#hermann...so oblivious...

[stellariders]

Kelly's gotten so lucky throughout the years! He's lucky he doesn't have kids scattered throughout chicago. Hermann is the funniest

https://www.tumblr.com/stellariders/757222817444102144?source=share

honestly there could be a little severide running around the world somewhere that kelly is just oblivious to 😂

i love herrmann so much!

[samael-n]

Yay! Ok, buckle up:

Alain/Gilbert Modern AU

-The two were childhood friends, but their parents had a falling out when they were young (competing businesses). Alain was told the reason while Gilbert was told that it was Alain didn't want to be around him anymore. They would play video games and run around together. Alain remembers playing until they'd both be exhausted and Gilbert would fall asleep leaning on him.

-Ilenia ran a successful company and she and Alain grew to be well off. Josef is her best friend/business partner whom she trusts implicitly. She later gets cancer and legally marries Josef so he will be Alain's guardian and next of kin after he swears to take care of and raise Alain. Ilenia's life insurance pays out and Josef is able to raise Alain full time without managing their company, but both he Alain struggle with the transition for a few years. Alain does come to see Josef as his father in time though. Zenoira Corp later buys out both Ilenia and Gilbert's family's companies. No one likes Zenoira Corp. Gilbert is then raised by his Uncle Hermann. This happens around the early teen years.

-They meet again around middle school playing on opposing baseball teams. Alain is the star batter and Gilbert the star pitcher. Gilbert is known as a capable tactician for his team. Alain tries to reach out after games, but Gilbert is still resentful. Lex is on the same team as Alain. Chloe tutors them both ("Take notes Lex!"). Melisandre is on the cheer team.

-Virginia is still Alain's cousin, but goes to the same school as Gilbert, not Alain. Leah is Gilbert's adoptive sibling. Ludwig leaves shortly after their dad dies, and Gilbert feels abandoned by him, despite looking up to him (I haven't gone too deep into their role yet in this AU.

-They all eventually end up at the same high school where Alain is in the same class as Gilbert and works to mend the relationship. They eventually play on the same baseball team and run for student council together with Alain as President and Gilbert as VP. This is bc Alain is rather popular and well-known while Gilbert is the stronger policy maker, which Alain is aware of. They make use of Alain being the figurehead to make positive changes. Rosalinde and Eltolinde are part of the student council.

-Alain plays multiple sports including baseball, basketball, and lacrosse. Gilbert plays baseball, tennis, and chess. It's a good thing Josef isn't needing to work bc his hands are full just getting Alain to all his games. Gilbert has a rougher time balancing everything and has to work part-time as well, so he's constantly a bit burnt out. This results in him passing out around Alain frequently, which reminds him of their childhood days.

-Alain falls first, and Gilbert falls for him gradually in high school, but writes off he chances bc of how popular Alain is and how many girls show interest in him (Gilbert also assumes he's straight, not bi). Things don't change until Alain asks Gilbert to be his date to homecoming mid-way through high school, which goes something like their Ring of the Maiden conversation. "Will you go to homecoming with me?" "What? Can't you get a date to take with you?" "I'm asking YOU to be my date Gilbert." "WUT." Gilbert then overcompensates a bit with dressing nice (think button up and suspenders) and getting a whole bouquet for Alain. Alain thinks it's sweet and pulls him in by the suspenders for a kiss on the porch when he arrives. Alain and Virginia get Homecoming king and queen, much to the entire school's chagrin, so they just give the crowns to their respective dates to make it less awkward.

-Neither one is rly much of a romantic, but they act more like a married couple in that they are less focused on grand gestures and simply make the conscious choice to love each other. The homecoming ask was needed though bc Gilbert is fairly oblivious, but him reciprocating let's both become comfortable to be more openly loving to the other. Virginia despised their pining era, but teases their steady one.

Thanks for reading!

Hi there! Seeing your Alain and Gilbert UO art spawned some modern AU headcanons for me. Would u mind if I shared them with u?

Oh of course, I don’t mind! I’m always itching for some good Alain/Gilbert thoughts 😭

[sunriseverse]

29........

oooooh I like this one :D set post-movie

“My parents asked about you again,” Newt says one morning over breakfast, slathering an unholy amount of Nutella on his pancakes, the heat making the chocolate spread drip onto his fingers.

Hermann peers at him over the paper, scowls at the sight. “Use a napkin, you heathen,” he scolds. “And I wasn’t aware they had asked after me before.”

Newt grins and stuffs the entire pancake into his mouth, making Hermann sniff in disgust. Thankfully, he swallows before speaking. “Yeah, they were like, weirdly insistent about it? I don’t know, man. Monica was asking about, uh, floral arrangements, I think? And Dad said something about “kids these days…”.”

“Mm,” Hermann hums, absentmindedly flicking to the next page. “Well, the only floral arrangements in our life are your quickly-dying cacti.” Newt gasps.

“How dare you! I take good care of them!”

There’s a moment of silence as they both glance towards the windowsill, where three sad, dejected, and browning cacti wilt forlornly in their pots, and Newt scowls. “Well, you try caring for them, why don’t you!”

“I think I shall,” Hermann replies. “And I’ll do a damn better job than you.”

The set of Newt’s jaw reads indignant and stubborn, and he says, “Oh, that’s how you’re gonna play it, huh? Aloof and dark and handsome? Well, two can play that game––you’ll see, in a week my plants will be vibrant.”

“Of course they will,” Hermann smiles. Newt narrows his eyes.

The end of the week does not, as Newt had insisted, see his plants as vibrant. They’re still a bit browned and crisp around the edges, but, by some miracle, they’ve stopped actively dying. “That absolutely does count!” Newt argues that night, pressed against Hermann’s side in the tiny bed. “They are, comparatively speaking, vibrant.”

Hermann sighs. “They are not, Newton, just accept it. And please, for the love of all things holy, go to sleep.” Newt lets out a grumble but settles down slightly, head against Hermann’s shoulder.

It feels…comforting, to have the other this close. Hermann tries not to examine the thought too closely.

-

“I made you a cup of coffee,” Newt says. “Figured you could use it after today.” The unspoken I felt your stress hangs between them, the remnants of the Drift. It’s mostly gone, now, but occasionally, things still slip through.

Hermann accepts the cup gratefully. “Thank you,” he says, and Newt nods. They sit, for a moment, Hermann sipping the bitter drink, silence stretching between them, and Hermann thinks, this is nice.

“Yeah, it is,” Newt mumbles absentmindedly, and Hermann freezes.

“Sorry, what?”

Newt’s gaze snaps to his. “You said…oh, crap, you didn’t say that out loud, did you?” he asks weakly. “Sorry.”

Hermann stares at him for a moment, and thinks, very clearly, how long?

“Haha, um,” Newt glances around, looking for an escape, but Hermann reaches out, grasping his wrist.

“How long?”

Newt stares at the ground intently. “…since the Drift,” he says, guiltily. “I thought you had the same thing?” Hermann fixes him with a glare. “Oh, that’s a no. Okay.”

“Yes, that’s a no, Newton,” Hermann hisses, slightly exasperated. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“Well what was I supposed to say?” He throws up his free hand. “‘Oh Hermann, by the way, I can read your thoughts’? ‘Oh, by the way, I think you’re pretty too’? What was I supposed to say?”

Hermann pauses. “…what are you talking about?”

Newt blinks, taken aback. “…I can read your thoughts?”

“No, the other one!” Hermann snaps.

“You––what? Oh! Wait, I thought you knew that?” Newt stares at him, wide-eyed. “So you kept brushing off my advances because you…didn’t realize I was flirting?”

“No!” Hermann replies hotly.

Newt lets out a huff of laughter. “Dude, I legit call you “honey”, “darling”, “babe”, “handsome”, etcetera every day at least once. I even asked you out for coffee!”

“We graded papers!” Hermann shoots back, attempting to defend himself, and Newt rolls his eyes.

“You are the most oblivious person I’ve ever met,” he sighs. “Hermann, will you go on a date, like as in an “I like-like you will you date me?” date with me?”

Hermann glares. “Yes, but don’t think for one second you’re off the hook about this.”

“I’d never,” Newt grins.

[mr-e-nigma]

Newt puts Tell Me I’m A Wreck in his lab mix because he likes the song and for no other reason but Hermann immediately has Thoughts when it plays the first time

[hermannsthumb]

Adoring Newt and oblivious Hermann is my life blood (is that a phrase?) So a fic of that nature would be very welcome.

Also, your writing is wonderful.

little ficlet!!!! i've been a little stressed irl recently but it's nice to write something fun between longer stuff im working on (and thank you for the compliment!)

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Newt definitely isn't stalking Hermann or anything like that, because that would be weird and creepy, but Hermann's expert-level aloofness and general disinterest in being around Newt in basically any capacity means that Newt has to resort to some very weird levels just to have a normal non-work-related conversation with the guy. He doesn't hold any illusions of the two of them becoming besties or anything like that, but for two people who spend as much time as they do together—which is to say, probably 80% of their waking moments—it kind of sucks they can’t reach some form of companionable ground. Or that they don’t spend the other 20% of that time doing fun stuff. Not that there’s much fun stuff to do around the Shatterdome (or even really the city, since the risk of being squashed by a kaiju is kinda too high to enjoy yourself for any extended length), but they could still put in some effort. Like doing movie nights. They played cards one night after splitting a single Cup Noodles for dinner, but it was a little too hostile to be relaxing. Hermann plays Go Fish like he's out for blood.

Newt’s been putting in plenty of effort to develop their acquaintance-rivalry into more firmly the acquaintance side of things. At the very least shift things into friendly rivals territory. He, like, says good morning to Hermann, and sometimes remembers to do the dishes in the lab sink. Last week he even asked Hermann how his day was going. Hermann ignored him, but it's the thought that counts.

Newt is putting in plenty of effort specifically at this moment, probably more effort than Hermann has even dreamed of. He hopes Hermann sees it like that—oh, look, Newt put in so much effort just to hang out with me before work, how sweet, and then Newt would be like yeah, dude, it’s because I care about getting to know you, and then Hermann would be like this isn’t creepy or stalkerish at all. (When Newt wants a conversation to go well with Hermann, he usually practices in his head first. Winging it can have disastrous consequences. Hermann balks at the first sign of small talk, generally assuming Newt is just trying to ease him into horrific news about some major biohazard event or another Newt’s caused in the lab, which, to be fair, does have some historical basis.) Newt's just a careful observer. Hermann's schedule is like clockwork, just like his own, and it's not that hard to pick up on that. It's not hard to pick up on little things he likes, too, specifically his tea order. And obviously Newt knows where Hermann’s quarters are, though maybe he did have to resort to slightly stalkery methods of following him home after work one night for that.

In a grand effort to get his stuffy lab partner to look at him with anything other than disdain, Newt woke up before dawn today and hauled it downtown to pick up a fancy tea latte (months of careful observation told him that Hermann is a fan of anything prepared with steamed milk and very little sugar) and a cinnamon roll (Hermann looked slightly less grumpy than usual when they served them for dessert in the mess hall two months ago) to surprise him with before work. Unfortunately, waking up before dawn is having disastrous consequences that Newt forgot to take into account when he planned this—that is to say, he’s very sleepy, and Hermann doesn’t show any sign of leaving his room any time soon. Newt didn’t account for the guy’s apparent need for, like, a million hours of beauty sleep.

The hallway outside Hermann's door isn’t exactly comfortable either. Newt shortly graduates from standing at attention to slumping on the ground, leather jacket collar popped up against the blasting A/C as he fights off yawns. He’s fully dozing against the wall (cardboard coffee cup cooling fast in his hand) when Hermann’s door finally swings open. It’s not exactly the nice surprise Newt wanted it to be: instead of looking hot and suave and thoughtful, he startles awake with a small yelp and drops the tea, spilling at least a quarter of it on his jeans before he can fumble it upright, while (looming above him in his doorway) Hermann doesn’t even have the decency to look surprised. “Oh,” he says, looking at Newt over his glasses like Newt’s a weird bug writhing around in the dirt. “It’s you. I thought I heard someone snoring.”

“Good morning,” Newt yawns out. He scrambles to his feet, the brown pastry bag crinkling in his sweaty palm, and smooths his hair back as best as he can. His impromptu nap against the wall messed up the gel he uses for his very hot and sexy styling and he’s definitely rocking more of a bedhead look right now, especially compared to Hermann’s tragically offensive but immaculately combed bowlcut. Maybe Hermann will think it’s a cute look for him. He flattens the back of hair down again, but the gel-stiff strands stubbornly refuse to obey. Hopefully Hermann will think it’s a cute look. Newt wants Hermann to think he looks cute so, so bad, and it’s unfair that Hermann can get away with the reverse so effortlessly. “You, um, you slept in, huh?”

Hermann casts a pointed look at the dinged-up analog wristwatch peeking out from the sleeve of his tweed blazer. “It’s seven in the morning,” he says. “I wake up at precisely the same time every single day. You ought to try it. You didn’t sleep here all night, did you?” Newt has just a second to think about how sweet it is that Hermann cares about him getting proper rest when he makes a face at Newt and adds, “I don’t want anyone getting any wrong sorts of ideas about us.”

“No, no,” Newt says quickly. Seven in the morning? That’s news to him. Admittedly he was a little overeager about this all, which would explain the weird looks the baristas gave him down at the café—he must’ve gotten there, like, milliseconds after they opened. “I’ve been here for like, five minutes. I got you breakfast!”

He thrusts out the tea and cinnamon roll, startling Hermann backwards against his door with a small thump. Hermann eyes the offering skeptically. “You…what?” he says.

“Breakfast? I just thought we could, like, hang out a little before work,” Newt says. He gives the bag a pathetic little shake. “Maybe take a walk or something?” Hermann makes him feel like a dumb, nervous teenager without even trying, like a simple request to chill as bros is on the same level as asking him to prom or proposing or something. He’s just so—pointy and lanky. In a hot way. And he has pretty eyes and pretty eyelashes, and when he scowls and bitches at Newt, it makes Newt’s heart spin circles around itself, and maybe sometimes he deliberately picks fights just to get the guy’s laser-beam focus turned on him like a sniper rifle. He feels like a lost puppy around Hermann, desperate for the slightest bit of attention. You put in so much effort, Newton, how very charming of you!

“No thank you,” Hermann says.

He sets off in the direction of the lab. Newt blinks, his heart sinking, and then scurries after him. “C’mon, man, at least take the tea,” he says. “I spent, like, eight bucks on it.” He asked the baristas to make a little heart in the foam (alluding to the definitely real maybe-boyfriend he was buying the drink for), but he realizes that Hermann won’t actually be able to see it unless Newt very heavily hints he should definitely take the lid off for, um, some reason. Also, Newt probably fucked the heart up anyway when he spilled it all over his pants. He lifts the white plastic up a centimeter and confirms his suspicions: the little latte art heart has been transformed into what Newt would generously call a blob. He tipped 60% for that blob.

