#i also wrote this at 6 am this morning

[ghouljams]

König with a voice kink... He's so used to the screams of war, so used to the dull drone of responding to orders, that the first time you groan over a stiff shoulder he's gone. He thinks about your voice with a hand around his heavy cock, he records you talking and plays it back for himself. You don't even have to say anything sexy, he listens to you discussing plans and remembers the way you murmured praises in his ear. He finds some shitty editing software for his phone and starts splicing his secret recordings together, just to hear you say things you'd otherwise never let him hear. He's obsessed. Tries to make your recorded voice his alarm but wakes up hard one too many times and switches back to the normal blare.

He can't sit through meetings with you without his dick getting hard under the table. It's really your fault for sounding so sweet, for being such a break from the screaming. If you didn't look at him like that when you talked he wouldn't be in this situation. If you think about it this should be flattering, you can reduce a man of his stature to begging with a few words, can get him drunk on the noise you make. You could use this fact to your advantage, if König wasn't so determined to fuck you like a dog in heat at the first sign of your interest.

[yunhoszn]

steamed milk

pairing choi san x f!reader word count 2.5k genres fluff﹒smut warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, not proofread, all lowercase bc i wrote this at 2 am… a week ago <3, barista!reader, barista!san, clumsy reader, mentions of burn scars?, mutual pining, little bit of power imbalance but it doesn’t play into the plot, escalates pretty fast, public sex, unprotected sex, cute fluffy moment at the end, may we get f’s in the chat for kim hongjoong’s desk chair

summary a closing shift with san is… interesting… to say the least.

more alright alright alright, i know i have a billion wips and a billion reqs to work on,,, but @bro-atz needed something to read on a flight and i needed an excuse to write with no plot in mind, solely based on vibes and this is what came out of it… i ALSO KNOW i’ve been withholding for a week but that’s bc i wasn’t sure if i wanted to keep this locked in the dungeon for a rainy day or not, until i remembered i should post something in honor of chellateez 🥳

@atzhouse @san-network

“did you burn yourself on the steam wand again, y/n?”

you bite your lip and turn away from hongjoong bashfully. so what if you’re a little clumsy, it’s not like you completely sucked at your job. maybe there were a few milk spills here and there. at least you knew what you were doing most of the time. 

“um, what would you do if i said no?” you scratch the back of your neck with the hand that wasn’t burned. hongjoong sighs, leaning back in his rolling chair. as the manager of a coffee shop, he did not get paid enough to babysit and coddle his employees like he usually did. 

between you almost always making a mess and then yunho and mingi goofing around whenever they were on shift together, he felt like he was starting to grow grey hairs. he shakes his head with a tsk, pulling out the first aid kit from one of the drawers in his desk. “let’s put some burn cream and a bandaid on it so you can hop back out. the dessert rush is about to begin.”

you nod and rock on the balls of your feet as you wait patiently. your manager dresses your burn and sends you on your way. the dessert rush, aside from the morning rush, was arguably the worst part of the day. shifts at the coffee shop were divided into thirds— open to mid, mid to evening, evening to close. while opens were the most busy, you at least got out early and could enjoy the rest of your day. mids were the slowest, but they took place midday so you couldn’t do much after you clocked off. 

closes were the worst, because they were so unpredictable. you weren’t ever sure if it was going to be busy, apart from the usual dessert rush, and that uncertainty bothered you. the beginning of your closing shift was staffed pretty well. there was yeosang, who was probably the best barista out of the lot of you, and seonghwa, a seasoned veteran in this game. he was your assistant manager. 

however, yeosang and seonghwa were off at 6 PM and the shop closed at 9 PM, leaving you and your lead for the night to close all by yourselves. and your lead? choi san. 

closing with san wouldn’t be such a problem if it weren’t for your massive crush on him. out of the other leads, san was the kindest. he didn’t lose his cool if your clumsy nature got the best of you during a hectic shift. in fact, he took his time to ensure everything was okay. he didn’t care if there were angry customers demanding that their drinks be made. his baristas were his number one priority. 

and well, with his appearance today, it would be more difficult than usual. donned in a white button up and some black slacks, his brown apron over, you think you’re going to faint. on a regular basis, san wore simple things like the occasional sweater or t-shirts and jeans, but this new look was making you all sorts of dizzy. you felt inferior beside him. (though technically, you were.)

with hongjoong, seonghwa, and yeosang leaving all at the same time, you were in a crisis. how were you supposed to survive this shift? it’s like the universe meticulously crafted this moment so it could laugh at you. and it all started with you burning yourself on that goddamn steam wand, while you were on bar with san of all people. 

“are you sure you don’t want me to send you home?” san asks lowly, making sure only you heard him. the two of you were finishing an order when he asked the question. 

“i couldn’t let you close by yourself.” you pout. as hard as it’s going to be working with him alone for three hours, you’d feel awful leaving him to fend for himself. 

“i can ask yeo or hwa to stay,” he shrugs, putting a lid on the iced vanilla latte in front of you. “i don’t want you to hurt yourself again.”

“i’ll be fine, san,” you reassure. “besides, seonghwa would probably kill me if i was the reason he had to stay later than he had to.”

san laughs a little, eyes scrunching up in the cute way they do when he smiles. your heart rate spikes and you have to take a deep breath to compose yourself. he nods as he turns to hand out the order. 

“if you insist.”

maybe you should’ve taken him up on that offer to go home. 

you’re too distracted by the way his rolled up sleeves strain against his muscular arms, staring a little too much. hongjoong just so happens to walk out of the back at that exact moment. he thinks your (very obvious) crush on san is funny, but not when the line is wrapped and you’re about to be down two men. 

“y/n, there’s five drinks waiting to be made,” he calls out, tapping on seonghwa and yeosang’s shoulders to let them know they can go. “what’s more important that has you standing there doing nothing?”

“sorry…” you apologize sheepishly, avoiding his gaze as you start on the next order; a dry cappuccino with cinnamon. great. another drink that required you using that godforsaken steam wand. a truly evil contraption. 

