to eat some food ugh him. It was one of the many personality traits that you liked about him

“Ah! I really want to draw the pond and swan over there! It’s unbelievable pretty!” He excitedly took out his paintings tools and moved the stuff around until it stood perfectly within his reach while drawing. You just followed him and tried to not get in his way.

Tipping the smallest brush into the water glass, he started to draw the perfect scenery in front of you. He truly was talented at this. You couldn’t help but admire the way he let the colors dance on the Canva “Your drawing is so unbelievable. It really does look like it’s real”

His face lit up,once the words left your mouth “This is the last painting I”ll before I’m gone. I want it to be perfect!”he still smiled at you, but his eyes showed how he truly felt. The sadness dominating any other feels. Once again, you sighed. It has been almost 3 years, since you’ve been a couple and now you two just stood there, waiting for him to leave

Quickly noticed How your mood shifted towards a bad one, you tried to change the topic

There will be enough time for me to sad once he left

“Do you remember that this place is the first place we met and-“ “The place where I confessed my feelings for you?” He finished your sentence with a smirk. Chuckling you nodded at the statement

That day he called you and asked you to meet him at the park “ can you cell me?” was that he said, when he actually was going to confess to you. You can’t forget that day. You never will. It’s a very precious moment to you, even if he stuttered a lot and the confession felt really awkward too

“Your birthday is this week, isn’t it?” Renjun suddenly asked. You stopping your thoughts. Right, you totally forgot about your birthday. Surprised you just hummed and nodded. “What do you want for your birthday?” You didn’t need to think twice “I just want you stay alive and healthy. I wish you could always be my side” you smile confidently

That will never happen

It was obvious to renjun, but to avoid you sadder he just smile sweetly at you instead of responding “Can we go somewhere after this? Maybe the shopping mall?” You asked him. He looked at you and hugged you close to his chest “Of course!”

He would spend his time with you wisely and make sure that every precious and special moment will never be forgotten

Day 7

I can't lose him! Please!

You buried your face into his shoulder and grabbed his sweater like your own life depended on holding it. You couldn't believe he was going to die in less than a day. He couldn't... Your fragile, pathetic hope only faded more when he started coughing. In the last few days his condition extremely worsened and you tried to understand why people needed to suffer before dying so much. Isn't death enough?

“It's your birthday tomorrow, isn't it?”, he quietly asked while stroking your back.  “Yes” Your answer was barely loud enough to hear, being muffled by his neck. Still, you hugged him only tighter, afraid of finally losing him. “Y/n, I'm so sorry if I'm not able to be with you tomorrow to celebrate your birthday.” You knew what’s he meant. No, this couldn't be happening! Why were you suddenly to dumb to accept it?

“Please find a better guy than me. A guy who will make you happy, who will stay loyal to you and only loves you. Find a guy who will stay by your side forever. Don't find another guy who'll make you feel dissapointed.” You wanted to tell him, that he never disappointed you, but he already pulled you into a sweet kiss. His lips felt so soft. Soft but rough. It was like your first kiss with him. It was like your first night with him. But in reality, it was your last kiss with him. Yet you saw it as another moment that had been created in this special time.

“You know... I am never going to stop loving you!” You said and looked at him. His face was so pale, you could see the soft blue shining through it. “Me too, honey. There are 7 billion people on this earth but I fell in love with you. We have been a long journey together. Everyone can fall in love but not everyone has a happy ending with it. I'm sorry that I couldn't keep my promise, Y/n!” I know, Renjun.

The worst part for you was that it all happened so fast. But somehow you still hoped this was only a dream. That you would wake up to a healthy Renjun wishing you a happy birthday. Finally the clock was showing 12 AM. It was your birthday. Sounding just as sleepy as you felt he whispered a soft “Happy birthday, Y/n!” He stroked your hair while looking at you with loving eyes, a smile on his lips for the last time, before you both fall asleep under your shared blanket.

Not knowing, that they were his last words.

Day 8

You woke up from a deep slumber and moved your blanket. You saw that Renjun was still ‘sleeping’. Softly you shaked him to wake him up, with no sign of success. He didn't response in any way. After a few more times of you trying to wake him up and him still not moving an inch, you tried to recall which date it was today.

No, it can't be.

Yesterday was the last day you would spend with him. One week. Seven days. All moved by faster than you could remember. In your final hope you searched for his heartbeat, but you didn't hear anything. You couldn't. Now you would need to accept the fact that he was gone. Forever.