“I didn’t ask you to,” Hermann says. Then he frowns at Newt over his shoulder. “Actually, Newton—why did you?”

“I,” Newt squeaks, just a little, and then stammers out incoherently, “I was—I wanted a coffee, so—I was already there, downtown I mean, at the coffeeshop and I thought you might want something. From the coffeeshop. The pastries looked good too. I thought we could split one. You like—cinnamon rolls?” He struggles to click the plastic lid back on the cup with his thumb, sloshing more tea down his front. “Ugh.”

“You’re making a mess of yourself,” Hermann sighs, “as usual. Well, Newton, I do appreciate the thought, though I admit I’m not particularly hungry right now. I suppose I wouldn’t mind a tea. Thank you.” He sounds strained when he says it, but he gives Newt a tight smile and accepts the cup at last. His fingers brush against Newt’s; Newt inhales shakily, and Hermann’s elegant eyelashes give a little flutter. Go to prom with me, Hermann, Newt thinks.

“R-right,” he says.

[kiss-seokjin]

Joke (RM Joke Spinoff)

Synopsis: The ‘mad’ wolf hybrid Kim Namjoon breaks out of his imprisonment in an asylum and lucky you, he’s now living in your house!

Pairing: wolf hybrid Namjoon x human reader

Word count: 7,545

Pairing: 18+

Warnings: Smut

Smut warnings: reader and Namjoon are actually kinky, foreplay, oral sex (both receiving), penetration, no protection

AO3 link

Wattpad link

---

You close your laptop, sighing as you stand up and stretch after a long day of zoom classes for college. Feeling antsy after sitting for so long you Put in your earbuds and play music from your phone as you step outside for fresh air.

There is a grassy yard with a small pond, stream, and flowers in the yard, but beyond that, there is a forest that expands as far as the eye can see along the mountains that you are in. Ever since COVID-19 happened you have been taking online university on and off from the family home in Korea. There is a town close by, it is only a twenty or thirty minute car ride away, though due to living in the mountains you cannot see it from your home. But on a positive note it makes it easy to get groceries and supplies on your weekly trip from your safe space.

Since you cannot see your friends in person these days, and also considering you are in the mountains, you have a weekly chat with them during your free time to catch up with one another and to fill the void of not being able to socialize any more. You truly miss them but you know things will go back to normal someday. At least you hope so.

After relaxing to a few songs while admiring the view you go back inside to make your dinner. Shutting the sliding glass door behind you contemplating locking it. You do live far out in the woods so it is highly unlikely someone will break in, and besides, even if they did, they could just throw a rock through the window, so either way they could easily break in. You end up leaving it unlocked for tonight, deciding to forget about it over dinner.

While you let the ramen cook you take the chance to water some of your plants which include some bonsai trees, a rose bush, and an orchid. After the ramen finishes, you let it cool down before putting some in a bowl to enjoy. You scroll through your phone as you eat your meal, as it is one of your only visual as to what is going on out in the world these days.

After dinner, you sit down to read some of the book Damian by Hermann Hesse. You are very intrigued by the book so you have already read it a few times. You sit curled up on the couch with a blanket and some tea, one that doesn't have any caffeine in it since you want a good nights rest and not insomnia. After a long day of classes, you definitely needed some of the activities you did this evening. Maybe tomorrow you will go on a bike ride or drive your car when there is some time.

About an hour and a half of reading later, you mark where you have stopped in the book and put the book back on its shelf and turn off the lights before going upstairs to get some pajamas so you can shower. You won't be back down anyways so it is better to turn the lights off now.

A nice warm shower definitely will make this evening complete. Just thinking about it makes you want to take a self care day so you can have a long shower or bath, do a face mask, use hand and feet cremes or do a mani-pedi, paint your nails, listen to music, enjoy nature, read, and sip on some coffee, chai, or tea.

Turning on the water, you enjoy the warmth of the water as it comforts you in your temporary confinement at home. It is something that is oddly comforting these days. You used to take it for granted.

As you are taking a shower, you are completely oblivious to the stranger entering into your house, as he is of you at first.

"Hm, running water?" he asks himself, hearing the water running from the shower upstairs. He had stumbled upon this house and thought it was empty since the lights were off. How foolish of him. He didn't even try to smell or hear it out before entering. But then again who knows how far the nearest town, let alone another house is (or even rarer, an abandoned house), so stumbling upon this one was just his luck. He'll just force whoever is here into letting him stay the night or for how long he needs. It depends on the situation. From what he can smell, there is one person here; a female in her early twenties.

He notices the plants and book shelves, two things that intrigue him, as he has a fondness for such things. He can make out a TV in this living room of yours, and after a brief moment of thought, finds the remote and turns it on, soon figuring out how to get to the local news channel. He finds that he has already made the news today, and it won't surprise him if other news channels begin to cover him as well since he is such a well known name among the hybrid world, as well as to the Korean government.

"The werewolf, also known as Kim Namjoon, has escaped from the nearby asylum he was being held in today" says the reporter. "We do not know much about the situation, but from what has been released so far, it is believed he severely injured his guards and escaped wearing one of their uniforms. As you all may know, Kim Namjoon is an insane and powerful wolf hybrid, a type of hybrid that is very rare. He has been nicknamed werewolf for his ability to transfer from wolf, hybrid, and human state, and two years ago while working as a servant for the president, he had secretly been the eyes and ears for a resistance he was building up for hybrid rights. One evening he took out a premeditated attacked the president, nearly killing him in the process. Kim Namjoon was deemed insane and was sent off to an asylum and the president and vice president struck down on hybrids laws, making the old ones tighter and new ones that put on more restrictions then there was before. The resistance he had build up has dwindled with many leaving, getting disconnected, or being arrested. If you see Kim Namjoon, the man on the screen, please call the police immediately. Do not make contact with this man. Lock your doors and windows. Make sure he can't break into your house in any way, because any encounter could involve someone getting injured or killed."

Liars. He is not a blood thirsty madman. Has this really become his public image? He wanted justice and equality, not for hybrids to be put through more oppression than they already were. Hell, other places like the United States and the European Union have already greatly improved upon hybrid rights, but somehow East Asia is late to the party. Very late. He tried working along side the LGBTQ+ community in the country, but he doubts that even if he manages to start up a resistance again that they would want to help. If they want to do things peacefully, only for their voices to be ignored, then fine. He will actually make sure there is equality once he and his allies come to power. If he can get to them.

As you get out of the shower, you hear the TV from downstairs is clearly on. And you definitely didn't have it on today. You quickly put on your pajamas and rush to your room to grab a pepper spray. You quietly make your way down the stair hoping you can pepper spray whoever has come into your house. As you get near the bottom, a voice calls out.

"I'm afraid your plan of attack has already failed" says a male voice, right before he turns on the a light. He is a tall man with clear dimples, a flatish nose, and you can make out a slight widows peak, despite he cap he is wearing. He is wearing some type on uniform, though it is all messy. "I heard you turn off the water, as well as every foot step and tip toe you took. And I saw you coming down the stairs."

"B-but how?" you bring yourself to ask, not even a 'who are you' or 'why are you in my home'. You were being as quiet as you could, and with how dark the majority of the house is at this point besides your bedroom, you have to wonder how he even saw you when you could make out very little in the dark.

He man takes off the cap to reveal two animal ears, most similar to a dog or wolf. He's a hybrid. As you are piecing it all together, you hear something from the TV in the next room.

"As a reminder for this evening, beware of Kim Namjoon, the insane wolf hybrid who escaped from the nearly asylum. Call the police right away if you see him and keep your distance. Please stay safe."

You remember hearing this name a couple years ago and vaguely remember what he looks like. Tall, has dimples, has a flatish nose, and has a slight widows peak. It's him. The man in your house is him. You scream and run up the stairs, hoping you can make it to your phone to call the police, but he is faster and stronger than you, so he catches you and pins you against the wall.

"I won't hurt you unless I need to" he says. "I just need a place to stay for a bit and for you to not report me to the police and I won't hurt or bother you."

"But you're an insane criminal" you reply. "You tried to kill the president."

"That's what they want you to think. I was set up since they didn't like the power and attention I was getting. While I did have informants, I never worked under the president. I just want justice and equality, but none of those assholes in government seem to care about the rights of some citizens. You're lucky not to not be a hybrid, because you know what it feels like to be treated with respect. I can't vote or run for government, hell I could barely take a walk or bike ride down the street without receiving a glare from every other person, and just to buy a car or to get a loan in so damn hard, near impossible... Just please, let me stay and don't turn me over so I can finish what I started."

Something about this touches you. You care deeply about politics, the environment, and equality, so naturally you support hybrid rights, but from what you know the way this man has gone about getting the message across has caused more problems than solutions. But that all could have been false. You don't know anymore. You can't always trust the media. Hell, you don't know if you completely trust him either, but judging by his behavior, he doesn't seem like the type to harm people unless he needs too and he seems to be pretty genuine in most if not all of what he is saying. This causes you to think of something.

"As long as you are willing to peacefully protest and advocate I'll let you stay" you say. "And clear your name, if you can."

"Of course... I take this you won't turn me in and I can stay here?"

You nod.

"For now" you say.

"Well, if that's the case, can you provide me with some clean clothes and direct me in the direction of the shower? I need to clean myself off."

You are able to find some clothing that fits him and you show him to the shower.

"By the way, you can sleep on the guests bed room" you say before he shuts the door. "It is the one next to my bedroom over there."

"Alright" he says.

You head back to your room and can't help but think about how funny it was to see his tail stuffed into the pants he was wearing. It was ready to pop out at any moment. It makes you wonder how he will be able to fit it into the pants you gave him.

You get on into bed, grabbing your phone to scroll through it for a while to refresh yourself with Namjoon and his past, realizing he can easily make himself look human. How extra was he just to want to show you his ears?

From what you remember from biology class, a rare set of humans evolved to have animal traits, those being hybrids. Some got more useful skills while others got ones that were rather useless. Some even had rare traits such as Namjoon. After hybrids went through several atrocities they were given freedom, but they often still face discrimination in the eyes of others and in the law, especially in East Asia. It can be bad in the west too, but there aren't nearly as many laws against them that are so blatantly obvious.

About twenty minutes later you hear a knock on the door and Namjoon comes through, his wolf ears now gone.

"Anyways I just came into say goodnight" says Namjoon.

"Goodnight" you reply.

"And thanks once again" says Namjoon before he closes the door. He is much more polite than you thought he would be is what you think to yourself before you put your phone up to charge for the night.

The next morning you wake up to the sound of knocking on the front door. Who would be here so early that your alarm for nine AM hasn't even gone off yet? You reluctantly get out of bed to make your way downstairs. When you open your bedroom door you see Namjoon is near the top of the stairs.

"Stay here" you say. "It isn't safe for you to be seen."

You go downstairs to open the door to none other than two cops.

"Good morning ma'am" says one officer. "I am officer Choi and this is officer Jang. We are doing a check up on the area do to the possibility of a highly dangerous criminal being in the area."

"Do you mean Kim Namjoon?" you ask. You know the answer but you felt the need to ask. "I saw it last night on the news."

"Yes" says officer Choi. "We are just doing a check up to make sure everyone is safe and to see if there have been any possible sightings."

"Well I'm safe and I haven't seen anything" you half lie. You don't entirely trust Namjoon yet but you trust him enough to know he is unlikely going to hurt you unless he finds it necessary. And as far as these cops are considered you haven't seen Namjoon.

"If that's all I hope you have a good rest of your day ma'am" says officer Choi before he turns to leave with officer Jang following from behind.

You shut the door and turn around, only to see Namjoon in his full wolf form.

"Really," you say. "I had it handled."

He simply turns around and makes his way up the stairs. You roll your eyes and follow him.

"I'm going to make breakfast soon" you say. "If there's anything you want you can just tell me."

As you finish saying that, you turn at the top of the stairs to see Namjoon shamelessly changing into the close he had on the night before in the middle of the hall. You panic and turn around, hoping not to see anything you don't need to.

"Why are you changing?" you ask.

"I can't wear clothing when I go into wolf form" he says casually, as if you didn't nearly see things you really didn't want to see. "It just makes it awkward and I get stuck sometimes so I chance from human to wolf and vise versa without clothing on."

"Well next time change in a more private place please" you say. "I don't want to see you naked."

"Whatever. Make whatever you want. I'm not much of a breakfast person. Though a coffee would be nice."

You go throughout your day as normal. You have your classes online in your bedroom for privacy as Namjoon is doing who knows what. Once classes are done, you decide that maybe you can go out shopping for food tomorrow.

You head downstairs to see Namjoon reading a book. He looks up when he hears you coming down and shuts the book.

"You were awfully quiet today" he comments.

"I had online classes" you respond.

"Online classes?"

"Do you really not know?"

"Know what?"

"Namjoon... We are in the middle of a global pandemic."

He looks at you in shock.

"A... Pandemic?"

"Yes. Covid-19. Some people just call it Carona."

"Like the beer?"

"Yeah, like the beer."

"That's... A lot."

"Tell me about it. I'm sick of the pandemic. Everyone is. But we just have to wait it out. We've been in and out of quarantining for a while now. Whenever they begin to lift stuff cases always begin to spike again at some point."

"For how long has this been happening?"

"Since around March of 2020."

"And the date is?" You check your phone and tell him the date. "Wow that is a while."

"Yup..."

There is an awkward silence for a moment before Namjoon speaks up.

"Anyways I noticed you have a bike. I'm wondering if I can borrow it? I love riding bikes."

"Sure."

Before you know it Namjoon is out the door to go bike riding. He won't go too far so he won't be spotted, but you know he'll be back soon. That is when you remember your zoom meeting with your friends.

You quickly rush to log on. Your friends had already started since you were running late, and you all catch up with one another on life. One's boyfriend broke up with them, another lost their uncle to covid, and one make strawberry milk from scratch. Soon you here Namjoon enter your house, but fortunately your friends did not here it through zoom.

Once you hang up, you go downstairs you see Namjoon reading the same book he was reading earlier.

"Your friends?" he asks.

"Yeah" you reply. "It is kinda a weekly thing... Just wondering, now that you're out of the asylum, what are you going to do now?"

"Start a hybrid movement somehow. I don't know how, seeing as there are more regulations than before, but we must try."

"Well, the first place to start is trying to find some old supporters here and then seek international help. Oh and clearing your name."

"The only way I can clear my name is by proving that the president and his colleagues plotted against me and paid off the asylum to keep me there. And where would we begin to find followers? I don't know if there are secret connections still or if everyone is cut off or what."

"I wish I could be a greater help on that end, but I'm not exactly involved with things like that."

He chuckles in response.

"Anyways, I really want some samgyupsal and black been noodles. I haven't had those in so long. If it's possible for you to get them I would be grateful."

"Sure, I can order some for dinner" you reply, trusting him some more.

The next day you drive down to the town to go grocery shopping. As you are leaving the store, two hybrids pass you, a rabbit hybrid and a cat hybrid. You don't take much notice to them at first, but they both start sniffing in your direction, which you found strange.