“i can be milk if you’d like?” san suggests suddenly, noticing your hesitation to steam the 2%. 

“if it’s not too much of an ask,” you frown. “i just don’t want to hold us back in the middle of a rush.”

“you don’t need to explain yourself to me, y/n,” he quickly swaps places with you. “i think you’re pretty damn good with a portafilter anyway.”

it’s a stupid compliment. only another barista would even know what that meant, but you take it to heart. your body flushes with warmth as you tamp the espresso grounds and pull a shot viable enough to use for the cappuccino. you’re a little shaky as you pour it into the paper cup and wait for san to pour the milk. 

this was the closest you’d get to flirting with san, and it was him telling you that you were actually good at your job. what a sad life you lived. 

thankfully, you manage to bulldoze through the line with just the two of you. in times like these, your solution is to go nonverbal and lock in. if you talk while you’re making drinks, you get distracted too easily and you find it’s harder to multitask. after the rush, things are slow for the most part and then it’s just you, san, and the sound of cafe music playing quietly over the speakers at 9 PM. 

“y/n, can i ask you a question?” san inquires, counting the till as you wipe down the espresso machine and the bar around it. 

“what’s up?” you hum, refolding your rag. he shuts the register and walks over to you, leaning on the bar adjacent to the one you were at. 

“i’m curious, and you don’t have to answer if you’re uncomfortable, but i’ve heard that you like me. is that true?” it comes out so politely, you’re not even sure you heard him correctly. you blink as the words process in your brain. this was the end. now you really wished you went home early. 

“well— um— i don’t know how to answer that…” you fiddle with your fingers, looking everywhere but at san. 

“all i want is a yes or no, because truth is,” he walks closer and closer until he’s directly in front of you. “i have a little crush on you myself.”

“you what?!” you don’t mean to sound so shocked, so appalled even, because he takes a step back, eyes widened by your outburst. you’re just so confused. choi san liked you? like, liked you?

“i’ll take that as a—“

“no!” you stand upright, grabbing his wrist. when you realize what you’ve done, you immediately let go. “i mean, no, as in yes. i do like you, san. i was just… embarrassed… that you found out from elsewhere instead of me. and i’m a little in disbelief that you feel the same.”

“why’s that?” his head tilts to the side a bit. “what’s not to like about you?”

“for starters, i’m the biggest klutz on the planet.” you huff, but that makes his smile grow wider. 

“i think that’s your charming point,” he admits, hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks. “while i don’t enjoy seeing you hurt, like when you burned yourself earlier, i do think it’s kinda cute when you accidentally knock over a drink.”

“are you okay in the head? were you dropped on it as a baby?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. he laughs, this time a full on laugh that has him bringing a fist up to his mouth. you think you just shed a tear. and not from your eyes. 

“i don’t believe so. i guess i’m just attracted to people who aren’t afraid of being themselves,” he shrugs, reaching out to take your hand into his. “and you check all the boxes.”

remember the whole fainting thing? that’s about to come true. you manifested it. 

san brings your knuckles up to his lips, first kissing over the bandaid where your burn was and then all over the back of your hand. you stand there like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing but no words escaping you. was the universe… rewarding you somehow?

“how often does joong check the cameras?” you gasp when his kisses have moved from your hand to your neck. he doesn’t break contact, speaking into your skin as he unties your apron. 

“almost never, but you have a point.”

this is how you end up on san’s lap in hongjoong’s office chair, fingers tangled in each other’s hair, lips locked like no tomorrow. he was a fantastic kisser, which just further proved your theory that he was the perfect human being. along with the subtle flirting, and the obvious knack for respecting boundaries, it’s almost like the universe had hand crafted choi san to be the ideal man. and they say chivalry is dead. pft, san’s existence dispels that notion undoubtedly. 

“he won’t know, right?” you pant, arching into him when he sucks at a particular part on the base of your throat. he hums. 

“you’re worrying too much,” san’s fingers slip under your top, digging into your waist. “i promise, he won’t find out. but we’ve gotta be quick since he’ll know what time we left.”

“m’kay,” you sigh, grinding down on his lap to help speed things along. the undressing process is a blur. you wish you could spend more time admiring his bare chest and arms, especially because you’d been fantasizing about this moment for almost an entire year now. 

“god, you’re so gorgeous, y/n,” he murmurs, reconnecting your lips sweetly. his hands massage the sides of your thighs as you hover over him, preparing to sink down on his cock. “i finally have you all to myself.”

you whine when you do, his words encouraging your arousal. the intrusion has you moaning softly, eyes squeezing shut from the sheer pleasure streaming through your veins. your nails scrape his shoulders and back, toes curling. the tip of his dick grazes that sensitive spot deep in your cunt with ease, as if he was made to be inside of you. 

“feels— fuck— feels so good, san,” you whimper, head falling to the crook of his neck. san chuckles, albeit a little strained. his hands remain in your hips, aiding your movement so you don’t get too tired. 

“is that right, sweetheart?” he says into your ear, nipping the lobe gently. “you’re taking me so well.” 

his praise shoots straight to your core, punching another moan out of you. you really shouldn’t be surprised that he’s inching you towards the edge of that familiar tide so fast. it’s san, and like you’ve stated before, he’s damn near perfect. but holy shit, the way he’s fucking you has you thinking that there is such a thing as heaven. 

you have to bite down on his collarbone to stop yourself from screaming like a fucking pornstar, leaving a myriad of marks on his skin to restrain the ferality threatening to jump out of you. every drag of his cock on your velvety walls drives you just a little more insane each time. 

he’s moving so slow, but so deep all at once, and it’s just the right combination to decorate the backs of your eyelids in stars and colored spots. his ring and middle fingers meet your swollen clit, circling with practiced pressure. the office chair squeaks awfully with each of your bounces on his lap, but you’re too close to pay it any mind. instead, you drown it out with your own noises— warnings of your impending orgasm. 