You start sobbing. "Renjun, please wake up. Please!" Despite your wobbly arms, you shook his body, screaming so uncontrollably loud that it even hurt your ears. It's my birthday. Today is supposed to be a happy day. This has to be a nightmare. I'll always be by your side. Resonating in your mind you hear a faint voice, but you just ignore it. Renjun was right. Not everyone has a happy ending. And you were certainly one of them.

I'm sorry for breaking our promise

©ɴᴄᴛᴡᴏʀsᴛsᴛᴜғғ@/ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ

[goonandfightme]

Numbers Pt.1

After a particularly horrifying case involving a serial killer starving his victims, Spencer Reid of the BAU relapses into old habits as past trauma resurfaces. The team slowly catches on as Reid falls further into his eating disorder and addictions but will they be able to help him before it's too late?

Pt.1 Concentrate

Trigger Warnings - EDs, drug use and addiction, child abuse.

Spencer Reid knew he has a problem at age 10. He had a routine, and once Spencer Reid had a routine it became part of him. He would wake up at 6 am, ensure his mother was asleep, pick his outfit for the day. His messenger bag would be packed with textbooks, notes and pens. He would brush his teeth, shower, then get dressed He went through this mental checklist, these motions were fluid, practised and precise. The clock would read 7:30 am, he would leave the house to grab the bus to go to school. High school. He was two years short of graduation, his mother had insisted on it, he was smart, he was special, he could be anything he wanted, he could have anything he wanted.

He would leave his lunch behind.

He would get picked on, laughed at, kicked, bruised all too easily, then go home. If his mother was lucid, he would have a proper meal, if not, whatever he could reach from the cupboards. He was malnourished, the corner of his lips cracked from b-vitamin deficiency, the rims of his eyes white from anaemia, his hair messy and breaking. People only knew him as his shadow of himself, no concerns were raised.

He would complete his homework, lay on his bed, his heart would palpitate, his world would spin. No one noticed, his grades hadn’t slipped, he never participated in sports. No one noticed.

His alarm sounded; it was 6 am. He started again; his lungs screamed, his heart pounded, and his headache came back, he always had a headache, but Spencer Reid had a routine, and he would stick to it. He went to check on his mother.

--Present Day--

It was six-thirty and Reid was getting ready for his day at work, removing his pyjamas while he waited for the shower to heat. The top came over his head easily, it was baggy, it was more than a couple of months old, it didn’t fit him anymore. He looked forward towards the full body mirror, tossing the clothes into the hamper, his face was thin, as it always had been, even when he was a healthy weight he’d always struggled with his figure. Brushing his hair out of his face he looked closer running his fingers over his features, saw how his eyes were more hallow, he pulled the lower lid down the reveal the ghostly white colour it had become, his cheekbones slightly more pronounced and painful to press against, his jaw slightly sharper in contrast to how he felt. His hand dipped and traced over his ribs, he could count them all, name them if he wanted, then his hand lowered to his wrist. His thumb and middle finger enclosing the joint, measuring how far he could raise it, whether it would come past his elbow, would it fit past his bicep. It stopped just after his elbow and he squeezed as if trying to rip his flesh after, from the bone, the white marks lingered across the already pale limb.

“White marks that last after applying pressure to the skin suggest poor blood circulation, common among those with anorexia nervosa.” There was no one there to hear him but when he was alone, he liked to talk aloud it helped him think through things slower, it helped keep him calm. “It also causes the exterminates to become cold and discoloured,” he looked down towards his feet. He removed his trousers, the shower warm and producing a numbing white noise as Reid continued his routine. Checking how each bone moved under his skin, thin, grey and translucent. He had so much more to lose.

“Grey skin indicates poor blood oxygenation, which can be caused by anaemia, a low level of iron within the blood that prevents red blood cells from delivering oxygen effectively. A common symptom of malnutrition.” He breathed out slowly to calm himself as he turned on his heel to enter the shower, it was much warmer than his apartment, the floor cold and unwelcoming, he was always cold anyway. He made quick work of scrubbing down his body, no longer wanting to look at it, feel it. He spent longer on his hair, it no longer sat right, it would always fly away as it became more brittle, he wasn’t the biggest fan of the longer-haired look but it suited him, made his face slimmer, so he kept it.