"Excuse me ma'am" says the cat hybrid. "We are wondering if you have spotted any wolfs in the area?"

"Umm" you say, very confused.

"Have you perhaps run into a wolf recently?" asks the rabbit hybrid.

Suddenly the the pieces snap into place. They are talking about Namjoon.

"We are looking for a friend" says the cat hybrid. "A former colleague."

"Come with me" you reply. You lead them to your car, where you offload your groceries before you instructed them to get into your car. "What do you want with Namjoon?"

"We were friends of his" says the rabbit hybrid. "In the movement. Before he was taken away."

"I'm Min Yoongi" says the cat hybrid. "And this is Jeon Jungkook. When we heard he escaped we came searching for him. We were planning another movement in secret, and we could really use his help."

"Well he did say he wanted to start another movement" you say. "But you need to be careful, he's wanted. I don't mind letting him stay at my place for safety for now and helping the movement, but I don't want involvement on my record if the police arrest you all. I can't ruin my chances of success at becoming a politician or a political reporter."

"We get it" says Jungkook. "Being and supporting hybrids is a dangerous thing as of late. It can be hard to support in the shadows while trying to be successful in other areas of life."

"Don't get me started on that" says Yoongi. "Just having that you supported the previous movement on your record makes things so much harder, especially for us hybrids. "We had three security checks on the way here. Three."

"That's awful" you reply. At least they understood your worries and you felt sympathy for them. They don't deserve that kind of treatment for simply being different. "I can help you meet up with Namjoon if I can have your numbers."

You all trade numbers before they leave.

You get back home and Namjoon helps you unload the groceries. As you do you tell him about Jungkook and Yoongi.

"That's great!" he says. "Let's meet as soon as possible."

A few days later, Jungkook and Yoongi are at your house to have their first meeting with Namjoon. You had classes so you couldn't be present, but Namjoon filled you in when you were done.

"So they were planning stuff in a small group, but they are going to expand it so there can be a whole protest" he says. "We will make sure to get some international people involved. Hell, make it a whole peaceful protest with performers like idol groups and American singers for all I care. The more media attention the better. They do have some connections inside the government that could help clear my name, but it could take time. Those friends could even help put in a good word in other governments to get them on our side."

"That's great!" you say, patting him on the arm. "Let's drink some beer for that."

You both drink beer to celebrate the long road ahead to not only for hybrid equality but for clearing Namjoon's name. You fully trust him now.

"You know" you say. "I actually really like having you here for company... It's nice."

"Really?" Namjoon replies. "... It's nice to be out of the asylum. I may still be wanted, but at least I have some freedom now and... and that I am actually treated with kindness after so long."

You stare at him with caring eyes.

"You have my full support Namjoon."

"And you have mine."

You both glance away, taking a sip of your beers. Something felt different. Unknown to both of you, you had a slight blush, partly from the alcohol and partly from each other.

A few weeks go by, and in that time Jungkook, Yoongi, and Namjoon had more meetings. You were sometime present and sometimes you were working on university stuff.

As the sun sets, Namjoon feels stressed and unsure of what to do with himself. He knew this day would come, and it wouldn't be like last time since he actually took the meds for this. He watches the full moon slowly come out, and he can feel the power it brings him. But he can also feel the lust. The beginning of his heat. His damn once a month heat on the full moon. He wishes he grabbed some heat meds before he broke out, but he didn't, so he needs to find some relief. And fast.

As you both sit on the couch, you sipping on your tea with your earbuds in and him holding a book, trying to his that he has a hard on, he contemplates whether he should tell you or relief himself in the bathroom.

He heads to the bathroom, opting for the second option, not wanting to involve you, but when he jacks off, it doesn't bring the relief he needs or desires. He pumps harder and faster, trying to satisfy himself, but instead ends up having his first pathetic orgasm of the night. He can't spend the rest of the night like this. It will be pure misery. He'll have to ask you for help.

Awkwardly, he walks out of the bathroom and sits besides you. You still have your earbuds in, so you fortunately didn't hear anything from the bathroom. He taps your shoulder and you take out your earbuds.

"Hmm?" you hum softly.

"I have something to tell you" Namjoon says. "It's serious."

"What is it?"

"Once a month... On the full moon... I get stronger."

"Like the way how you broke out last month."

"Yeah. Exactly. But last month, even though I didn't take the meds for my strength, I did take it for something else, something that also happens during the full moon for me, but because I don't have those meds now, I am wondering if you... If you could help me fix it."

"Which is?"

"I'm in my heat."

There is a pause of silence as you are taking this information in. After a silence that felt like forever, you climb on top of him, straddling him as you place your hands on his shoulders.

"I'll help" you say. "Tell me what you need."

"M-maybe we can just g-grind for now" Namjoon says nervously but with anticipation.

You press into his bulge, feeling that he already has a hard on. You grind your hips into his, and soon enough he begins grinding back. With ups and downs and side to sides, you feel yourself loosening up and loosing yourself in the moment. You could actually enjoy tonight.

"Harder" says Namjoon. "Grind harder."

You do as he wishes, grinding him even harder. Any doubts you had before are now gone as you are in a fever of lust. Feeling his clothed member prod your clit is driving you crazy. You whimper a little. Without thinking, you go and kiss him in the heat of the moment. When you feel his lips pressing back, you passionately kiss him as you continue to grind. He opens your mouth and sticks his tongue inside. His thick lips and his clothed cock are driving you crazy.

"Hmm" he moans into the kiss before pulling away. "It's not good enough."

You pause for a moment, before climbing off of him.

"Lie down" you command, which he follows.

You slowly take off your pants and underwear, revealing your wet pussy to him. He feels himself grow even harder at the sight of your precum dripping down your thighs. You walk on over and place your pussy above his face before reaching down towards his pants.It is getting tight in there. Even you can see that.

You unzip his pants and push his underwear back, revealing his cock, which was bigger than you expected, making you excited. You lower your pussy on his face as you message his dick and balls, before lowering down and giving his member a long lick before wrapping your mouth around it, taking it in as far as your mouth would let you.

Namjoon sucks at your pussy as he puts is hands on your waist. He puts his tongue out, licking around your pussy and taking your juices before moving it up and down and side to side.

You bob your head up and down, feeling Namjoon's member roughly hit the back of your throat. Your tongue licks around him as your hands work hard on his balls and the base of his dick. It is a wonder you got as much as you did in your mouth.

You moan some when you feel Namjoon's tongue begin to penetrate inside you. He licks around and comes in and out. You can feel the heat building inside you as you do not have much longer.

You sway your hips on his face some as he digs his fingers into your sides as he moans into you, which makes you break. You cum all of over his face, causing Namjoon to begin to eagerly lick and suck on your juices.

With you cumming on him his member begins to twitch in your mouth and a few moments later he also cums. You swallow as much of his cum as you can, though due to his big and long cock some leaks out onto your face, dipping off of you.

When you are done swallowing his fluids, you slowly remove your mouth off of his cock. Namjoon spends a few more moments licking up your juices. When he is done, you remove your pussy off of him and slide onto the floor.

"That was amazing" you say. Definitely the best oral sex you have ever had. It makes you wonder what fucking him is like. Just the thought of you to being intimate like that together begins to turn you on again.

"I'm grateful for your help" says Namjoon as he slowly sits up. "It means a lot."

A couple minutes of silence later, Namjoon speaks again.

"I can feel another one coming again."

You stand up, your legs a bit wobbly from your first round. You reach out your hand, which he takes as you pull him up. You kiss him passionately.

"Touch me" you say softly. "Please."

Namjoon slowly reaches down and touches your clit. He rubs it in circles and back and forth, causing you to get a little wet.

"Harder" you demand.

He presses his finger harder into you, before sliding it into you, causing you to moan. He begins to pump his one digit into you before slowly adding a second. His spare hand slides into your shirt and into your bra, caressing and groping your breast. You help him out by sliding your shirt and bra off, becoming fully naked. You reach over and slide his pants and underwear down to his ankles, causing him to slip out of them.

He pulls his fingers out of you, causing you to whimper as he sucks your juices off of them.

"Hmm" he moans as he licks his fingers clean. "You're wet enough now, correct?"

"Yes" you squeak as he slides off his shirt, now fully naked like you. You begin to passionately kiss as you wrap your arms around each other. You begin to lead him to your bedroom as his hands search your body. One hand squeezes your ass as his lips begin to trail down your neck.

He pins you against a wall as his lips travel across your chest and shoulders. He leave hickeys all over you. You become bold and begin to kiss his neck, sucking and biting in the process. You leave a hickey on his neck before pulling away, looking at Namjoon, who is now staring down at you.

"Let's take this to the bedroom, shall we?" you say smirking at him.

He kisses you again as you continue to lead him to your bedroom.

When you get there, he pushes you onto the bed, where you plop before setting yourself up on the bed with your legs open, showing your wet pussy on full display.

Namjoon grimaces in lust. Being in heat made this desirable as is, but looking at you now, ready and willing on your bed, made him realize that all this time, he found you more attractive then he'd let himself admit. He secretly would be happy if you two can keep it up beyond this.

"Do you have condoms here?" he asks.

"Nope" you reply. "And I'm not on birth control either. We just gotta hope for the best."

Feeling his heat going crazy, Namjoon climbs on the bed and over you, placing his hands on either side of you as you wrap your arms around hims back, spreading your legs. You can feel his cock at the entrance of your folds, making you go crazy once again.

"Ready?" he asks one more time, giving you enough time to back out. He could always go back to pleasuring himself in the bathroom if worst comes to worst.

"I'm ready" you say to him, with eyes full of lust and passion. He slowly pushes his cock inside of you.

"So tight" Namjoon says as you grit your teeth. You haven't had sex in so long, but you could get used to living a life like this. Hell, you wouldn't mind at all, having sex with Namjoon once a month, maybe even more. You always thought he was attractive, but you never voiced your attraction out loud.

Once he is fully inside you, he lets your pussy adjust to his massive girth. When you feel ready, you give him a nod.

He pulls part way out, before sliding back into you. He is very slow and gentle with you, but you soon desire more.

"Faster. Harder" you demand.

Namjoon begins picking up pace and force until he is slamming his cock into your pussy again and again. There are such lewd sounds and you can feel his cock harshly pounding into you and you love every bit of it. Namjoon loves how perfectly your walls suck his cock. It is like your pussy, your body, or your bodies, were made for each other.

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him even deeper into you. As he rams deeper and harder into you, you look down to watch him slamming in and out of you. To see your pussy swollen with his enormous and long cock. A cock that somehow manages to fit perfectly inside of your pussy. He rams his cock into you again, causing you to moan.

"Moan like a good girl for me and I'll ruin your pussy even more" says Namjoon.

"Y-yes daddy" you moan out. You don't know where that even came from. Namjoon's hand wraps around your neck.

"What did you say?" he says as he chokes you some.

"Yes daddy."

"Do you need to be punished?"

"Yes daddy" you tease again with a smirk on your face. "The handcuffs are in the nightstand by the way."

"You have handcuffs but not condoms. You're wild."

He stops pounding into you as he reaches over to the drawer. His cock is perfectly fit inside of you as you can feel him on your cervix but you could also tell he was far enough in that his hips met yours. You move your hips around to grind his cock, causing him to hiss and cum into you, filling you. Sadly, the orgasm you were building is fading away. Namjoon pulls out the handcuffs and slides his cock out of you when he's done cumming, making you pout.

"I like you in me" you say.

"Oh you will get plenty more of that" Namjoon teases as he cuffs your ankles to the lower bedpost. He then climbs over you and handcuffs your wrists above your head. He then begins making circles around your clit, just like earlier. He kisses your stomach and begins kissing upwards until his face is in between of your breasts.

He moves his mouth over and begins to suck one of your tits as his free hand gropes the other. You feel yourself being turned back on by all of this as you moan Namjoon's name. Namjoon nibbles, licks, and sucks at your tit as he removes his hand from your clit and moves his cock over, teasing your folds. You whimper, wanting him to fuck you into oblivion. He removes his mouth from your tit with a pop and sucks his finger to taste your precum mixed with his cum which was dripping out of your pussy. He puts his hands on your waist as he moves up to have is face above yours.

"Are you ready do be a good girl so I can ruin you?" Namjoon asks as he teases your pussy with his cock some more.

"Yes daddy" you tease, causing Namjoon to ram his cock deep into you, causing you both to moan.

Namjoon doesn't wait in going hard and fast and he rams his cock repeatedly into you, harder and faster then before. He is like a wild animal that was let loose. He pounds into you as you feel your cervix being abused by his cock. You will definitely feel this tomorrow. A lot. You are screaming and moaning in pleasure at this point as Namjoon lets out some moans and sighs.

He is falling even more in love with this, felling your pussy wrap around him perfectly, hearing your screams and moans, and seeing your tits bounce with every harsh thrust into you. To see you chained up and giving your body to him. He sloppily kisses you, loving the way you taste. He kisses your neck and chest and leaves even more hickeys then before. Everything about you is beautiful.

You are wondering how you haven't ever had sex like this in your life. You are liking Namjoon more and more throughout this entire experience. Namjoon cums into you again, filling your pussy with even more of him. It is a wonder you can fit it all, he continues to thrust until he is done cumming and then he pull out.

"Hey! What the hell?" you exclaim. "I want to cum too!"

"Oh sweety" Namjoon says. "We need to keep this up all night. That's how long my heat will last. I can't have your pussy too sensitive to be fucked after a few rounds of cumming. I want to make this last as long as I can."

"But can you let me orgasm. Please."

"Eventually."

He said it in a teasing tone with a smirk on his face. You role your eyes and look away.

You look over at the clock on your nightstand. 2:00 AM.

"Let's get fucking then" you say.

Namjoon removes the handcuffs from you and puts them back in the nightstand drawer.

"Get on your stomach" Namjoon demands. You roll over onto your stomach. Namjoon hoists your waist up so that you are on your knees and elbows with your head in the pillow. He wants to angle you just right. To see it as he fucks you. He looks over at the long mirror on wall. You look over there as well as he pushes himself back into you.

He begins to thrust again as you feel your face being pushed into the pillow so you add some resistance in your elbows. Your a bit sensitive at this point but you don't care. You just want to help Namjoon through his heat and have some fun along the way. The pain will go away soon.

Namjoon is pounding into you and can see everything. How beautiful your pussy looks taking his long and large cock that he is ramming hard and fast into you. You both like sex this way. This isn't Namjoon's first time having sex, and surely isn't his first time having sex over heat, but this is the best sex he has had so far.

You continue looking at yourself in the mirror and watch Namjoon ramming in and out of you.

"It's beautiful eh" Namjoon says as he pumps his cock harder and faster into you. "Imagine how much I could ruin you and your pussy if we did this more often."

"Well ruin me" you say. "I want you to ruin me."

Namjoon slaps your ass when he hears that.

"Are you going to be a good girl or do I need to punish you again?"