“gonna cum— my god, san, i’m—!” you don’t even finish your sentence, the tide finally reaching the shore. your orgasm washes over you hard and unlike any other you’ve ever experienced before. you aren’t sure if he’s just that good, or if it’s because it’s san. (most likely a combination of both.) 

san coos, guiding you through the peak of your climax. once you’ve calmed considerably, you slide him out of you and stroke his cock until he’s painting the inside of your thighs with milky white and a groan. his face screws up in pleasure, eyes fluttered shut and brows knit together. his lashes kiss the tops of his cheeks and you think you’ve just fallen in love, for real. 

his chest rises and falls as he attempts to catch his breath. you can’t help placing a hand over the left side to feel the rapidity of his heartbeat, smiling to yourself. he mirrors your expression after a moment, leaning up to press a sensual kiss to your lips. 

“as fun as this was, and as much as i like the view right now, it’d be better if i could actually take you out after this… and if i could fuck you somewhere nicer than on our manager’s desk chair.” san bites at the inside of his lip, glancing down at the rolling chair beneath you. 

“i agree,” you giggle, brushing his hair from his face. “hongjoong’s office isn’t the ideal location for a first date or first time sleeping together. but at least we’ll have a fun story to tell our kids.”

san bursts into laughter at that. “our kids, huh? you’ve thought that far ahead?”

“i’ve had a crush on you since i got hired, choi san, what do you think?” you raise an eyebrow, booping his nose with your index finger. he scrunches it up with a grin. 

“i think that i’ve had a crush on you just as long. and if we’re having kids, it’s best to omit some details when we retell this story.” 

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[feyascorner]

6 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. You remember how the sunlight glistened against his skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.

It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.

With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press the sharp end against the tip of your finger.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. 6.4k words,,,tav is better than me i would've thrown hands like twelve years ago,,,I HAVE NO IDEA HOW I WROTE THIS IN LIKE TWO DAYS???? also thank you for all your comments they really motivate me to write!! so have this monster of a chapter early as thanks!!

"You'll kill them, Astarion," you mumble. "They might not have had the power to help you, but they're still your siblings. I don't want them to die hating you."

"They're not my siblings--not really. I don't care what they think of me. Hells, they could haunt me even in the afterlife, as annoying as that would be, but they're no innocents either. They've brought in as many souls as I have," he responds, his jaw visibly clenching at the thought. "I don't care if all seven thousand of them die hating me as long as you're here."

And while you feel flattered, you can't disregard the worry driving a hole through your conscience. Ever perceptive, he lifts a hand to brush stray strands of hair out of your face, his fingertips tracing your jaw. His voice is but a hushed whisper.

"You understand, don't you, my love? It would set me free--after two hundred years of forcing myself through hell--I can finally free myself from Cazador," his tone sours at just the mention of his master's name, and he intertwines his fingers with yours, drawing your attention back to him.

"It is what you want for me, no? For me to be happy?"

It is what you want. Just not like this.

Music was your way of releasing the mountain of feelings you kept locked away in your chest, waiting for the right person to recognize them for what they are. You’d hoped someone would understand the meaning behind your lyrics without you telling them outright, and they’d know what it truly meant to you. And for a while, you’d believed Astarion would be the key to this safe.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

“While I usually entertain your certainly out-of-the-box plans, this is bordering on just foolish, I’m afraid,” Gale sighs, eyes tracing you as you pace around the house, stuffing every possible weapon and healing potion into a brown sack. Despite his insistence, you ignore him, testing the blade of a knife against the edge of the table. It’s not entirely dull, nor is it sharper than the dagger in your drawer, but it’ll have to do. “Simply charging into the tavern won’t do much good if you’ll be overwhelmed in number anyway.”

“I know what I’m doing, Gale,” you hiss, snatching an Alchemist’s Fire and shoving it a tad too hard into your bag. He tenses. “If they want to talk to me so badly, then I’m not waiting around for them to attack another one of my friends—I’ll go to them.”

“Yes, your determination is certainly praise-worthy, but can we please just sit down and think this through before running into a battlefield with a few knives? This is basically a suicide mission.”

“The wizard is right, even if it’s hard to believe,” Lae’zel announces from the corner of the room, wiping a cloth on her sword. “When I arrived, they’d already fled. They could be anywhere by now, and they’ve had more than enough time to plan another ambush if we were to charge now. We must be smart about this. I am a warrior, but I am no fool.”

“I’ll go by myself,” you say, a sense of finality in your voice. “They already showed what they’d do if someone they didn’t want to talk to approached them. I’ll just talk to them.”

Gale stares with lidded eyes. “So why are you packing so many explosives, exactly?”

“...Precaution?”

Silence befalls the room, and you take it as a sign to finish your preparations. All you can hear is the crackling of the fireplace and the rain falling against the windows of the home. The lot of you had somehow managed to stabilize Shadowheart by the time Lae’zel returned, and while she’d been conscious earlier, you insisted she rest before she consumed herself with the investigation again. You didn’t miss the way she limped back to her room with little to protest against you.

“Take the spawn with you.”

Two jaws drop at the words, the only one remaining fixed belonging to Lae’zel.

“The kainyank is living here to help. Not cause more problems for us. And so far, he’s only done one of the two things, and I’m dangerously close to turning to my blade if he doesn’t choose otherwise,” she says. “The spawn are searching for him, too. If blood breaks out, you must use him to flee safely.”

Gale blinks. “As in…use him as a body shield?”

“What else is he good for?”

While the wizard seems positively appalled, you can see the contemplation flicker in his eyes before he shakes his head. He's always been more considerate than the rest of you. “No, Tav would never agree to such a-”

“Okay.”

They both whip their heads toward you, and you avoid their piercing gazes, staring down at the dull blade in your hand. “It might help, too, if we find out why they want him. There are nearly 3000 spawns in the city—we can’t kill all of them, at least not immediately. It’d be best if we convinced them to leave, and the best way of doing that is to understand what they want in the first place.”

Lae’zel narrows her eyes. “Then you must swear it. Swear that if Astarion were to face risks, you will leave him behind. If he were to turn on you, you slice through his throat without a second of hesitation. He is there to aid you–nothing else.”