Reid turned the tap off and jumped out as quickly as his legs would let him, he swiped his towel off of the rack and placed it on his face, holding the weight in his hands as his head stopped swirling, then used it to finish drying himself off. He walked back into his bedroom where his clothes laid neatly. He placed on his underwear socks and trousers, a cream shirt and striped tie, a thick soft orange jumper to go with it, then blazer, then belt, he tightened and placed it through the newest punched hole. It was a nice belt he didn’t want to get rid of it. Checking that the apartment was in order and that everything had been done, everything he needed was in his bag, he picked up his keys from the dish and left after briefly sorting his hair in the hallway mirror.

It was another day at the BAU for Reid. Walking over to the staff space he started the kettle and placed his bag down, he retrieved his favourite mug and placed three teaspoons of coffee in. Once the water was boiled he filled his mug and let the thick scent waft through the air, he grabbed the sugar and poured, originally he would have counted the spoons of sugar but decided that cutting out the middle man would save time, he was slightly late as it was. “Want some coffee with that sugar?”

“Had a long night, need something to keep me functioning” Reid retorted as he turned to face Morgan who stood behind him placing his lunch in the fridge. “Nice one pretty boy, what was she like?” Morgan smiled. “Not that kind of long night,” he picked up his bag and walked towards his desk before Morgan had a chance to reply. He slouched down into his seat while taking another sip of his coffee and reached down to grab a file from the bottom of his desk drawer and after rummaging for a while he found it. A wave of nausea hit and Reid lent forward over the desk to stop his stomach from protesting, his body wasn’t used to this level of starvation. He’d lowered his intake from 700 to 500 yesterday, it was taking time to adjust.

The BAU hadn’t had a case for over two days so the team was catching up on all paperwork that needed doing, anything that had been shoved in draws to be forgotten was to be finished and filed.

He opened the file and glanced over the first page, thumbing over the papers to spread them out. Emily Moore, aged 25, died of malnutrition after a serial killer had starved her to death. Reid placed his right hand beneath his chin and ran his thumb over his mouth as he traced a finger over the outline of her body and closed his eyes. That was four months, two days and three hours ago that case started, and it was four months, two days and three hours since Reid had relapsed. He could see them still so vividly, all of them hung up like puppets, so skinny and frail. He still couldn’t bring himself to finish the file.

“Reid?” Hotchner asked, Spencer, opened his eyes to see the team filling into the meeting room as Hotch stared at him from across the room. Reid quickly snapped the file shut and followed behind everyone else, Hotchner joining the line afterwards. Spencer enclosed his hand around his wrist to help his heart stop beating as fast. It calmed him down, he didn’t even realise he had done it. Hotch was absorbed in his paperwork.

Reid sat down next to Morgan in his unassigned assigned seat as Gideon began the brief and Reid for one of the first times since he had met Gideon, didn’t listen to him.

I shouldn’t have had that much sugar, how much did I have, right, the coffee cup was about 5cm in diameter so that means the area of the cup was five multiplied by pi, then to find the volume of sugar the cup raised about 1cm.

“The victim was found face down lying in a pool of her own blood.” Gideon turned to the board displaying pictures of the woman.

The volume of sugar would be 15.7cm squared, which equates to about 25 grams of sugar which is 80 calories.

“Nothing was left at the crime scene, but her hands were bound with what appears to have been some sort of rope shown by the burn marks.”

“Could have suggested the killer was physically weak, needed to restrain her to get his way” Elle interjected. “Judging that the unsub took the rope it probably means he also brought it, premediated, definitely an organised killer,” Morgan added.

Why didn’t I just measure it out it would have made this so much easier, I’ll round it up to 100 just in case.

“Local police teams have already sectioned off the scene,” Hotch added, “alright but why call us, nothing about this case seems extraordinary, seems like a run of the mill homicidal rapist,” Elle questioned while looking to Gideon. “Well,” Gideon started.

If I can get home by 8 pm I can burn off that coffee, wait no if I run home then I can leave later but still burn it so if I have the 500, well now I can have 420 no 400, then I can-

“Right let’s go, the jet leaves in half an hour.”

With that the team all stood up abruptly, creating a whirlwind around Reid that made him snap out of his thoughts, his head and eyes darted around the room trying to figure out what was happening. He jumped out of his seat to follow everyone out but was stopped at the door.

“You alright Reid?”

Spencer spun back round to face Gideon who was looking at him, seeming to expect an answer. “Sorry, what was that?” Gideon's face became stern as his eyebrow slightly lifted along with his chin, he was not just looking at him, he was analysing. “I just wanted to know if you were alright?”