"Punish me daddy" you say in a teasing voice to edge him on, knowing the word 'daddy' is his trigger word.

He slaps your ass again. And again. And again. All the while as he is pounding into you. You moan at his actions as it is building up heat inside of you. When he bends over and begins to bite your shoulder, it is the last straw for you.

You let out a long scream and begin cumming around his cock. You moan and scream his name several times as he is pounding you through your orgasm. With your pussy tightened around his cock and having you cum on him, it doesn't take long for him to cum into you for the third time. He continues ramming into you until the end of both your orgasms. He pulls out again and falls right next to you.

"That was amazing" you say as you roll onto your back, looking at the clock. 4:15 AM. You still have a few more hours. You spend a few minutes catching your breath on the bed, with the only noise being your breathing. "I call being the top this time."

"Aw common Y/N" says Namjoon. "I like being the top."

"Well maybe I can make you like being a bottom as well."

Before you know it, you are sliding down on Namjoon's cock, watching his lewd facial expressions. You grind into him to make him whimper and moan. You look down to see yourself swollen with his cock yet again. His cock tickles your cervix as you grind into him and you moan. You were always rather vocal during sex.

"Why don't you be a good boy this time and let the lady take the drivers seat" you tease as you lean over and put one hand on either side of his shoulders as he wraps hands around your waist.

You begin to move your hips up and down, feeling his cock slide in and out of you. It hurts some but soon the lust takes back over and the pain goes away.

Namjoon soon eases up after the sudden switch and begins to enjoy you pounding your pussy around his cock. His hands grip your sides as you move your hips up and down. Like Namjoon, you are going hard and fast  with lust in your eyes. You sloppily kiss him before moving to his neck, where you leave hickeys all over his neck and chest.

Namjoon begins to push back up into you, turning you on even more.

"Common Joon, you can do me harder than that" you challenge him.

He begins pounding up into you as you are pounding down on him and soon enough he is cumming into you for the fourth time and you help fuck him through it. Quickly after he begins cumming into you, you are cumming around him for the second time of the night. You both fuck each other through it, and when you are done, you collapse on his chest, too tired to pull yourself off his cock and role off.

You look out the window and see the sun is beginning to rise.

"We did it Namjoon" you say as you lay on his muscular chest. "We got you through your heat... I actually didn't mind going raw. I actually prefer it raw."

"Really?" Namjoon replies. "I prefer it raw too." Namjoon lets out a small laugh. "And to be honest with you, that was easily the best sex I ever had."

"Me to Joon. Me too. I wouldn't mind helping next month. And the month after that. And for however long you need me."

"Honestly... After all that... After this month, I don't know if I want you to leave my side."

"What are you saying?"

"I... I like you a lot Y/N. Like a lot. I think I'm getting feelings for you to be honest."

"Really? I like you too Namjoon. I like you a lot too. But... I'm not ready for a relationship right now. My last one ended a few months ago so I'm not ready for another one, but I am open to the idea."

"Lets leave the option open. We can be fuck buddies. Friends with benefits. Whatever, until we figure this out."

"Sounds like a plan" you say, looking up at his face to see his wolf ears are back. You can feel his tail fur poking at your leg. You're definitely too tired to go to your online classes. You just had sex all night. It makes you think of 34+35 by Ariana Grande. And also her song Positions.

Secretly, you both hope you aren't going to be pregnant after this.

[anotheronechicagobog]

Fire Meets Fate - Brettsey - Chapter 1 - Violet Opens Her Big Mouth

warnings: swearing, mature themes, character death (Andy Darden), canon compliant tragedy

Summary: Violet Casey, Matt's favourite (and only) niece points out what Matt had been so blind to; Gabby Dawson has the hots for him. While he is engaged. While Matt is most definitely... Shocked at this news, he is in no way pleased. As a result, they never get together.

“I don’t like Gabby.”

“What? Why not, you’re always talking about how much you like her food.”

“Yeah, her food’s amazing- she isn’t.”

“Violet, why would you think that?”

“And that is why I’m bringing it up, you, uncle lieutenant, are oblivious. Gabby has the hots for you.”

“She does not.”

“Yes, she does! Ask anyone, ask uncle Kelly, ask Hallie, ask Gabby.”

“We’re friends and friends alone, Gabby does not love me.”

“I didn’t say ‘love’, I said that she has the hots for you, which is totally different. If she loved you she wouldn’t flirt with you every chance she got, including whenever you and Hallie are on a break.”

“She doesn’t-”

“Flirt with you? Yes, she does. She also makes puppy dog eyes at you and bites her lip whenever you’re not looking. Look, I’m not telling you that she’s not nice, or that you shouldn’t be friends with her, it’s just that I’ve noticed she likes you more than she should, and that sometimes her ‘friendship’ has an ulterior motive.”

“Violet-”

“Just keep it in mind, okay uncle Matt?”

And he did.

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You know how when you start learning to drive, and all the bad driving habits people had, like rolling stops, were pointed out to you? And how once the blinders were ripped off, you couldn’t unsee anything? Well finding out Gabby ‘has the hots’ for him had the same effect. Suddenly he couldn’t hold eye contact with her because he saw longing and lust beneath them, he heard the lengthy pauses and felt the weight of her gaze when anyone asked her about her love life, and whenever she spoke to him he noticed hidden and double meanings in her words. Honestly, it made him a little uncomfortable. And his niece was right, he was completely oblivious! So. Damn. Oblivious. But at first he thought that he was just seeing things, I mean, Violet was fourteen what did she know about non-platonic relationships. Wait... What did she know about non-platonic relationships?! She’s only fourteen! Casey’s horror-filled internal realizations were interrupted by Severide. The man who was once one of his best friends now seemed more like a mortal enemy. Picking fights. Doubting his decision. Second-guessing his judgment. Snide comments. Matt had truly forgotten just how sharp Kelly’s tongue was until they weren’t on the same side anymore. “What did you and Heather talk about at the barbeque?”

“Just about Andy and Griffin. Whenever someone asks, she says they’re holding up as well as can be expected, but I think there’s more going on that she’s not seeing yet because she’s still grieving too.”

“Well, maybe if Heather actually brought the boys around here, or me. There wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Okay, you know what? I’m done. I have tried to talk to Heather about bringing the boys here, about letting them see you, you think I haven’t? But she’s hurting and she blames you. I’ve tried talking her down, and I know that Andy’s death isn’t either of our faults, but I can’t control someone else’s emotions. So stop baring your teeth at me over it. I have tried, and failed, and I am tired, okay? I lost my two best friends in one day! And one of them is actually here, and alive, and safe but growls at me every time I walk near him!”

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In a blue tank top, jeans, and wedges, Gabby approached Matt in the locker room. “My brother called me...” Of course he did. If Matt had felt like he had any other trustworthy officers to turn to, he wouldn’t have asked Gabby to contact her brother. Nothing stays secret between those two. And this was something that only added to the feeling of centipedes marching up and down his spine. He didn’t want her to know about his private life before he did, he didn’t want her in the loop. He normally had no issue with criticism so long as it was based in merit and not bias. And lately he couldn’t help but feel that Violet was right about Gabby and ulterior motives.

“... You holding up alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Good.” With a quick nod to her, he left. No long looks, no asking her what she would have done, no ‘honest answers’, no soulful eyes or parted lips, he didn’t want anymore personal, intimate, talks between them anymore. She may just be a friend to him, but he wasn’t just a friend to her, and he didn’t know how to handle that situation just yet. 

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Matt walked towards the kitchen, ready to get some breakfast and coffee after all the paperwork he had to do before eight in the morning. He winced internally when he saw Gabby crossing the room with arms full of Halloween candy packages. Even just looking at her now set him on edge. He didn’t have confirmation about Violet was right, but as time went on, her actions and her words and her body language, both past and present, were glaring confirmations. He did his best to blend into the background, fade into the noise of the firehouse, and it worked. Mills was getting more and more frustrated that they only had salt and pepper for spices, but then Gabby, still on the counter from putting the candy up high, laid her hand on his shoulder, and told him where she kept the spices she uses when she cooks. “... I used up the rest of the saffron the last time I cooked.” While Gabby didn’t look back at Mills as she walked away, burning a hole inside of Matt’s head instead, the candidate’s eyes followed her form as she walked away, amazement on playing on his features. Matt smiled, maybe her love of cooking would bring her and Mills together.

And then the bells went off.

Once on the scene, Casey was brought back to a phone call he had early in the morning with Luke Hermann.

FLASHBACK

“Hello?”

“Uncle Matt, it’s Luke.”

“Hey, Luke, is everything alright?”

“No. I mean yeah, at home, I mean dad did walk in on grandpa in the bathroom again, but things here are good, but no...”

“Luke what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“I don’t want my dad to die.”

“Oh, Luke... Hey, bud, it’s okay, don’t cry.”

“But he almost died, and so did you! When uncle Andy died it seemed so far away, like it couldn’t happen to my dad, but then...”

“Hey, I know. Everyone at the firehouse, we love your dad. And you. We’re all looking out for him and watching his back, okay? We always do everything we can to make sure he goes home to you.”

“But that’s not enough sometimes, is it?”

“Luke, your dad loves you more than anything, he will always do whatever it takes to make it through a shift and back home to the people he loves more than anything else in the world. And his in-laws.” The uncontrollable sounds coming from the boy had changed from crying to laughing, and Matt couldn’t help but crack a smile amongst his own misty eyes. Hermann really didn’t get along with his in-laws, did he?

FLASHBACK OVER

The call ended up being a small kitchen fire, minimal damage, no one was injured, but Casey remained in a sour mood. He couldn’t promise the safety of his colleagues in their line of work, and that was pissing him off more than usual today.

“Alright, everyone, today our own Jose Vargas transfers over from truck to squad.”

Casey and Severide were at odds, but that didn’t mean the rest of the house had to be, and it really was a tragedy that tensions spilled over quite a bit. So Matt made sure that he looked as genuine as he felt while shaking his brother in arms’ hand, “best of luck.”

“Thanks, lieutenant.” He still felt a bit like he was losing one to the enemy, so he retreated to his office. Which turned out to be a pretty bad move, considering all he could do was think about Voight. If he was being honest, Matt was afraid of what he’d gotten himself into. He knew it was the right thing, he just wondered if he’d make it out the other side unscathed. His mind kept wandering to those action movies about stopping dirty cops. Kidnapping, torture, death. He couldn’t help but wonder if that was Voight’s style.

“Hey.” And then suddenly Hallie was there, in a red sweater and black leggings. “Hey yourself, what are you doing here?”

“I just thought I’d come by for a visit, are you okay? You’ve been drifting off a lot lately.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“Well, I have to admit, there’s another reason I stopped by. To see if you were up for something that we talked about but never got around to doing?” Playfully lust eyes met his as she shut the blinds on his door. And like magic, Matt’s day got a whole lot better.

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

Closed doors didn’t always have connotations, but in the firehouse they did. Everything was based on context, sometimes it meant that whoever was on the other side was sleeping in their office. Sometimes it was paperwork, or alone time, or some not-so-alone time with a special someone. Or like now, where the chief ushered in a police captain, detective, and then requested his presence. Everyone was well aware by now of his debacle with Voight, so they stayed clear. Casey was seething. The ‘captain’ basically came all this way to tell them that IA was conducting a BS investigation and that despite the fact that he was Voight’s superior, he couldn’t do anything. And then Antonio spoke up. Volunteered. Matt looked him in the eye, and while he could tell the man was honourable and that he’d do everything he could, Matt couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with Gabby.

“Thank you, detective Dawson.”

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

“Guys who assaulted you have a record. Guaranteed.” Matt was sore, but not sore enough to miss a shift, and certainly not sore enough to look at binders filled with the photos of known offenders with Antonio. Gabby entered to grab her stuff just as Matt got past the first page. Until  Matt’s rang with Hallie checking in he used that as an excuse to pretend she wasn’t even in the room. “Hey, just looking at photographs, tattoos.” 

“You never know.” Hallie was being the optimist for once, and Matt couldn’t be more grateful for it.

“That’s right.”

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Even before he responded to Hallie Matt could practically feel Gabby’s sadness. It was palpable. He could actually feel the realization shift in Antonio Dawson. So when Matt hung up the phone, he didn’t look at either of them. He pretended that he didn’t see their facial expressions out of the corner of his eye, that he didn’t sense the longing in Gabby’s delayed departure from the briefing room, that he didn’t feel the weight in Antonio start to shift as he leaned on the table to watch Matt look through the binder. And then the bells went off.

[askcharaandfriends]

I feel like Hermann would have gotten hit on alot and flirted with but she was just kinda too oblivious too realize

Dr Hermann may not write romance novels in this world, but she does read them. A lot. That helps, I think. It's less that she wouldn't catch a flirt and more that she might be too busy to notice. Too absorbed in whatever she is doing. If you have her attention, she would notice.

She is smart and pretty and talented, so she did get a fair amount of flirts in her day. But there were definitely some who were intimidated by her brilliance.

[personalcoachingcenter]

Flexibility: One Self, Multiple Roles

New Post has been published on https://personalcoachingcenter.com/flexibility-one-self-multiple-roles/

Flexibility: One Self, Multiple Roles

A Coaching Model By Milagros Echecopar, Evolution Coach, PERU

There is no reality except the one contained within us. That is why so many people live such unreal life. They take the images outside of them for reality and never allow the world within to assert itself. Hermann Hesse,Steppenwolf

I have been what people call a devoted and surrogate caregiving daughter. I have also been a loving mother, a successful international executive, a supporting wife, and some more, all at the same time. And I can tell, it’s demanding, very demanding, to a point where I lost sight of who I was. To deal with all that was required of me, to be the best I could in each role, I unconsciously started to tamper down certain aspects of my personality, and disregard feelings I thought were not serving me.

Thinking I was being clever, doing the right thing, excelling in all my roles, I was so wrong. I might have looked smart, I might have looked like I was doing a great job, but I could have done much better because I was failing in being ME (funny how those are my initials, although MEK is what many people call me).

We tend to live putting labels on ourselves and to others: I’m a daughter, I’m a mother, I’m an executive, I’m a coach, you are a teacher, you are a grandfather, you are an artist, etc. It’s fine to have those labels, they help us identify the roles we are performing and provide information about ourselves, but they do not define us.

The titles we accumulate during our lives can be enriching, bring us joy and fulfillment, but they can also become planks that, one after the other, build a wall, a box, that hides our true selves from us, from others. And they can become heavy, hiding our inner self, and constricting, limiting the space for personal traits that we think, feel do not serve us to be at our bests while performing the roles those titles entail.

And therein lies my problem with those labels, when they start to define who we are, when we, or others, use them to put us in a particular box. Those labels define the role we are performing but do not constitute a definition of our core, our inner self.  When the way we live our lives is determined by those labels, by the boxes in which we or others have put ourselves, we live in stress. In stress between what is required from us to fulfill those roles and who we are, what drives us, what we need to feel whole, at peace with the way we live our lives, and at peace with the roles we are performing at that moment.