“I will,” the words feel hot on your tongue.

And so, you soon find yourself standing in front of his door, hand reaching for the door handle. There’s a slight pause right as you touch the cool metal, but you bite your tongue and shove it open, praying he’s still not as ravenous as he was a few hours ago. And much to your surprise, he appears wholly composed.

He lowers his book to his lap, eyes training themselves on you as they dart from your bag and then back to your face. The window’s wide open, bathing him in the moonlight, with dark curtains tied to the wall to keep them from obscuring his view of the city. He raises a brow. “What could you possibly want from me at two in the morning? Come here for a cuddle?”

You’re scowling again.

“I need you-”

“I’m flattered, but I fear you may stab a butter knife into my eye, so I’ll have to decline.”

“Not like that.” Your frown creases deeper at his smug grin. “We’re going to the Blushing Mermaid to find the spawn.”

“Just us?”

“They want to see us.”

“And if I refuse?”

The answer is almost immediate, cutting through the atmosphere like a knife on bread. “I hear the bloody bedrolls in the Duke’s dungeon are very comfortable.”

He drops his smile at this, and a tiny spark of pride puffs your chest. He seems to weigh his choices before snapping his book shut and standing from the bed, snatching a comb from his bedside table before pacing up to you, pocketing it behind him.

"A comb?"

He shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, I doubt you’ll be giving me a weapon of any sort, so I must make do.”

You don’t correct him.

As the two of you make your way downstairs, you hear your other companions speaking.

“I didn’t expect you of all people to defend Astarion,” Gale says in disbelief, still comprehensive as Lae’zel poorly cuts up slices of an apple.

“I am doing no such thing, istik,” she mutters. “I am giving him a choice. Either to pick up his dead weight and prove his life is worth more than the dirt on my shoes or die at my hand.”

The walk to the Blushing Mermaid is painfully awkward. To you, anyway, because he seems positively unbothered the entire time. Seeing him leisurely follow behind you is irritating—and it bothers you more than you’d like to admit.

By the time you survey the area around the tavern, you’ve discerned they must be inside, considering there are no ambushes awaiting your arrival. While it’s a relief, it also increases the anxiety of what lies inside the tavern itself, and you confirm your knives are at your disposal if it were ever to come to that. You sincerely hope it doesn’t. Astarion sighs dramatically for the umpteenth time as you approach the front doors, and you finally snap to look at him with a glare.

“Will you stop breathing so damn loud?”

The change in your attitude toward him is apparent, but he doesn't seem to care. If anything, he seems more pleased with you than he was before every time you shoot him an annoyed glance or something along those lines. He responds with lazy answers, but it's better than the bitter ones he gave you before.

You're not terribly surprised, though. He's always loved pissing people off for his own entertainment, and it would be an understatement to say that he's been somewhat successful with you.

“I’m not breathing, my dear. I don’t need to, remember?”

“Then what is your problem?” you hiss between your teeth. “Are you trying to wake up the entire city with your insistent groaning?”

“Must we do this tonight, of all days? Couldn’t this wait till tomorrow?”

“No!” you say in exasperation. “That gives them too much time to heal and recover from Shadowheart and Gale. It has to be tonight, just in case they do decide to fight—then we’ll have an easier time because, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s just us two!”

He sighs again, and you swear you might pluck a strand of his hair for good measure. And just as you shove past him and reach for the door, he clears his throat again. Loudly.

“For God’s sake, what?” you nearly yell.

He smiles at you, pointing at the front door. “Well, if we’re looking to avoid an ambush, perhaps we should find another way in than the main entrance. Unless my prior knowledge as a rogue proceeds me.”

You blink. You recognize the validity of his statement and feel your face flare, and you immediately march past him again—the other way this time—and search for the nearest wall you can climb up to the roof. You hear him snicker, but you do your best to ignore it. 

Somehow, you manage to climb in through the window, admittedly a lot louder than him, but you don’t think it’s fair to compare yourself to him when he has footsteps lighter than a child’s. Hidden behind one of the tables, you peer into the rest of the tavern, which is completely empty save for the bottles of alcohol scattered everywhere. You turn to signal to him that the coast is clear, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Immediately, your face drains of color.

“Right here, darling.”

He drops down from seemingly thin air, and you gasp, nearly letting out a shriek if it weren’t for your hand covering your mouth. He grins at that.

Bastard.

“There’s nobody in the entire building–at least, not visible to the eye,” he confirms, glancing around the room.

“How do you know that?”

He points at the ceiling, and your eyes follow it. “Someone decided to build such useful beams on the roof. You can see the entire place from up there. Care to take a look?”

While you would have thanked him if he had been any other person, you only march straight by him. “Don’t do anything without telling me first.”

“No ‘thanks, Astarion’?” He quirks a brow but huffs when you ignore him. “Very well then, my liege. No need to acknowledge a humble servant such as I. But I shall let you know when I’m about to take any questionable decision.”

You’re starting to wonder if his presence is worth the headache it gives you.

Pacing around the tavern, it seems all too normal. No blood splatters against the wall, no broken chairs—hells, even the booze cups look clean, which is a rarity for the Blushing Mermaid. You check each room, inspecting down to the last cups in case there are traces of blood in them, but to no avail.

It’s like there was never anyone here.

“You look like you’re having trouble, my dear,” Astarion clicks his tongue mockingly, leaning back in one of the more luxurious chairs he’s decided is his own.

“Considering the only company I decided to bring along is lounging around like a bum, I’m not surprised,” you say back, now searching the smallest cracks in the walls for some sort of secret passage. It’s strange. Even though your companions had spoken of the bodies they encountered when facing the spawn, there’s not a single speck of blood in sight. Neither is there anything outside but the whistle of the wind.

“This particular wall must be quite fascinating.”

You fight the need to groan and whip around to snap at him, but he’s suddenly just a foot away from you, staring at the spot you’d been squinting at. Gods, you hate how quiet he is when he walks.