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine” Reid frantically looked across the room trying not to meet the other man’s gaze, “I’m just going to go grab my stuff” he stated while starting to walk backwards out of the room, pointing behind him with his thumb. “Uh yeah, see you on the plane,” he turned almost bumping into JJ “sorry JJ I uh didn’t see you sorry,” and with that, he took off to go grab his bag.

JJ turned to Gideon with a questioning look. “Keep an eye on him” was all he said before also going to grab his bag. Gideon wasn’t a man to say anything unless he was sure unless it was important, but he was worried. His intuition was screaming at him that something was wrong, but Reid would be at least three steps ahead if he didn’t want anyone to know. Damn profilers.

They had all swarmed into the jet and had taken their seats. Reid lay in the long seat reading a book, but not at his normally inhuman speed, it was slower, only just noticeably. Hotch sat next to Gideon reading all the information they had on the case thus far again, making sure nothing was missed. Gideon watched. They were sat at the other end of the plane with Reid’s back to them, the other team members preoccupied with their activities.

“Something’s wrong with Reid.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look at him.”

Hotch looked up from his papers and looked towards Reid, Gideons line of sight hadn’t wavered since he sat down. Hotch looked back from Reid to the man next to him. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s anxious, jumpy, overreactive,” Gideon still looked over to the boy and Hotch joined back, “I asked him this morning after the brief, he didn’t turn his back to me once until he was out of the room.”

“He was being defensive, wouldn’t turn his back on the perceived threat,” Hotchner added, “he knew the answer but couldn’t tell you, he looks at you as a father figure you know, he doesn't want to disappoint you”

Gideon paused, “he probably does, he doesn’t know much about his father,” he said shaking his head, they sat and observed in silence.

“He’s not turning pages as quickly as he normally does,”

“He’s not turning pages as quickly as he normally does,” Gideon repeated, “how’s his paperwork?” he finely looked away from the younger man. “Still exemplary, maybe a little less than normal but handed in on time, it hasn’t suffered any more than anyone else’s while we’ve been busy.”

Gideon nodded “somethings eating away at him, I just don’t know what.” There was a pause.

"There was one file I never got back."

[skiyoosmi]

oh my u followed me back im so honoured😳 that hc u wrote was really good!! especially considering its your first uwaaaa may i req bokuto, kuroo and the miya twins having an smol s/o who has a sweet childish personality hcs👉🏻👈🏻

ღೃ*  𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲  ༉‧₊˚✧

𝘽 𝙊 𝙆 𝙐 𝙏 𝙊

✎ . . . .   the inseparable power couple

✎ . . . .   he aDORES YOU SO MUCH THAT HE BRAGS YOU OFF TO HIS TEAMMATES EVERY. SINGLE. MOMENT.

✎ . . . .   they almost know everything about you because of how much he talks about you

✎ . . . .   but they just let him be because moody bokuto is a biG NO

✎ . . . .   poor akaashi— he has to hear bokuto ramble about how smol and squishy you are

✎ . . . .   if he’s not with bokuto, he’s with you

✎ . . . .   let’s say you’re vv close with him as well

✎ . . . .   this time... he’ll hear your gushing about your boyfriend

✎ . . . .   he literally deadpans at the two of you and get tired of hearing the names y/n and bokuto over and over again

✎ . . . .   akaashi’s thoughts: i’m dying can’t they both just shut up for once

✎ . . . .   anyways,, you breathe = bokuto squeals

✎ . . . .   fights are not in your vocabularies

✎ . . . .   with both of your childishness, fukurodani becomes even louder

✎ . . . .   as if it wasn’t already loUD BEFORE????

✎ . . . .   during his practices and matches, you’re practically his cheering squad; always making sure that you shout his name and clap

✎ . . . .   you literally order ask those around you to cheer as well

✎ . . . .   a sTRONG WOMAN I STAN

✎ . . . .   this gives relief to akaashi because there’s less of moody bokuto

✎ . . . .   akaashi thoughts part 2: y/n, bless your parents for making you and letting you exist

𝙆 𝙐 𝙍 𝙊 𝙊

✎ . . . .   a mf tEASE

✎ . . . .   he’ll never let you hear the end of it; casually throwing jokes here and there

✎ . . . .   but then you fight back... and attack his hair he apparently “spent hours” on fixing