I started this journey with my mother in mind, but along the way, I’ve found it has been for me too, and for all who face the challenge of performing at their best different roles, especially working caregivers. So many of us are daughters, mothers, wives, workers, and caregivers, all at the same time.

The paradox is that even though we are the same person in each of those roles, we are not. While performing those roles, we tend to show only the sides of ourselves that we consider serve us better for said roles; and we, and the people around us, get used to that representation of ourselves.

  We and they are oblivious of the different traits of our personalities that can be of so much value, but that we only bring in when performing other roles, if they have not been wholly disregarded. What is worst is that we and they are not conscious of the demands that the accumulation of titles puts on us. People forget a human being is performing that role and see only the executive, the father, the son, but not the whole person.

Initially, I had thought about focusing primarily on informal caregivers because I have seen and experienced the challenges one faces when performing that role. Of course, I still would like to work with them. But now, looking back at my own experience and my coaching journey so far, I realize that the challenges caregivers face can be similar to those faced by people who find themselves defined by their titles and do not integrate their whole selves in the different roles they are performing.

Life sometimes throughs at us roles we did not ask for, we did not foresee, we do not want, as in the case of caregivers, but we feel we must take them on. Life also sometimes takes away from the roles we were attached to, we liked, we felt proud of, as when we are laid off. When either of those happens, many different feelings can arise within us: frustration, anger, despair, fear, insecurity. We might feel that something is not entirely right within ourselves but can’t put the finger on it. And since we must keep performing our other roles, we disregard those feelings and focus on what “serves” us to keep going.

That’s what happens when a loved one suddenly is diagnosed with an impairing illness, and we are put in the role of caregivers. It’s so unexpected that some of us do not even recognize ourselves as caregivers, despite its impact on our lives, and we just go on doing what is expected of us as good daughters, mothers, wives, husbands. Roberts&Donahue (1994) indicate that caretaking has adverse effects on the well-being of the caretaker and that it can be impacting the satisfaction they feel about the role they associate with caregiving.

They found that was the case of middle-aged women who associated their role as daughters with caregiving. It’s also what happens when someone is promoted and is now the manager of her/his previous partners. The new title comes with an array of expectations from us and from others, not only about our performance but also about the way we conduct ourselves. Or when we are laid off and find ourselves without the title that we and others identified as what defines us.

As contradictory as it might sound to all I’ve exposed so far about titles, not recognizing that being a caregiver is a different role from being a daughter, a husband, a mother adds an unnecessary layer of difficulty to our role. Not being conscious of what might change in the way people interact with us after a promotion makes the transition harder. Not being truly aware that we are much more than the roles we play can leave us mourning for a phase that is no longer going to come back and missing all the opportunities to create new paths for ourselves.

Because it is not about disregarding the roles we are performing, it’s about embracing them and making them our own without losing sight that they do not define us. If we are not conscious of the differences between our various roles and the diverse traits of our personalities that go beyond those roles, we cannot determine what within our vast array of personal resources we can use and where we will need help.

Fleeson and colleagues’ research, as cited in Wundrack et al. (2018), suggests that everyone will eventually express the entire range of possible personality state levels but that there are individual differences in the frequency with which the different state levels occur in everyday life. Furthermore, Hung Kit Fok et al.(2007) suggest that personality serves as a vital factor in orchestrating the organization of the ”if-then” associations between situational factors and endorsement of different display rules.

If we are conditioned by the titles we carry, the way we display our different personality state levels is also conditioned. Thus, the more conscious we are of what influences that display, the more in command we will be, and the better equipped we will be to dig into the richness of our personalities to perform our roles.

What if we were to acknowledge the new roles, the demands they entail, and embrace them? What if we were to acknowledge that that phase of our life is gone? What if we were to acknowledge that, despite those changes, we are still the US with all the good and “bad”? What if we were to acknowledge our whole selves and bring it in our different roles and stages in our lives?

That’s what drives me as a coach, partnering with people who want to embrace who they are at that moment in their lives, uncover the richness of their inner selves, bring their whole being in their different roles, and realize how much fulfilling their lives can be when they do so.

It’s like composing a piece of music; sometimes, one instrument, or a group of instruments, will take center stage while others play at different levels. Still, they are all integrated to produce that unique and beautiful piece of music. If one instrument is missing, the music might still sound good, but it can be more beautiful if all of them are playing at their proper time. And it doesn’t have to be a rigid composition; it can be like jazz, flexible, adapting to the context, the mood, and the musicians’ abilities.

How is this connected to coaching? I propose that by partnering with a coach, clients can move from a place where they are disregarding different aspects of their personalities and disregarding their need to tend to themselves to a place where they acknowledge and integrate those aspects in the way they live, they perform their different roles and interact with their loved ones, families, friends, colleagues, etc. Clients can become more flexible, be able to find better ways to integrate their different personality traits while transitioning through diverse roles and evolve.

Flexibility: One Self, Multiple Roles Coaching Model

Coaching provides a safe space for clients to stand on their vulnerability and tackle the complex task of understanding their mental state in real life, which requires considerations of their circumstances, beliefs, knowledge, feelings, intentions, and personality (Wundrack et al., 2018). Coaching is also about partnering with clients and supporting them in finding ways to move forward. But, if their process is conditioned by their titles and clients are unaware of it, how can they genuinely understand themselves? How can they be conscious of what is holding them back and of all the resources they could use to move in the direction they desire?

Thus, some of the questions I would endeavor to help clients find their answers to would be: what are the belief, value that anchors their current perspective, and the role they are performing? How can they take perspective and let go of that anchor and/or their unconscious bias? What would it take for them to move into action to shorten the distance between who they are, who they can be, and how they are perceived by themselves and others? How can they find a more satisfactory way to perform their roles? Because, as Roberts&Donahue (1994) note, the similarity between descriptions of any given social role and who we are (our general self) could be related to the degree to which we feel committed to and satisfied with that role.

We would work with clients to help them let go of anchors that keep them stuck and inflexible; accept and acknowledge the multiple options and perspectives available to them and integrate their whole selves and roles, building a different relationship with them and making transition processes smoother and more fulfilling.

For that to happen, we consider that a Sense of Coherence (SOC), as defined by Antonovsky (1979)as cited in Eyzaguirre (2018), is needed. SOC is the global orientation one has towards life and the ability to perceive it in a dynamic, lasting, and confident way. According to Eyzaguirre (2018), the three dimensions of SOC are:

Comprehensibility: ability to understand and explain the situation faced, becoming predictable by the person;

Manageability: having the own internal resources that are available in the person to be able to face the situation and be able to control it; and

Emotional sense: the situation has a meaning for the person and is therefore considered as a commitment capable of challenging and facing.

Antonovsky (1993), as cited in Eyzaguirre (2018), sustains that the more developed and strengthened the SOC is, the greater the willingness to perceive life events as less stressful and with greater control and meaning over them. For example, in the case of caregivers, they found that the greater their SOC, the more balanced and positive care they would provide. They sustain that this is because SOC as a resource allows them to see the patient’s disease as less threatening and, instead, perceive reality from the healthiest.

Moreover, according to Eyzaguirre (2018), Antonovsky (1994) indicated that successful coping with stressful events brings positive health consequences and is therefore expected to influence satisfaction, happiness, and positive affect. Thus, “the development of a strong SOC in the face of the burden and the stressful stimulus, allows to reinforce and improve the health of the person, by the cognitive and emotional capacity to identify the dimensions of the problem as probabilities and as challenges that can be explained and overcome by the internal resources themselves” (Antonovsky, 1979as cited in Eyzaguirre, 2018).

Based on the benefits that a highly developed SOC can bring to our clients, we propose working with them on growing and strengthen their SOC.  To create a process that can contribute to a fruitful journey, we have considered models like Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), Relational Frame Theory (RFT), and Hulbert-Williams et al.’s (2016)Contextual Behavioral Coaching (CBC).

As per the description provided by Han et al. (2021), citing Hayes et al.(2012), ACT is based on a psychological flexibility model, and some of the aspects covered when applying this model are:

cognitive defusion (i.e., stepping back or detaching from unhelpful thoughts and emotions to reduce their dominance over behaviors);

self-as-context (i.e., observing thoughts and emotions without judgment);

values (identifying and connecting values to behaviors for a meaningful life); and

committed action (making efforts to establish patterns of actions/behaviors to live a meaningful life aligned with values).

Grounded in contextual behavioral science, relational frame theory (RFT) explores language and thoughts’ origins and philosophical connotations (PsycInfo Database Record, 2020). Building on that, Hulbert-Williams et al. (2016) take both ACT and RFT and incorporate Contextual Behavioural Science concepts to propose a third approach which they call Contextual Behavioural Coaching (CBC).

Integrating the concepts and tools provided by ACT, RFT, and CBC, we would partner with our clients to develop and strengthen their SOC to find inner balance and satisfaction in the different roles they perform.

The stages we would cover throughout our work with our clients would be exploration, identify anchors, take perspective, flexibility, and action.

Exploration

This aspect of the coaching process will aim to deepen client’s self-understanding and increase their acceptance of challenges.

In a study conducted by Hulbert-Williams et al. (2016), they worked with a patient to help her contact her feelings of stuckness and the accompanying thoughts of failure. Then, they traced how she would numb these feelings with busyness (and occasionally, wine); and identified that such behaviors seemed to be serving the function of experiential avoidance. By exploring her feelings, she deepened the understanding of herself and what was driving her behavior.

In the case of caregivers, Han et al. (2021) cite Brodaty&Donki (2009), found that accepting the losses of relatives’ abilities and care demands assists family caregivers to better adapt.

Identify Anchors

When we look at identifying anchors, we will partner with clients to find what they are fused to; what stories they are telling themselves that bring rigidity to the way they undertake their different roles in life.

AsHulbert-Williams et al. (2016) indicate, being fused to specific stories we tell ourselves leads to fixed patterns of behavior which can be unworkable in the context of client values and desired goals. In a state of fusion, it can be hard to separate ourselves from our thoughts.

Looking back at what we initially described as how we can be conditioned by specific roles, Hayes et al. (1986), as cited in Hulbert-Williams et al. (2016), found that rule-governed behavior is inflexible. That is, in the presence of unwritten rules, human behavior can often fail to respond to other contingencies of reinforcement.

Working with our clients on identifying and acknowledging those anchors and rule-governed behaviors will contribute to channel their energy in more positive, productive, and flexible ways.

Take Perspective

We propose taking perspective as providing psychological space between self and thoughts for clients to challenge their current view and raise awareness that their perspective is transient.

Hulbert-Williams et al. (2016) propose that techniques which encourage defusion can be helpful, especially when clients describe feeling stuck in a given pattern of behavior. Such techniques help clients move from a place where they try to battle with those behaviors, and the associated thoughts, to a place where they notice them and are curious about them – ‘defusing’ from them to provide a bit of psychological breathing space between themselves and their thoughts.

To take perspective, the previous step, identifying anchors, is required, as perspective-taking involves two processes: anchoring and adjustment (Wundrack et al., 2018). We need to establish the initial anchoring perspective, the person’s perspective, from which clients start, so clients find ways to challenge it and raise awareness that said perspective is temporal, transient. Being aware that their current perspective is transient and only one of many possible perspectives undermines the significance of their point of view as an anchor when considering other perspectives. Therefore, clients may be more able or willing to deviate from their perspectives and may be open to making more adjustments (Wundrack et al., 2018).

Broadening the number of possible perspectives, incorporating how thoughts, feelings, behaviors, and circumstances fit together in their lives, can help clients build a richer repertoire of plausible, self-experienced perspectives that facilitates adjustment (Wundrack et al., 2018). This process, called perspective-pooling, builds on the increased growth in diverse experiences over time. In other words, perspective-pooling builds on the increased growth in diverse self-knowledge for people high in state variability (Wundrack et al., 2018).

Flexibility

This diverse self-knowledge will be a stepping stone for clients to view themselves as containers of different selves and develop a more flexible sense of self with realism. That means incorporating their context and what they want and can do about it, how they want to conduct themselves given the reality of their current circumstances.

In Hulbert-Williams et al.’s (2016)study, their client had lots of ‘I am’ stories that helped her make sense of the world but were not always helpful in terms of functioning effectively. Thus, we will work with clients on considering their many different selves, so they can see that they are the container for all of these ‘selves and, thus, behave more flexibly.

Flexibility is fundamental to our client’s success in dealing with the challenges they are facing. Greater psychological flexibility has been associated with a higher quality of life, emotional well-being, community participation, and resilience (Butler & Ciarrochi, 2007, as cited in Han et al.,2021). In the case of family caregivers, studies found psychological flexibility as a significant buffer against psychological distress (i.e., depressive symptoms, anxiety, and stress) (Jansen et al., 2017, as cited in Han et al., 2021)

It’s interesting to note that, according to Hulbert-Williams et al. (2016, P. 12):

 “In the work setting, psychological flexibility is predictive of job performance (Bond & Flaxman, 2006), attitudes toward learning new skills (ibid.), job satisfaction (Donaldso-Feilder & Bond, 2004), and lower absenteeism (Bond, Flaxman, & Bunce, 2008). In intervention studies, ACT has successfully improved acceptance and engagement with a work redesign intervention (Bond et al., 2008), and has reduced both workplace stress (Flaxman & Bond, 2010b; 2010a) and burnout (Vilardaga et al., 2011).”

Action

For this process to work and impact our clients’ lives, they will need to act, take small steps to build a different relationship with their ‘self’, and build muscle to adjust and incorporate diverse perspectives. As Hulbert-Williams et al. (2016) share, by broadening their client’s horizons, by contacting the parts of her ‘self’ that had been neglected, and by taking small steps of committed action, a new person emerged.

The goal is to partner with clients, so they take action and build a different relationship with themselves by acknowledging distressing thoughts and feelings, by acknowledging their anchors and looking at them from different perspectives, by acknowledging and embracing the diversity of their inner selves. And thus, incorporating them in the roles they perform in a more balanced and satisfactory way, therefore living a more fulfilling and meaningful life.

It will be such an enriching experience to share with my clients their journeys of self-discovery and witness how they find within themselves what they need to transition through their different roles and evolve and grow.

Learn How to Create Your Own Coaching Model

Your Coaching Model reflects your values, philosophies and beliefs and must communicate who you will coach and the problems you will solve.

Read more about creating your own coaching model

References

Eyzaguirre, Valeria Mariel. Sobrecarga del cuidador y sentido de coherencia en padres de adolescentes con cáncer (Caregiveroverload and sense of coherence inparentsofadolescentswithcancer).http://hdl.handle.net/20.500.12404/12871.

Han, Areum & Yuen, Hon & Jenkins, Jeremy Acceptance and commitment therapy for family caregivers: A systematic review and meta-analysis. Journal of Health Psychology. 26. 82-102. 10.1177/1359105320941217.