“As wonderful as it is getting a fresh breath of air,” he feigns disappointment with a half-hearted sigh, turning to walk toward the entrance. “I believe we’ve done what we can. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d love to return to my book–”

The wooden floor underneath him creaks. It sounds hollow.

As if there’s something underneath.

“The basement,” you blink, eyes wide. “The hag’s lair.”

He stares at you as if you’ve taken too many mushrooms. “It was sealed up after we rid of that dreadful woman. Good riddance, too, I mean, I’m not particularly fond of children, but eating them, even I wouldn’t be able–”

You rush toward the very corner of the tavern, sensing that he’s following you regardless of his obvious distaste toward your decision. There, you push against a table perched on top of the basement latch and test its locks.

It’s open.

“Heavens, it reeks here. How didn’t I smell it before?”

“Of what?” You sniff the air. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Blood, my dear. Fairly recent, too, if my judgment hasn’t gotten rusty in the time I’ve spent cooped up in that room,” he pauses. “And I haven’t gotten rusty, to be clear.”

“Right,” you retort, reaching down to pull the latch open. You don’t see him do the same, and you glance at him quizzically.

“Gods no,” he says, when he realizes why you’re staring. “I’m doing no such thing that ruins these nails.”

You sigh. Loudly.

The latch opens relatively easily, but you make an effort not to simply swing it open in fear the occupants inside might be warned of your arrival. You prop the trap door open against a chair and begin your descent down the stairs, remaining as silent as possible.

The first thing you can notice is that he’d been right.

The stench of blood burns in your nose, and you immediately cover it with your sleeve to avoid inhaling anymore. You’ve smelt enough of your companion’s blood today, and you’d rather not continue the streak with the blood of complete strangers. Astarion, however, frowns.

“Such a waste,” he mumbles.

When you turn to where he’s looking, there’s a pile of bodies—poor victims, no doubt—lying over a puddle of their collective blood mixing with one another. It almost feels inhumane to leave them that way, just hours after their death, as if they’re cattle to be used.

Though, in this case, they are cattle.

“Are you sure it’s them?”

“I’m telling you it is!”

“Where’s their lyre, then?”

“How would I know that?”

You locate the source of the whispers instantly, reaching for one of your daggers as your eyes bore into the corners of the lair that are obscured from your view. Astarion steps forward before you can figure out a plan to approach them, arrogance exuding from his very body as he holds nothing but the comb tucked in his back pocket. “We can hear you, you fools. Come out before I lose my patience.”

“What are you doing?” you hiss.

“They’re only a few spawns, my dear. Nothing like Cazador—no need to be so cautious.”

You open your mouth to protest, but a woman emerges from the shadows, her eyes trained on your own as she marvels at your mere presence. You realize she’s not alone as multiple vampires begin to emerge from different corners of the room, all a safe distance away but not enough to ease the nerves jittering in your stomach. She steps toward you. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

Another spawn steps beside her, and you immediately notice how ravenous he seems, eyes almost glistening with hunger as they bore straight into you. The woman puts a hand on his neck, seemingly soothing him, before he slumps his shoulders again, but the pure violence swirling in his head doesn’t seem to vanish. She then looks to Astarion, and the expression on her face morphs into something more akin to dread. “And you, brother.”

“Dalyria.” Astarion only stares with lidded eyes, visibly unfazed.

You instinctively scan the entire lair, searching for any differences you can spot since the last time you were here. The only glaring thing besides the bodies piled in the corner is the study desk on the other side of the room, scattered with different potions and concoctions. Behind the desk is an entire wall plastered with diagrams—most of which study the anatomy and functionality of what you can only determine to be a vampire judging from the fangs. There are also beds everywhere—though they look like they could collapse any second—and the room almost looks like a hospital.

The atmosphere between the siblings is so uncomfortable you’d think they’ll start attacking one another any second.

“Is Leon here?” you finally cut through, lowering your hand away from your blade. “I need to speak with him—technically, all of you.”

“How curious. We were hoping to speak with you as well,” she says, motioning all the other spawn to stand down. It does little to ease you. “By all means, feel free to go first.”

You take the opportunity, too exhausted, to demonstrate polite etiquette. “The spawn are causing too much trouble in the city, Dalyria. They’re killing too many people, and it’s getting noticed by more than enough people. At this rate, you’ll lose some of your own if the Fist figure out how you guys are hiding throughout the city.”

“...Yes, I’m aware.”

The resignation in her voice makes your throat bob, but you continue anyway. “I’m saying we need to get you guys somewhere more stable. Whether it be the Underdark or elsewhere, we can’t have you staying here.”

“I see,” she says slowly. “I appreciate you trying to talk this out with us, but I’m afraid I cannot grant your request.”

Your shoulders tense, and you can see Astarion shift beside you. “You don’t understand, sister. There’s going to be an outright war at this rate-”

“Baldur’s Gate is our home as well, Astarion. You, of all people, should know this,” she demands. “We have a right to remain here, and if the Fist insists on forcing us out, we have no choice but to retaliate.”

“But you’re killing the city off!” you gawk in disbelief, unable to believe what you’re hearing.

“We’re surviving,” she corrects, the corners of her lips turning downward. “Surely you can’t hate us for that.”

“Then…” you blink at her, positively appalled at her words. “Why the hells did you need to speak with me? What was worth putting my companion through hell?”

“...There is a way—for both parties to benefit.” She looks down at her hands, then back up at you. “I didn’t expect the both of you to come together. Our informants were correct when they claimed to see Astarion in your possession. In all honesty, we technically only needed one of you, but this makes things a lot quicker.”

Confused but desperately wanting an answer, you urge her to continue. Only you can see the way Astarion’s hand slips toward his pocket, where his comb lies.

“We were going to ask you to bring him to us, you see. But it appears you’ve already done the hard part.”

The dreaded intuition in the back of your mind tells you something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

“Me? What do you need me for?” he scowls.

She disregards him and continues speaking to you, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “If you turn him over to us, you’ll never have to see him again. That is what you want, yes?”