✎ . . . .   a childish banter is a norm for the two of you

✎ . . . .   kenma ALWAYS grumbles how annoying you two are because you always turn to him to ask who’s right or smth like that

✎ . . . .   poor baby stuck with idiOTS

✎ . . . .   both of you are??? s i m p s for each other

✎ . . . .   there was this one time where he actually took the joke too far and yAKU has to scold him for it

✎ . . . .   cause he relates with being smol lmao,, sorry yakumama

✎ . . . .   he then makes up to you and says sorry for literally a thousand times

✎ . . . .   being the sweet partner you are, you also kiss him a thousand times

✎ . . . .   *internally sCREAMS*

✎ . . . .   he absolutely loves giving you a bear hug anytime of the day because you’re so smol like he literally cradles you

✎ . . . .   especially after they win a game!!1!

✎ . . . .   he’d be like: cooing

✎ . . . .   “baby, you’re so cuteEEe...”

✎ . . . .   “tetsu, i’m the SAME AGE AS YOU?!”

✎ . . . .   “but you’re so small and li- oW!! WHAT THE HELL YOU—”

𝙊 𝙎 𝘼 𝙈 𝙐

✎ . . . .   i honestly think it would take a lot of time and effort before he becomes really comfy with a stranger; i feel like he would be a little more on the formal side (just a little bit because he can still be blunt or aloof) when meeting someone new

✎ . . . .   sOOOo you were probably the one who approached him through atsumu

✎ . . . .   with a sweet personality like yours, you got close in no time

✎ . . . .   you always have this aura with him that’s so touching

✎ . . . .   inarizaki team be like: miya osamu, you have become a mAN

✎ . . . .   conversations: FOOD RECIPES esp. onigiri

✎ . . . .   in his eyes, you were the sun, moon and stars combined

✎ . . . .   osamu’s thoughts: how could the whole universe fit into this smol bean????

✎ . . . .   wHIPPED

✎ . . . .   months later, atsumu realizes his brother’s feelings for you

✎ . . . .   samu would ask how’d he know

✎ . . . .   “bITCH IM YOUR TWIN OF COURSE I KNOW”

✎ . . . .   “it took you months???”

✎ . . . .   atsumu would probably unconciously snitch on him because of his loud mouth

✎ . . . .   “soOoo... samu, a little birdie told me you like me???”

✎ . . . .   DAMN YOU ATSUMU

✎ . . . .   he’s internally screaming because he never planned to confess so soon?!?!?

✎ . . . .   “don’t worry, samu... i like you too!!”

✎ . . . .   you gave him a bright smile and he was sure as hell he felt his heart burst that moment

✎ . . . .   random thought of mine but: FOREHEAD KISSES

✎ . . . .   he literally crouches down to your eye-level and then kisses your forehead

✎ . . . .   aHHHh and then after him, you kiss his forehead too

✎ . . . .   cAUSE FOREHEAD KISSES ARE SO INTIMATE IM—

𝘼 𝙏 𝙎 𝙐 𝙈 𝙐

✎ . . . .   everyday is a battle to see who’s more childish!!1!

✎ . . . .   you pout, he pouts

✎ . . . .   an old married couple who argues every moment they can

✎ . . . .   e.g. “pepsi or coca cola”

✎ . . . .   “pepsi is better bITCH”

✎ . . . .   “have you never drank cOCA COLA???”

✎ . . . .   this will go on for more than ten minutes until kita comes

✎ . . . .   “both are not healthy, just drink milk for your bones”

✎ . . . .   “a-AYE SIR!!!1!”

✎ . . . .   moving on!! he’s just like osamu; a sucker for forehead kisses because he can never get enough of it

✎ . . . .   “y/n kiss me!”

✎ . . . .    “no”

✎ . . . .   “why not”

✎ . . . .   “just cause”

✎ . . . .   literally whines at you and goes off to find kita and tell him to order you to kiss him

✎ . . . .   but ofc, when you’re the only two in the room: you pepper him with kisses all over his face

✎ . . . .   when you cuddle, there are times when he’d ask to be the small spoon and since you are so sweEEEet, you let him be

✎ . . . .   for most of the cuddle time, you literally lie on top of him and he goes: uWU

✎ . . . .   you are: his sUNSHINE

✎ . . . .   he can never imagine living with someone who was not you

✎ . . . .   your personality made him whipped like his twin lol so thankful to have someone who would understand him and his childishness