Hulbert-Williams, Lee & Hochard, Kevin & Hulbert-Williams, Nick & Archer, Rob & Nicholls, Wendy & Wilson, Kelly Contextual behavioral coaching: An evidence-based model for supporting behavior change. International Coaching Psychology Review. 11. 30-42.

Hung Kit Fok, Chin Ming Hui, Michael Harris Bond, David Matsumoto, Seung Hee Yoo. Integrating personality, context, relationship, and emotion type into a model of display rules. 

PsycInfo Database Record (2020). Abstract of Dymond, S., & Roche, B. (Eds.). Advances in relational frame theory: Research and application. New Harbinger Publications, Inc.. https://psycnet.apa.org/record/2013-07435-000

Roberts, B. W.& Donahue, E. M. One personality, multiple selves: Integrating personality and social roles. Journal of Personality, 62(2), 199–218. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-6494.1994.tb00291.x

Skews, Rachael & Palmer, Stephen. Acceptance and commitment coaching: making the case for an ACT-based approach to coaching, published in https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Stephen-Palmer-6/publication/316455754_Acceptance_and_commitment_coaching_Making_the_case_for_an_ACT-based_approach_to_coaching

Wundrack, Richard & Prager, Julia & Asselmann, Eva & O’Connell, Garret & Specht, Jule. Does Intraindividual Variability of Personality States Improve Perspective-Taking? An Ecological Approach Integrating Personality and Social Cognition. Journal of Intelligence. 6. 50. 10.3390/jintelligence6040050.

Original source: https://coachcampus.com/coach-portfolios/coaching-models/flexibility/

[gottliebdyke]

a concept: newt cutting hermanns hair for the first time. they move into a flat together after the war and hermanns hair gets annoyingly long so newt offers to cut it and out of something hermann says, yes, okay, go ahead. so newt get the scissors and a towel and herds hermann into the bathroom and has him sit on the shower chair in the shower and drapes the towel around his shoulders and drags his fingers through hermanns hair a few times with little hmms and mutters to himself and then presses his fingers to hermanns scalp to tip his head forward and hes wholly oblivious to it bc hes yk focused on cutting hermanns hair but hermann is definitely blushing bright red because theres something astoundingly intimate about it all

[bae-science]

y’all asked, i deliver! here’s some more fic recs now that valentines’ day is starting to encroach:

Music of the Night by @novapple

i am constantly BEGGING people to use newt being musical in their fics more and THIS is proof of how excellent a canon concept it is because: MY TWO JOYS: newt being musical AND the precursors letting him play music sometimes and him using that as a coping mechanism during and after. also, like, the writing style is really crisp and clear and has an EXCELLENT voice in terms of newt’s characterization both before and after uprising, and that’s not easy to do in the same fic

Bear Your Neighbor’s Burden Within Reason

this whole series is really good but as someone who’s recently physically disabled myself, i fucking appreciate a fic that gets hermann’s disability right AND has newt be a good abled ally. not ONCE do we get a forced-feeling pity party or newt having to “learn a valuable lesson” about autonomy or whatever; from the getgo he’s polite, respectful, and still a fucking moron who i love. like, if you’re a ho for touch starvation and characters being each others’ rocks, this is for YOU. AND it doesn’t fall into the trope you think it does when you read the description, which was a genuinely interesting and very in character decision. the whole author’s newmann tag is really really good, including, like. some straight up excellent spicy stuff, so set aside some time to go through it all.

The Six Million Pillows Man by @callmealois on twitter

bro straight up this is so fucking cute why don’t people write more hermann with pillows. 

newton geiszler, oblivious moron extraordinaire by @three-black-cats

SORRY BUGABOO IT WAS TOO GOOD I HAD TO INCLUDE ITTTTTT. this is like, a fucking MASTERCLASS in pining. jesus christ. if you like fics where NOBODY has the brain cell, sit your ass down and bone appetit. like charles i KNOW it’s self indulgent i ENCOURAGE this kind of behavior from you because IT TURNS OUT SHIT LIKE THIS.

the truth about me (and the truth about you) by @buttfucknowhere-spaceville

genuinely the most interesting and original take on the “amnesia fake married” trope EVER i’m not kidding. like, you will not expect where this fic goes, but it’s a GENIUS writing choice that’s SO fucking funny and clears up any weird messy consent issues while leading to an ending that’s really emotionally impactful and satisfying. oh, and did i mention this is the first fic mary’s written in EIGHT YEARS. WHAT THE FUCK MAN. genuinely got me into the trope now.

Sequitur

whoever realized that the logical extension of the drift hangover trope would be hermann getting newt’s adhd is a fucking GENIUS. someone do this with hermann’s autism.

Bump in the Night (NSFW)

i didn’t know you could write 8,000 words of slow burn awkward sex pollen phone sex based off the one joke line everyone always ribs newt about but apparently you can to extremely funny results.

Music, When Soft Voices Die by @kscientific

fun fact, i actually sang the song the title is from in middle school choir. anyway this is extremely cute and newt and hermann playing piano together needs to be a WAY more popular trope because this fic SOLD me.

The Stretch and Pull of Disused Hearts

this one was actually recommended to me by @skepticamoeba over on twitter, and i read it all in one sitting because it was. SO GOOD. another extremely well done depiction of hermann’s disability, and i actually really like newt’s development here in learning how to express how he wants to help hermann without coming off wrong. i admit, yeah, sometimes it’s really fucking hard to do the shit you need to do to take care of yourself, especially when spoons are in short supply, and even though hermann is technically doing the unhealthy thing here, you never feel annoyed with him because he’s written to be so so empathetic. like, yeah, there’s a fucking WAR going on! and physical limitations suck to think about! everybody gets a character arc here, and the angst and pining is HORRIFYING and so so good. if you’ve ever had to drag yourself out of bed at 3am to fix a 32 BG by chugging orange juice straight from the bottle while sweating like a christmas pig and about to pass out in the middle of the kitchen before furiously shoving pretzels and nutella in your mouth because your body is on the verge of severe hypoglycemia, or, y’know, something along the lines of that, this is for YOU.

hey jealousy by @provokiing (NSFW)

i’m fucking cryign i hate gay people so much i really do. raleigh becket RIGHTS nothing but respect for my king of allies.

oh and obviously read 3 Times Newt Was a Bad Diabetic + 1 Time Hermann Was a Good One to stan good taste and dr. anako flaerty

[yelena-salamander]

Drunk(Valerius, oneshot)

Damn it. I was hit by the CG of @bastart13 's April fools... I predict to draw Portia but even not start... Just to finish this little story.(Sob) And now I am wandering the face of Diony. Hope you enjoy it!

Drunk

When the carriage arrive the vineyard, it has been dark. And everyone knows the owner of this vineyard have a strange rule: No wine to sale after dawn.

With a little nervous, the man on the carriage walks to door and waiting for the host. But out of the blue, the person he saw was a familiar face that he just met few weeks ago.

“What are you doing here?” He frowns, ask the person with impatient.

And the person seems surprise too. But still salutes and says to Valerius. ”Good night, Consul Valerius. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Nothing. I’m here for wines, obliviously. Nothing about you. Now, Get out of my sight, witch.”

The one was called witch sighs. They just have a fight last week, about the word ”witch”. “I believe you know the rules, dear Consul. Since it is night now, I have no wine for you.”

“I am not talking to you. Where’s host?”

“He is not here this month. And…” He speaks very slowly, and staring at Valerius with a smile. “Before he’s back, I am the host of this vineyard.”

Valerius chokes. “Wha…what!?”

“Uh huh.” He is quite satisfied with his reaction. “So, maybe you can comeback tomorrow. And remember, only before dawn.”

Valerius doubts even before dawn, the damn witch will sale him any drop of wines.

But he can not bare a night without wine. Valerius swallows down the anger. "Please."

"Rules are rules."

Valerius flushes. But he repeats with softer sound. "Please."

"My name is Dionysus. You can call me Diony." Diony pauses, still staring at Valerius. "I can't break the rule. Old Hermann trust me."

Valerius despairs.

But out of his blue again, Diony tell him: "Wait me for a second."

He turns back to mansion, and get back with handling a bottle with a deep ruby red liquid.

Is that wine...? "You just said..."

"It's a gift for a friend. I didn't break the rule." Diony gave it to him and said. "Don't drink too much and return it to me tomorrow." Diony speaks softly. "Good noght, Consul Valerius."

 What is he doing?

Valerius get back next day, and Diony don't show up this time. But he still can not buy the wines he wnats... Since Diony gave the command to whole vineyard. But he gave him one bottle of different wine every day, and ask Valerius to return those wines next day.

And...Valerius is not sure about varieties of grapes it is. And he can't tell the years about any of them too. He has never tasted the aroma. He thought he has tasted all the wines Vesuvia can get. But not this one. Where is these wines come from?

And these wines... these wines are amazing.

He has the habit of wine tasting for long years. But after Court Lucio dead, the possibility of manage the affairs of Vesuvia dropped on him, he started to lose the joy of tasting wines. His tasty was duller day by day. And drinks wines become a habit but a hobby to him. Sometimes he even can't sleep without whole bottle of wine.

But. Those wines recalls him the pure joy of tasting wines. And he can sleep easily with one glass of those wines but a bottle. Valerius is not sure why. The only thing he know is these wines helps him relax and look forward to what will it tasty like today.

So... after two weeks, and he get ordinary wines of this vineyard, and be told that he can buy several bottles but get back to vineyard every day, Valerius is a little disappointed.

He hasn't get the answer of: "where those wines come from? "; "How much of one bottle?" from Diony. He just disappeared after the first night.

Still, the wines are good. Nothing changes. But... he just can't get satisfied by. The tedious and insomnia return to his daily life again.

So, when he sees Diony in the palace, he forget his manners.

"Dionysus!" Valerius shout aloud to the views of his back, and cough awkwardly when he notice all the servants stare at him with surprise.

"Oh, good afternoon, Consul Valerius." Diony turn to him and smiles, as nothing had happened between them. Valerius is a little angry...since he doesn't know why.

"Where have you been?"

Diony stares at him with funny. "Work for Countess, of course. Why ask?"

Ugh. Valerius feels more indignant when he smile at him.

"Where did you got those wines?" Valerius asks directly.

"Oh, those wines." It seems he remember this thing until this moment. "Hmm... Sorry, but I can't tell you."

Valerius chokes. "You know how important this question to me."

"How?" Diony asks back innocently. And this made Valerius feel like to puch at someone's face... the first time in his life.

"You..." Valerius's face twists, not knowing how to deal with this witch.

"OK, OK." Diony laughs and shakes his hand before Valerius does anything. "I can't tell you...but I can show you."

What?

"Meet me in Old Hermann's vineyard this saturday afternoon." Diony whispers in his year mystically. Valerius flushes, but before he answer the damn witch, Diony has ran away.

 Valerius goes to the vineyard according to appointment. And Diony has waited him there, with a different outfit he has never seen.

"Can you ride?" Diony asks Valerius as he ride on a beautiful redbrown horse.

" Not a fan of." Valerius answers implicitly.

"Oh..." Diony drags out, "Then I guess you have to ride with me."

"Can't I take a carriage?"

"I don't want to let anyone else know the place." Diony shrugs, "You can chooses not to visit."

"You..." Valerius gets angry. He knows how he want to know the source of those wines. He is fooling him!

"I take this as a yes?" Diony smiles and reachs a hand to he. "Come."

Valerius takes his hand and sits behind him reluctantly.

"Here we go!" Diony spurs the horse, and takes a pathway leave the Old Hermann's vineyard.

Not too long, they arrive a estate with garden.

Diony smiles to Valerius. "Welcome to my little vineyard."

Wh...what!?

"You...you make those wines."

"Yes. A little hobby of mine." Diony looks satisfied with Valerius's react, he laughs, and hand over Valerius a glass of wine.

Valerius sips. Yes...that's the smell. He follow Diony's pace silently to the garden of grape. He stares at Diony as he check the The growth of plants.

"Why?" Eventually, Valerius asks.

"What?" Diony seems distracted.

"Why bring me here? You said you don't want strangers know this vineyard."

"Oh, about that?" Diony keeps his working, "You are not 'strangers'. You are a true connoisseur...Because of my constitution, I can't drink. It's pity since I do love wine-making...and I have put a lot of effort into it."

Under the gaze of Valerius, the grapevine climb to Diony's arm amazingly.

"I spent my hour and magic to plant this grape and make wines. Each bottle of them has their special virtue." Diony takes the glass of wine from Valerius and sips. Soon, his face blushes. "It's...very lonely that I can't taste them."

So...the improvement of his situation is not delusion.

Valerius feels hard to describe his mood now. The very first time, he notice Diony's long hair is deep ruby, just as wines. His face drenched in the light of sunset seems...pretty.

"Why me? I once insulted you."

Diony take a glimpse on him, then turn back to his grape.

"Hmm...Actually, I can understand how you feel." Diony plays the grapevine, "You work so hard for this country, but your Countess choose a stranger...maybe a deceiver to ask help."

Valerius keeps silent.

"I can imagine how hard you work for this country. And you are overanxious, my dear Consul."

"The first day you went to Old Hermann's vineyard... I notice your face are pale and with dark circles though you've tried to conceal. I guess you work too late to went to Old Hermann's vineyard. And...you were even hard to sleep without wines, so as you knew the rule, you still came."

That's right. It's hard to believe the attentive under the playful attitude, but he is absolutely hit the right note.

"I hope we can become friends." Diony continues. "So...I decide to help you. I choose every bottle of my wines carefully, and in order to avoid you feel sick of me, I order those staffs to hand over to you."

"You are such a handsome man I've ever met...so graceful and work hard. I do really want to help." Diony stares at Valerius sincerely, "Is this answer fine to you? My dear Consul."

Damn...he must drunk. Valerius feels his heart beats a little too quickly.

"...My friends call me Valerius." Valerius turns away his head, "You don't need to call me Consul every times. And I think...your vineyard is relaxable, maybe, just maybe... I can come here to take a break some times."

Diony smiles tenderly. "Whenever you want. My dear con... Valerius."

Oh... how drunk is he? Valerius can't help but finally smiles a little to this damn witch. "Now, give me another glass of your wine."

--Fin--

[diceyfall]

[fic; when it breaks]

m!de sardet x kurt x vasco, kurt has a revelation when he sees de sardet and vasco together, 3422 words 🌹 [ao3]

It’s not that he’s jealous, Kurt tells himself.

His eyes follow Tristan’s hand as it settles between Vasco’s shoulder blades while the two of them are bent over the crafting table at camp. It slides down the length of Vasco’s spine, hugging the dip in his lower back as Vasco leans in to murmur something into Tristan’s ear, a gentle press of his lips to Tristan’s cheek where the mark edges out from underneath his beard. They’re probably not talking about crafting anymore.