Both you and the pale elf freeze.

“I watched as my brother nearly killed you the day of the ritual,” she continues. “I understand how you feel being betrayed by someone you thought shared your pain. And I believe this is a way to relieve you of that pain—and finally move onto a new stage of your life.”

She acts as if Astarion is the only thing holding you from moving on from the past few months of your life. And if she’d said so a week ago, you would have nothing to defend yourself with. But you’ve cut the few strings left that tie yourself to him. You remind yourself that you no longer care for him, regardless of the slight squeeze in your chest. You’ve already sworn to force yourself to disregard him, and you want to say all these things to her, but nothing comes out. So, instead, you keep your mouth sealed.

Astarion scoffs from beside you.

“For God’s sake, please tell me you’re not actually considering this. Let’s just force the madwoman out and go,” his voice attempts to stay firm, but it’s high-pitched at the end. He’s panicking.

You don’t respond to him, and he stiffens. “...My main concern is the city. If you think you can use my personal matters to convince me to just let you keep killing all these people–”

“That matter will resolve itself in its own time. We’ll return to the Underdark—or wherever it is you wish, and you won’t have to spend your nights hunting us down anymore.”

With a dry throat, you fixate your gaze on her face, desperately trying to discern any hint of a crack in her mask. Instead, you find nothing. “Why would you do that? For one spawn?”

“I’m afraid that’s for me and my siblings to know. But I can promise you that no harm will come to you if you take this deal.”

For what seems like the millionth time this month, you have no idea what to do. Lae’zel’s words flood you like a wave crashing onto shore as you remind yourself that Astarion is here not as your ally but as a shield. If things are as Dalyria says, simply turning over the man standing next to you would end this entire ordeal. You could return to your everyday life of repairing the city, learning to heal and grow from the terrors of the illithid invasion. You could learn to let people in again.

You could learn to play music again in hopes of finding the person you dreamed would understand.

Such an enticing, perfect deal. It’s almost too perfect. But you’ve learned not to trust perfection, especially when handed to you by a vampire spawn.

Astarion, who had been observing your expression this whole time, almost seems to read your mind. Or perhaps he’s just feeling selfish, ready to defend himself. “You’ve created a lot of problems for me, dear sister. I’ve gotten accused of your own murders, thanks to your pets.”

The delirious spawn, who’d looked sluggish after Dalyria’s soothing, now bares his teeth at Astarion. Dalyria attempts to calm him again, but it’s no use. The bloodthirst cannot be satiated unless there’s blood spilled on his very hands.

Astarion doesn’t seem to take a hint—or maybe he does but chooses to simply ignore it. “I’ve always known you were strange, Dalyria, but really? Experimenting with your ‘useless procedures’ on fresh spawns? He looks positively possessed, sister. He might just resort to eating you instead.”

“They are not useless, Astarion,” she snaps. “I am a doctor. I’m only curing what needs to be cured.”

“Then tell me why you haven’t managed to cure yourself of our curse? You may be intelligent in medical aspects, but gods above, you are more foolish than Cazador himself if you really think you can cure vampirism.”

“I had nobody to test my ideas on for two centuries, Astarion! Now that I do, surely I can-”

“You’re starving them, Dalyria,” he snaps, tone drastically different from the banter you shared just minutes ago. “And they’ll give into the thirst sooner or later.”

His words are the final straw.

The spawn who’d been standing beside her launches himself toward you. Before you can even register what’s happening, his fangs are at your throat, your neck tilted so it shoots pain up your side. Just as you feel your skin split at the tips of his canines, Astarion rips him away from you so harshly that the spawn flies helplessly into the wall, which crumbles under his weight. Dust flies into your eyes, and you cough, wiping at them until it clears just enough to see Dalyria staring in horror.

“I told you, Dalyria. You are no doctor, not anymore,” Astarion scoffs, eyes narrowed into slits. “And I’m afraid I can’t let you kill my liege here, as I’d much hate to be trapped in a cell somewhere underground.”

You reach the specks of blood drops forming on your neck, horrified by the close encounter you had with death just seconds ago. The culprit of your injury lies unconscious beside the cracked wall, and you wonder just how hard he had to be thrown to be rendered in such a state. You can see the other spawns’ eyes practically glow at the sight of your blood—fresh, unlike the pile of corpses on the other side of the room.

She turns to you, desperation pouring from the wavering of her voice. “Please, don’t make me do this. Don’t make us enemies. All you need to do is give us Astarion. My brother, for heaven's sake!”

You think better of it. Something that obviously pleases Astarion if the way his face relaxes tells you anything.

“May I?” he glances at you.

Surely, there are ways–more civilized ways–-than drawing your blade, but the ferocious growling from the rest of the spawn tells you otherwise. You need to find out why she needs Astarion so badly, and clearly, she’s not willing to tell you unless it’s through pure force. You despise the idea as much as you despise the predicament you’re in, but you refuse to be attacked and deliver nothing back.  Just as you nod to his question, another spawn lunges, unable to resist the red staining your neck.

But it’s smart this time, choosing to eliminate any threats before turning to the full course. In this case, the only thing between you and the vampires is another vampire.

“Brother!” Dalyria shouts, horrified.

You don't bother calling his name, only barely manage to tackle Astarion out of the way before the spawn’s claw sinks into the very ground he was standing on just seconds ago.

As embarrassing as it is to practically crash on top of him, both of you wince because it’s more painful than anything. You force yourself up with your arms, and it’s then that you see even more spawn crawling from whatever shadows they hid in, and you realize you are terribly and most definitely outnumbered. By a lot. 

“Dalyria, if you’re truly a doctor, do something! Stop them, godsdammit!” you shriek in her direction.

“They’re not—they were doing so well!...” she gasps before she reaches for a tattered journal and desperately files through its pages in a frenzy. “They were nearly docile before. I don’t know why–”

You feel Astarion’s hands slip out of the sack you carry on your back, realizing you hadn’t even noticed him opening it. He’s still lying flat on the ground, and you look down at him, puzzled before he laughs bitterly.