As if sensing Kurt’s gaze lingering on them, Tristan glances over his shoulder to where Kurt sits in front of the campfire. Kurt holds Tristan’s curious gaze for a moment, long enough to not seem suspicious, before he averts his eyes and goes back to whittling the stick of wood with his knife. It’s not the first time during the trip Tristan or Vasco have been sneaking glances at him. He’s probably a bother to them.

Kurt is not jealous. They’re being painfully obvious about their little dalliance and it’s getting hard for him to ignore, that’s all.

“I wondered if you ever felt lonely.”

He barely remembers his answer, can only recall his spine tensing and the subtle frown pulling on Tristan’s brows, the flickering of hurt in his eyes that lingered in Kurt’s mind for days on end.

His rejection was not kind, tinged with fear and sharper for it, but a lot of time has passed since then. The ghost camps are gone, Hermann burned alive at the stake and Kurt has finally gained a sense of closure after these long years.

It leaves him alone with himself, watching from a distance as Tristan finds another who welcomes his affection without hesitation, eager for it, thankful for it and returning it tenfold.

Something heavy weighs in his chest as he watches Vasco lace his fingers together with Tristan’s as the two lovers lock eyes. A soft smile plays on Tristan’s lips as Vasco’s eyes flit down to Tristan’s mouth and Kurt feels ill.

He tosses his half-finished wooden carving aside, rising abruptly from the ground and slipping his knife back into its sheath. It draws attention onto him, but Kurt doesn’t look.

“Gonna take a leak,” he mutters as he stalks off into the forest, leaving the warm glow of the fire behind.

The cold settles into his bones as he moves in between the trees, but the distance does not ease his heart. If anything it makes the emptiness more pronounced as Kurt moves through the forest brush aimlessly. He keeps a mental map of the way back to camp, knows he’s being stupid because he’s practically asking for an ambush, but he needs to work off his restlessness.

Unfortunately the darkness of the woods leaves little for Kurt to focus on but his own thoughts, images and memories blending together to make his stomach churn.

Vasco and Tristan hadn’t been subtle the first time they had snuck off to Tristan’s bedroom in New Sérène, even less so afterwards when they appeared for dinner. Hickeys colored the skin between Vasco’s neck tattoos, Tristan’s curly hair that was usually meticulously styled a mess atop his head.

Kurt excused himself then, mind swirling with visuals he would rather not linger on. Now they all return to him once more as he wonders what Tristan and Vasco must be getting up to back at camp in his absence.

Would Tristan’s mouth latch onto Vasco’s neck again, sucking bruises into him while Vasco arches into the touch? Would Vasco’s hands grip into Tristan’s curls, holding onto him as they kissed, sparing no thought for anyone or anything else? Kurt doesn’t want to think about it, but he can’t seem to stop.

He imagines Vasco sitting on Tristan’s lap, chest to chest as their lips slot together, tongues sliding against each other, hips grinding in an obscene rhythm—Kurt stops walking, braces a hand against a tree as he breathes through the strange mixture of arousal and nausea coiling in his gut.

Why is he doing this to himself?

Frustrated, he turns around on his heel and marches back the way he came, though his anger is directed to no one but himself. He made his choice when he pushed Tristan away, there is no one else to blame for his stupidity.

The bewildering part of it all is that Kurt can’t tell what it is that has him twisted up more. He cares for Tristan—so much more than he should—but there is something about Vasco that stirs feelings inside of him that are fragile and new.

Kurt will catch Vasco’s eyes at times, staring at him with a look he can’t place but it always makes him feel seen, and it makes him feel vulnerable. Vasco has a way of pulling words out of Kurt’s mouth that edge too close to being suggestive, the way his lips curve in a not-quite smile doing funny things to Kurt’s head that he’d rather not examine too closely.

It’s as if he’s a teenager again, caught up in a childish infatuation with a dashing seafaring captain, which is ridiculous because Kurt is nearly a decade older and yet he is unsteady when it comes to Vasco, unsure of himself.

He returns to the camp, walking with what feels like stones in his gut as he thinks about what he feels for Tristan, what he feels for Vasco, how it knots him up inside to think of them together, but as he draws closer to the camp he pauses among the trees.

Two bodies are lying down by the fire, tangled with each other. Kurt’s mouth goes dry as he realizes Vasco is on his back, his coat off, Tristan on top of him slipping his hands underneath Vasco’s shirt while their lips are locked in a passionate kiss.

Kurt curses the way he reacts to it, the heat that pulses through his groin as he feels his trousers grow tighter and yet his heart aches sharply all the same, but it shouldn’t, because he should know better.

For a while he can’t seem to tear his gaze away, fantasy seeping through into reality as Tristan rolls his hips down into Vasco’s and Vasco’s fingers clutch at Tristan’s curls, breathing a moan into Tristan’s mouth that makes Kurt’s dick twitch and his fingers ball into fists by his side at the same time, blunt fingernails digging crescent shapes into the palm of his hand.

Coming back was a mistake. He has to get out of here.

Kurt takes a step back, and a twig snaps beneath his heel.

All three of them freeze.

Tristan pulls away from Vasco, turns his head to peer over his shoulder and somehow finds Kurt’s eyes in the dark, his startled expression shifting into a deep frown. Kurt wonders what his face must look like, for Tristan to look so concerned for him.

“Kurt—”

He turns around and walks away.

“Kurt!” Tristan calls after him, but he doesn’t listen.

He keeps walking, hears footsteps hurrying after him and wishes they would just leave him alone. Kurt is tired of this, tired of having to endure this self-inflicted torture.

It’s Vasco who catches up to him, jogging up from behind him to step in front of him, blocking Kurt’s path. He’s slightly out of breath, likely more so from kissing Tristan than running after Kurt, and Kurt looks away, doesn’t think he can hold Vasco’s piercing gaze.

“Where are you going?” Vasco demands. “You know wandering around like this is asking to get your throat slit.”

“Go back to Tristan, Vasco,” Kurt says wearily, moving to walk around him but Vasco steps in front of him again, a hand on his chest and Kurt halts, staring down at the fingers splayed on top of his armor.

“Tristan wants you to come back.” Vasco pauses, hands curling ever so slightly into the thick fabric of Kurt’s Coin Guard doublet. “And so do I.”

Kurt blinks, looking up to meet Vasco’s gaze, a subtle wrinkle between his dark brows as he stares at Kurt.

“You…” Kurt’s voice is hoarse, so he clears his throat before he tries again. “You seemed busy, I didn’t want to—”

“We were passing the time,” Vasco says quickly, sounding almost a little embarrassed as he glances away for a moment, releasing Kurt’s doublet. “Waiting for you to return.”

“Me?” Kurt raises his brows, baffled. “Why? I would think you- the two of you would appreciate some privacy.”

Vasco breathes out a long-suffering sigh. “I didn’t believe Tristan when he told me you were the oblivious sort, but now I’m starting to have my doubts.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kurt replies, defensiveness masked by an irritated tone. “Clearly I picked up on the fact that you wanted to have some time alone, so I don't see how you can call me oblivious.”

“Not alone, Kurt,” Vasco emphasizes, staring at him in that way again that makes Kurt feel bared.

Kurt hesitates, unsure of everything. “Not… alone?”

“Are you honestly going make me spell it out for you?” Vasco snipes, shifting his weight around on his feet in a way that almost seems anxious. “Tristan and I… we… ah…”

He’s flustered, Kurt realizes faintly, but before he can contemplate as to why, he hears another set of footsteps coming up from behind him.

“What are you two still doing over here?” Tristan asks as he walks up to them, standing beside Kurt and Vasco and glancing from one to the other before his gaze lingers on his lover. “Vasco?”

In the dim light of the campfire filtering in from between the trees, Kurt thinks he can almost see Vasco face darken with a flush.

“I was just about to tell him,” he mumbles.

Kurt scowls, only barely resisting the urge to take a cautious step back. “Tell me what?”

He looks at Tristan, who smiles lightly when their eyes meet and Kurt does his best to ignore the way his heart flutters.  

“Do you remember when I asked you if you were lonely?”

Kurt almost flinches at the unpleasant reminder. “I do.”

“Right.” Tristan’s smile fades as he takes a quiet breath, seeming to be working up to something, perhaps steeling his nerves and Kurt for the life of him can’t figure out what’s going on, what either Tristan or Vasco look so nervous about. “I thought… I was certain I had moved on from that. You made yourself pretty clear, and then Vasco and I—”

He doesn’t want to hear this, he can’t. “If you’re about to start rambling about how perfectly happy you are together, save it. I have eyes. I can see it without needing you to rub it in my face.”

That… came out more harshly than he intended.

Tristan’s eyes widen, mirrored by Kurt’s own panic flashing across his face.

“I- I didn’t mean—"

“Kurt,” Vasco interrupts sternly. “Please shut up.”

Kurt snaps his lips closed again, figuring he can’t make this worse than he already has and wishes halfheartedly the ground could just swallow him up and make him disappear.

Tristan doesn’t seem upset by his snapping, however. If anything, he’s smiling now, almost fond as he looks at Kurt and Kurt is more perplexed than ever.

“Are you jealous, Kurt?”

The words shoot straight through his heart as he turns his head away, breathes in deep; Kurt couldn’t have confirmed Tristan’s suspicions more clearly than if he had come out and answered with a yes. This is it, then. Tristan will gently turn him down, shattering whatever is left of him, leaving him as alone as he’d ever been—

He feels a touch on his hand through his gloves, looks down and finds Tristan’s fingers curling around it, holding it in his own. When he looks up at Tristan’s face, the gaze in his eyes is so tender, filled with affection that isn’t aimed at Vasco but at him, at Kurt.

“Don’t be,” Tristan says softly, and Kurt’s head is spinning.

“What… why are you…” He glances over at Vasco who is watching the two of them with a fond smile on his face, and nothing about this makes sense. “What is this?”

Tristan starts to laugh, still holding onto Kurt’s hand while Vasco lets out another deep sigh.

“What do you think, Kurt?” Vasco says.

“I think I’m dreaming,” Kurt responds weakly, and Vasco snorts before he reaches out and takes Kurt’s other hand in his own and Kurt is… he’s holding both of their hands now.

In his dream, obviously, because there’s no chance in hell this could ever happen in reality.

“I think,” Vasco says, speaking slowly as if to make sure Kurt is following along, “that we’ve both been in love with you this whole time and that you’ve been too thickheaded to notice.”

The words don't sink in, not at first. It's as if Kurt forgot the language, hearing Vasco speak in a foreign tongue. They're in love, he said. Both of them, with Kurt. Tristan and Vasco are in love with each other, and with Kurt.

Kurt’s lips part slightly in his shock as it finally dawns on him, looking from Vasco to Tristan, his heart pounding against his ribs like a drum.

“You- both of you?”

“I know it must be a lot to take in at once,” Tristan says, exchanging a look with Vasco. “But did you really not notice?”

They have both been shooting looks at him the whole trip, Kurt remembers. He assumed it was because they thought him a bother, but could it really be as Vasco said?

“I don’t know.” Kurt looks down at their hands, thinks slightly deliriously that if Vasco and Tristan started holding hands they’d form a perfect triangle. “I just assumed… I don’t know.”

“Do you need time to think?” Tristan asks, always so considerate. “Maybe we should—”

Kurt tightens his hold on Tristan’s hand when he tries to pull it away, thinks that even if this is a dream he’d be a fool to make the same mistake twice.

“No,” he says, voice rough in his throat as he looks at Tristan, can’t hide the longing in his words or his eyes. “I don’t need to think. Not anymore.”

Tristan carefully moves closer, almost cautious at first but more assured when he sees that Kurt isn’t backing away. He lifts his free hand to Kurt’s face, a caress of his fingers to Kurt’s cheek that makes Kurt’s eyes flutter shut—how many times has he thought about this? Imagined it, then shamefully denied it, repressing it inside him?

For a moment, there is nothing, but then he feels it, a hot breath brushing against his mouth, making butterflies flutter in his stomach. Tristan cups his cheek with his palm, and Kurt waits. There’s the softest brush against his lips, almost hesitant, but then a firm press and Kurt’s breath hitches in his throat as Tristan kisses him gently while Vasco’s hand squeezes his, fingers twining together.

It's perfect, more than he could've ever expected as he all but melts against Tristan, against his lips, grows weak at the way Tristan hums into his mouth. It's pure affection, warm and glowing in his chest as he lets himself go. Kurt’s doubt crumbles, collapses into itself when Tristan pulls back with a soft exhale and Kurt almost chases his mouth, but then Tristan steps aside and lets Vasco take his place.

Kurt no longer stands motionless, meets Vasco halfway as Vasco curls his free hand around the back of Kurt’s neck and tugs him close. His lips are more demanding than Tristan’s, the edge of his teeth shooting a thrill up Kurt’s spine.

It’s dizzying, a flood of emotions overwhelming him as Vasco’s tongue slides over his bottom lip, licking his way into Kurt’s mouth and then Tristan leans in to kiss and suck the skin beneath Kurt’s ear. Kurt pulls both his hands free, one arm curling around Vasco’s waist to pull him closer, the other reaching up to tangle his fingers in Tristan’s curls just like how he saw Vasco do it before.

They stand there and kiss for what feels like forever and yet is still not long enough. Vasco breaks away from Kurt to kiss Tristan next, though it’s more of a glide of tongues while Kurt watches with half-lidded eyes, dazed by how much he enjoys the sight of it when it hurt to watch before.

Tristan and Vasco are breathless when they pull apart, exchanging a look before they both turn to Kurt and start kissing his neck at the same time. Kurt’s legs go weak, stumbling a little and Vasco uses the imbalance to push him back against a tree, biting into his skin while Tristan sucks a bruise into his throat, like the ones Kurt saw on Vasco and it’s too good, too good to be true and too good all at once.

Kurt chokes back a groan, exhales a hot breath, fingers clenching into Vasco’s shirt and Tristan’s hair. They both pull back to grant him much-needed reprieve as Kurt all but sags against the tree, at a loss for words.

“Perhaps we should return to camp,” Vasco notes, finger idly tracing over the hickey Tristan left on Kurt’s neck. “You look like you need to lie down.”

“That… that would be good,” Kurt agrees dimly.

Tristan smiles at him, wrapping an around Kurt’s lower back. “Come on, then.”

The bonfire somehow feels so much warmer as the three of them settle down in front of it, their blankets rearranged beneath them to be side by side. Kurt lies in the middle with Tristan on his left and Vasco on his right, arms draped around his waist and his chest, legs tangling, heads resting on either of Kurt’s shoulders as they’re both tucked against his side and Kurt wonders if it’s possible for his heart to physically burst.

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice,” Vasco mutters against the crook of Kurt’s neck. “Tristan was hardly being subtle.”

“You are the last person to talk about being subtle,” Tristan replies with amusement. “If you recite me one more poem about blue eyes I’ll burn down the library.”

“Blue eyes?” Kurt notes curiously, and Vasco all but sputters.

“It wasn’t- I happened to find one verse—”

“Oh, he could wax prose about your eyes for hours if you let him,” Tristan told Kurt playfully. “It’s rather endearing.”