“I’ll be borrowing this for a few minutes, darling.”

You barely dodge another spawn that comes flying at you, rolling off of him and practically slamming into the wall. And before you can crawl away, your knife—in Astarion’s hand—stabs through the spawn’s left eye through the back of their head, specks of their blood splattering against your cheek.

You want to throw up.

“No, don’t harm them! Please, just let us go!” Dalyria pleads, but you’re finished being patient with her. She clearly has no way of calming the spawn, and you’re tired of being thrown around like a ragdoll in the mess that is the lair.

You yank out the Alchemist’s Fire and chuck it at the nearest cluster of spawn—around 2 or 3—and flinch as the vial collides and explodes into flames right before your eyes, blowing your hair out of your face in a gust of smoke and wind. You swear you hear Astarion cackle in utter glee at the destruction, but you choose not to dwell on it, too busy figuring out how else you could get out of here alive.

“You’re ruining the patients!” Dalyria screams, and you almost regret not throwing the vial at her instead.

“Your spawn are the ones attacking us!”

Suddenly, her face goes impossibly pale, and you hear a hiss of pain from a few feet away. Astarion winces as one of the spawn claws at his chest leaves behind a reasonably deep wound following the path of their sharp nails. Your knife is kicked away from him, and you hear Dalyria again just as he reaches for the comb instead. “Brother, be careful!”

You’re not sure if she wants you and Astarion dead or not, but it’s seriously giving you backlash at this point.

He stabs the comb into the spawn’s neck and kicks him away, and you take the opportunity to send the knife he dropped through the air.

By some miracle, it pierces straight through the spawn’s arm. Astarion lets out a breathy laugh from the floor, attention glued to your handiwork. “Ha! And to think that could have been me!”

And while you want to admire your aim yourself, there’s no time. Dalyria’s footsteps rush up the stairs, out of the basement, and you realize you need to follow moments after Astarion, who’s already fleeing up the steps, cursing under his breath. “That demented wench!”

You stand to follow after him, but the remaining spawns are already blocking your way. There are only two more, but you brace yourself for the worst, reaching for whatever remaining weapons you have left in your sack. The smoke and debris feel suffocating in your lungs, but you have no choice but to push through, praying to whatever God you can remember at the moment that this be the last time you have to fight this many vampire spawn. Or any, for that matter.

You wish you had left your fighting days behind you when you defeated the elder brain, but you suppose even that was too much to ask for.

You arrive just in time to see the sunrise.

Lying against a wall is Astarion, who you find just before the sunlight hits the part of the ground he’s on. He’s clutching his shoulder, which drips with his own blood, and showing no signs of the quick vampire regeneration. You stare down at him, face stoic as you wait for him to say something.

Judging from his condition, you assume Dalyria got away.

“Leaving me to die here would be unwise,” he scoffs. “Though it’d be rather easy to let me burn to death in the sun, I must remind you that I much rather prefer decapitation if it’s all the same to you.” 

“I’ll consider it,” you reply curtly. "Can't promise anything, though."

He leans his head back, amused. The sunlight is just a few feet away now, and you wonder how long it's been since he's been outside to watch the sunrise. “You’ve always had a cruel streak in you. I just had to lure it out, sometimes, but when it did come out—Gods, you should have seen it yourself.”

“You’re delirious,” you remind him, observing just how much blood he’s losing. You remind yourself of your resentment when worry probes a small part of your heart. One that you hope dies soon. “Why aren’t you healing?”

“I haven’t been exactly feeding well, unfortunately. And days old boar’s blood can only sustain me so long, darling,” he lulls his head forehead, sneering to himself. “Now that I think about it, dying by sunlight sounds rather poetic, don’t you think? Perhaps you can make a song about my glorious death.”

He’s definitely unhinged from blood loss.

You sigh, tossing his arm over your shoulder as you deem the sunlight a bit too close now. It’s a slow process with your own body’s soreness, but you manage to drag him to a more shaded area, propping him against the wall there so that you can rummage through your sack for a healing potion. You stop when his hand latches onto your arm.

“What?” you frown.

“It won’t help. I need blood, my dear.”

“There’s none for you here.”

“The bodies in the basement,” he bites back a groan, more blood gushing out of his shoulder. “I can make use of them--give their deaths a sense of purpose."

The displeasure on your face must be apparent because he laughs.

You pause, lowering the sack onto the ground. While you’re illuminated by the sunlight now, he remains in the shadow of the building, only able to see the sun with how it reflects off of your skin. And you find that he’s no longer looking at you but looking past you into the glowing orb you call the sun. You remember how its light glistened against his own skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.

It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.

With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press its tip against the tip of your finger.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”

His eyes widen, and the temptation is more than evident with how his mouth falls open as if he tastes your blood from a few inches away. But as fast as it had come, he tears his eyes away. “I’m not taking your blood.”

“Stop with your prideful act, Astarion. You’re going to bleed out.”

“I wouldn’t die, exactly. I would just remain unconscious until I can properly heal myself.”

You spare him a long, hard stare. He refuses to look at you, biting the inside of his cheek to ignore the scent of your blood. And it's painfully clear he's failing.

You have no idea why he's so insistent on avoiding your blood, but you refuse to spend your own time pondering it.

“Fine then.”

He watches in utter loss as you lick the blood off of your finger, shrugging. “Bleed out for all I care.”

You turn to stand, but his hand latches on your arm once more. You’re not sure if you’re imagining how warm he feels, but you think you must be. He's always been terribly cold.

“Do you hate me now?” he asks again, this time staring up at you through his lashes. “Have I finally run through your patience?”

The question remains the same as he asked you a week ago, but it feels different now. This time, you know your answer, and it feels so, so relieving. You just wish you could understand his own feelings, but his expression is so superficial you don’t even attempt it.

“Yes,” you reply blankly. “I hate you.”