“Do I need to remind you that you wouldn’t shut up about Kurt when we first met?” Vasco points out, saying to Kurt, “The entire voyage of Teer Fradee was one endless monologue singing your praises.”

“I didn’t talk about him that often,” Tristan protests.

“Two mentions in every conversation at the minimum.” Vasco huffs a laugh. “It made me jealous, at first.”

“So, how long have you both… been interested in me?” Kurt asks, feeling almost narcissistic asking it that way, but it was the truth. They were both in love with him, and Kurt still had a hard time wrapping his mind around that.

“Around the same time we fell in love with each other, I think,” Tristan answers thoughtfully.

But that was months ago. Months.

“I’m an idiot,” Kurt concludes; here were two men who had apparently been utterly smitten with him all this time, and he hadn’t noticed. He was so caught up in his own feelings that the thought hadn’t so much as occurred to him before.

He feels Vasco smile against his neck and Tristan’s hand slide up and down his chest in a soothing motion, their weight against Kurt grounding and comforting in a way he can’t explain.

“It all worked out,” Tristan says, tone soft and content as he grabs Vasco’s hand in his own, tangling on top of Kurt’s chest. “That’s all that matters.”

Kurt hums as he closes his eyes, thinks his arms are definitely going to fall asleep in this position with both Vasco and Tristan on top of him, but he doesn’t care. The thought is actually pleasing, in a way.

There are still things they need to talk about, things Kurt needs clarity on because this is a first for him, is probably a first for the two of them as well. But that can wait until the morning.

For right now, he’s happy.

[sunriseverse]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Pacific Rim (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb Characters: Newton Geiszler, Hermann Gottlieb Additional Tags: Mutual Pining, Getting Together, this fic is just. “all the times newt was an oblivious moron” lol, for someone so smart he’s a dumbass, Coming Out, really newt is such a fucking idiot tho, take a hiiiiiint you moron, it ends well tho, Happy Ending Summary:

Newt finds out Hermann has a crush, and totally isn’t jealous about that at all. He’s just—yeah, okay, he’s a little jealous because come on, Hermann? Is a fucking catch. He’d congratulate the guy, but he doesn’t even know who the object of Hermann’s affections is...

[merinnan]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), Pacific Rim (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín/Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén & Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén/Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo/Niè Míngjué Characters: Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Jiāng Yànlí, Lán Qǐrén, Niè Huáisāng, Niè Míngjué, Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo, Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín, Wēn Qíng, Luó "Mián Mián" Qīngyáng, Tendo Choi, Newton Geiszler, Hermann Gottlieb Additional Tags: other characters are probably going to show up tbh but these are the ones i'm currently planning for, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Oblivious, Pining, Everyone is an idiot, seriously where the fuck did all their brain cells go, Loss, No beta we die like wwx, angry grape is angry, i laugh in the face of regular updating so don't expect that sorry, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Past Character Death, that's why the character death archive warning, Flashbacks, 3zun - Freeform Summary:

Once, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were an excited pair of brothers, recently accepted into the Pan Pacific Defence Force's Jaeger program and determined to become rangers fighting against any kaiju coming out of the Breach. Then Wei Wuxian vanished, leaving Jiang Cheng without a Drift partner.

Four years later, Jiang Cheng is the hard-ass trainer of ranger hopefuls at the PPDC's Shanghai facility, still without a chance at piloting his own jaeger as no-one dares Drift with him and be exposed to the anger he displays every day. Then he's asked to help screen and find a new partner for Lan Xichen, a quiet and gentle ranger just now ready to return to duty after tragically losing his original co-pilots in their last combat...

[hermannsthumb]

you should totally do something with ksci janitor’s vamp newt it’s so just so good

i sure will! in a vampire mood this weekend. @k-sci-janitor's vampire newt found here. warnings for quick mention of drinking, allusions to sexy stuff, and also the different kind of drinking you'd expect from a vampire fic (tho on the vague side)

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The circumstances that led Newt down the unwitting path of immortality and general un-dead-ness are, in hindsight, honestly kind of embarrassing. It'd be one thing if he could say it happened in the pursuit of, like, knowledge, like the fierce jellyfish sting scar on his wrist leftover from a research expedition when he was twenty-two or the equally fierce one on his knee received in response to his question (at the age of five) of what would happen if I jumped out of this very tall tree?, or even something unrelated to his extensive biology career, something impressive, y'know, Van Helsing style, something like tracking down some vampire king and barely escaping with his life (un-life?)—not what really happened, which was little more than a bad date. And not even the worst date that Newt's been on, if you can believe it.

Newt was young and stupid then. He still is young and stupid, technically, though the former by appearance only. (Eternally pushing thirty. If he could've picked, he would've done twenty-eight, just before his handful of grey hairs started cropping up. Newt's had almost forty-five years of staring in the mirror at those four fucking grey hairs. He gave up dyeing them around the nineties. Not worth it. Still annoying.) He liked to do what young and stupid people did, like get stupid tattoos, and have a stupid haircut, and get drunk at stupid punk shows and not stumble home until he'd had at least one regrettable hook-up with a stranger and maybe lost his wallet. (The two were often related.) That particular thing was what did him in that night. It was a different time back then, man—if a dude showed even the slightest inkling that he ran in Newt's sort of circle, if you caught his drift, Newt fucking jumped at the chance.

(The band was on their second set of the evening and Newt had already screamed himself hoarse with singing along. He'd ducked outside in a back alleyway for only a second to get some fresh air, the club suddenly too hot and smokey for him to handle, and was just about to go back inside and close out his tab for the night when he realized he wasn't alone. There was someone—he was sure—lurking in the shadows a few feet away. He could hear breathing. He could see—eyes, maybe, in the dim neon light of the bar sign overhead. "Hello?" he'd called.

"Have a light?" the person called back.

They emerged from the shadows, and Newt felt himself relax at once. It was some spooky-looking guy he remembered seeing in the club, leather jacket, boots heavier than Newt's, dark hair and eyeliner. Tall. Newt remembered him, firstly, because he thought he was hot, and secondly, because he swore he caught the guy staring at him at least three times, and to Newt, that was as good as any pick-up line. He was wagging an unlit cigarette at Newt now. He was taller than Newt thought he was back in the bar—much taller, at least a full head on Newt. His eyes were a golden-brown, almost yellow, like a cat's, and Newt found himself unable to tear his own away from them. "L—light?" Newt echoed.

The guy stuck the cigarette in his mouth and arched a perfect eyebrow. Newt didn't smoke, but he did keep a lighter on him for occasions like this. He fumbled through his pockets for it while the guy stepped closer. "I was watching you," he told Newt, while Newt raised the lighter to the cigarette, "in there."

The flame danced and glinted against his eyes. Newt swallowed. "Uh-huh?" he said.

He flicked the lighter shut, leaving them both bathed in nothing but pink neon. A hand slid up against the wall next to Newt's right shoulder. Another plucked at the left lapel of his jacket. Newt was still staring at those eyes. "What's your name?" the guy said, in a puff of cigarette smoke.

"Um." Newt's leather jacket was being pushed off his shoulders. He felt his long hair being tucked to the side of his neck. All at once something seemed in snap in Newt—some reminder of where he was, and what he came here hoping for in the first place. Some hot dude was eyeing Newt up all night long, and now he was actually coming onto Newt, and Newt was about to get laid. He grinned. "Newt," he said. "Just call me that. You were watching me, huh?"

"All night," the guy said.

Newt's jacket hit the ground with a soft thump. A knee was being pushed between his. Newt felt his cheeks heat up a little—he wasn't used to people being this forward with him, and especially not in a semi-public place like this. Usually they at least made a show of offering up their apartment first. "What, um, what for?" he said.

They were kissing. Newt was clinging to the back of his jacket. And then he was kissing Newt's neck, and then he was—

"That kinda hurts," Newt mumbled. "Um, dude, I think your—your fuckin', tongue piercing cut me, or something. It's—"

It was hard to keep his eyes open. His neck felt weird. The guy was into biting, apparently, biting really hard, and yikes, that was going to leave a super embarrassing hickey that Newt would have to explain to his students somehow on Monday, but it also felt really good, like, Newt was maybe getting off kinda good, and Newt thought, dizzily, that he should at least return the favor before he finished up and collapsed in a happy heap on the ground. So he did.

The guy pulled back with a hiss. "Ow. What—?"

Newt tasted something coppery in his mouth, and he panicked and swallowed on instinct. "Oh, shit, dude, I'm sorry," he slurred. His voice sounded like it was a million miles away. "I was trying to be—sexy. Um." There was blood on the guy's chin. He was staring at Newt in something akin to horror. Dark circles were spotting Newt's vision. "I think you cut your lip," he said, and then he passed out.

Newt was alone when he woke up. It was still dark, too. He walked the two miles home, collapsing in bed, fully-clothed, just before dawn, and he didn't wake up again until sunset. He forgot his jacket, but at least he remembered his wallet this time.)

So, anyway, Newt thinks he can be forgiven if he...embellishes stuff a little when, for the first time in his whole long life, he finally spills the details to someone. Also, no way is he admitting the truth to Hermann of all people.

"There were a bunch of murders in the area at the time," he says, while Hermann, angled on his side next to him in bed, watches him raptly. It's kind of weird pillow talk, but their pillow talk rarely isn't weird. Usually Hermann will launch into a critique of Newt's latest pet theory before Newt's even caught his breath. At least he very courteously waited for Newt get a glass of water from the bathroom first this time. "Really brutal ones. Like, throats torn out, blood drained. Really nasty shit. Everyone was saying they were some kinda bizarre wolf pack attacks, but I knew better."

"Of course you did," Hermann says, running his hand down Newt's chest, and Newt can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not. (He has a feeling he is.)

"You bet," Newt says. "It took me months of, um, super hard research. Finally I hunted him down to this—" Newt debates the coolest lair possible of a vampire, and then remembers Lost Boys, which, even though he resents it slightly for totally stealing the vampire vibes he was going for, is still a kick-ass movie. "—this weird cave, where he lived. The king of the vampires. I won, obviously, but he fought back, and he managed to infect me just before I hammered the, um, the wooden stake into his heart."

"So courageous," Hermann says. He reaches up and tucks a piece of Newt's long hair back. Hermann being totally cool with the whole vampire thing, and maybe even possibly into the whole vampire thing, is probably the last thing in the world Newt expected from him. They're no strangers to hooking up during long late nights of science, but Newt swears it's gotten more frequent. "You must've been terrified."

"Nah," Newt says, though he remembers the glint of the flame off those yellow eyes, and he shivers. Hermann notices; his eyes, not yellow, but a warm shade of brown that makes Newt feel like he's being wrapped in a blanket, soften. If Newt could still blush, he would. "I'm—um—I'm pretty brave."

Newt hadn't exactly been planning on telling Hermann about the whole thing, but (last week) he had the very unfortunate timing of beginning a late-night dinner just as an oblivious Hermann strolled back into the lab to pick up his forgotten pair of glasses. To his credit, he only freaked out a little when he saw Newt draining a blood bag like a fucking Capri-Sun, and even then (after what felt like ten years of horrible, horrible silence) all he said was "You're the one who's been stealing those from medical?"

Look. Newt hasn't drank from a human being the entirety of his un-life, and he doesn't plan on it any time soon. He's...a vegetarian. Effectively. It's sort of the reason he picked up a medical degree along the way once he got tired of breaking into blood banks. Even if it's still a little ethically dubious to steal blood like that, at least he's not swooping around on unsuspecting people like that—goth asshole who swooped in on him did. (Newt's never managed to find out who he was—he suspects he was some sort of vampire drifter in town that night just to find a victim. And Newt just had to think with his dick at the worst possible time.)

Hermann tucks another strand of Newt's hair back. Newt also did not expect how fast Hermann became cool with the whole thing, but on the other hand, giant aliens are clawing their way out of the ocean on a bi-monthly basis these days. It's hard to be skeptical about most things. ("Well, it does make logical sense," Hermann had said with an eyeroll. "When you consider some of your rather more bizarre quirks, I mean. I ought to have guessed it ages ago. I suppose that's why you have that awful haircut," and that stung, because yeah, Newt hasn't felt like changing it up since the seventies, and why should he, it kinda rules? but he just laughed it off and said, "You're one to fucking talk, dude!") "Newton," Hermann says now, gently, "what actually happened?"

Newt sighs. Hermann always knows when he's lying about shit. "I was making out with a vampire in an alleyway and then he bit me. And—um—I kinda didn't notice at first, 'cause it felt... good."

"Mm," Hermann says. The corner of his mouth twitches up. "That's more along the lines of what I expected. That, or you were hounding him for details like a proper biologist and he got tired of answering your inane questions."

"Very funny," Newt says. "Ha."

Hermann rolls away from him and stretches his arms above his head. Newt watches his throat work as he yawns, swallowing down a sudden lump in his own, and he feels a surge of something hot and—alien—in the pit of his stomach. "Over forty years," Hermann says. He picks up Newt's discarded sweatshirt from the floor and tugs it down over his head. "You must get terrifically lonely."

Newt half-shrugs. "I guess. I'm kinda used to it by now." His dad (who never brought up how Newt's aging seemed to be at a standstill when they saw each other, not once) is long-gone. Newt's tried dating, but no one's ever seemed to be into it as much as he is—and besides, it's not like he could ever do the actual til death do us part thing unless he went against every ethical bone in his body and made someone like him. When the internet became a thing, he considered making a forum or something to find more of his kind, but the thought everyone just being like the guy who accidentally turned him in the first place terrified him and he killed the page before it even left infancy. So, without any better ideas, Newt forged some paperwork and leaned pretty hard into the world of academia to fill up his sad little hole of a heart, resigned himself to casual flings with anyone who seemed interested, and it mostly worked. Mostly. And then the kaiju came along, and then so did... "You make it a little bit better," he confesses.

Hermann lays back down next to him. "I do?" he says.

Newt thinks he sees something like that hot, hungry feeling he felt in his stomach flash behind Hermann's eyes. He nods.

Hermann suddenly kisses Newt, pulling him down on top of him, and then tugs the collar of Newt's stolen sweatshirt down below his collarbone. He drags Newt's hand up to press against his throat. Newt feels the erratic beat of Hermann's pulse beneath his fingertips, his heart pounding against his ribcage (pressed up against Newt's silent one), and he almost moans. "Have you ever...?" Hermann murmurs, gazing up at Newt through his dark eyelashes.

"N—never," Newt stammers. "I told you."

"Do you want to?" Hermann says. Newt tries not to gape. "Just a bit at a time, whenever you need. You wouldn't have to steal those silly blood bags anymore. And—" He hesitates. "I admit I am curious. About the sensation."

"Um," Newt says. "I—"

He feels something sharp poking his lower lip. Fangs. His fangs. Oh, shit, he's never had that happen before. He forces himself off of Hermann before he does something stupid.

"Maybe, um, maybe later?" he squeaks, while Hermann just smiles at him.