He takes a moment to process your words. You have to admit it’s satisfying to say it to his face, even if your hatred for him is new. But perhaps because it’s new is why you feel it so strongly, and you silently thank it for how confident you sound saying the words. Even if they taste bitter. You think he might have some quip to respond with, but he only smiles, and as usual, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You never want to see it again.

Without another word, he pulls you down to him, and you nearly topple over before stabilizing yourself with either of your knees on either side of his legs. He breathes against your neck, and you think he might drink from you until you feel his fingers brush against your nape. Immediately, your body freezes like a deer in headlights, flinching at his touch as your mind involuntarily forces the last memories you have of his hands on your neck.

And ever so perceptive, he notices how you recoil from his touch.

You hate your body for reacting the way it does out of fear. Not the disgust or the anger, but something much more pathetic, and you want to go back on your own actions to stop yourself from appearing so weak to him. You think he might tease you--taunt you, even, but he stops, slowly pulling away and lowering his head from the crook between your shoulder and head.

You’re unable to see his face, but his movements seem more sluggish.

Instead of going for your neck, he lifts your wrist, brushing his lips against it before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.

Despite the initial sting, it’s a feeling you’ve grown accustomed to over time. With him, it had always felt so intimate. It’s why you can’t help but feel heat bloom across your cheeks before you remind yourself you no longer care for him. Only when you think he’s drinking a bit too long do you try to pull away, but his arm loops around your waist, bringing you even closer as the amount of blood he’s taking increases with how deep his fangs are.

You feel so cold, yet heat burns through your very blood. It makes your head dizzy, and you take it as a sign that he’s had enough.

You only manage to speak a few seconds later, breathless. “Astarion.”

He pulls away, seemingly out of breath himself as he releases his hold on the rest of your body. He runs his tongue over the access, staining the side of his mouth. He uses his finger to make sure the rest is off his face. “I know.”

He rarely feeds so messily, so you discern he wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t been drinking well. Knowing he wasn’t deceiving you brings little relief, but it’s still a welcome feeling. Rubbing at your wrist and the two puncture wounds now residing there, you stand up and slug your sack over your shoulder. He watches you the entire time, and you hate that you can never seem to read his expressions—only one, and that’s whenever he claims to despise your very existence.

His shoulder has already stopped bleeding.

“Why didn’t you drink from those people at Sharess’ Caress?” you finally say.

“Their blood…” he pauses, trailing off, and suddenly he seems to change his mind. “...I've grown tired of it.”

“Blood is just blood, isn’t it?”

He stares at you for a moment, then laughs.

“I wish it was, darling.”

Tags:@ayselluna@littleenglishfangirl@bg3obsessedsideblog@iwillpissyourpants@cyberpr1m3@ukeia-uchiha@snowlotr@road-riot@spacekidnova@madislayyy@lordfishflakes@nicalysm@djarinsway@tinystarfishgalaxy@brainz00@hopeful-n-sad@ohdeerieme@madisban@chrismarium@chonkercatto@fanfic-share@sleepyred1703@miskouly@ravenswritingroom @iamlowkeycrying @deezus-roy @spiritraves @mariposakitten @dinobae-replyacc @whisperingwillowxox @bdudette @misscrissfemmefatale @atropapurpurea @cosywinterevenings @phoenixgurl030 @generalstephkenobi @shadowsmusical @himesuedi @girlygmer-blog @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @aelieknox @hyperfixationwhore @teardropcup @bitterbeanren Please let me know if I didn't add you to the list or if you'd like to be added!

[the-s1lly-corner]

craving some more fluff serotonin in life, can we please have some promts of kissing/first kiss with the TADC cast? (caine will be....something lmao)

Kissing hcs w/ TADC cast

gonna format this kind of like the hugging hcs post! also reminder that requests are still closed, i am answering requests that were sent before this morning! any requests sent after are going to be deleted due to me trying to clear my inbox; please hold onto your requests until i announce requests are open again! if in doubt refer to my bio!/nm/not targeted

CAINE:

this man would not be shy about giving you affection, he would kiss you as soon as he felt it was right and you were giving him the cues and all that. he understands that teeth arent ideal for kissing so similar to kinger (who i wrote first for this post) he gently presses himself into your mouth. weird feeling but hes careful not to bite you or get too harsh, i give him a 6/10

POMNI:

very short you might have to kneel or pick her up so she can reach you if you're taller than her.. very timid and awkward, quick peck on the lips. pomni does not know what she is doing!! who let her cook! 7/10 though, pomni as a whole is soft, its kind of like kissing a marshmallow... actually she kind of tastes like one too, weird... give her some time and she'll be more confident!

RAGATHA:

soft but not as soft as pomni, instead of kissing a marshmallow its like kissing one of your dolls... i think it depends on what kind of material ragatha would be made out of... assuming the digital world gives her textures and give and all that.. hmm...her mouth is odd, i personally hc that its just. 2D. like pomni has a proper mouth, you can see the depth of it. but ragathas mouth is like, stop motion... 7/10 simply because she probably holds you close and her hugs are amazing so it just adds to the experience

JAX:

similar to caine, i think! we never see jax actually.. open his mouth, its just teeth. personally i think thats just how his mouth is, he cant open his teeth. so... teeth kisses... though caine can actually open his mouth, jax just has. the wall of teeth... odd... kiss the teeth wall i promise he brushes his teeth/j i give him a 6/10, i think its something you have to get used to

KINGER:

i said it a few times but kinger would need to hype himself up before kissing you for the first time. or alternatively, if a tense moment just happened where say.. one of you guys almost got hurt (or as hurt as you can get in the digital world,) he would probably kiss you me thinks... no mouth how will he give kiss kiss :(? gently presses where his mouth would be to yours. hard and cold, 5/10 but he still tries to be gentle so its not like hes clacking himself against your teeth

ZOOBLE:

similar to kinger but also not because of how zoobles head is shaped... maybe you guys can assume the space between their eyes is where their mouth would hypothetically be. its like putting your mouth against those plastic foods.. cold, their head feels hollow like some of the plastic food toys.. not noticeable unless you press hard against them.. 4.5/10

GANGLE:

you see this one i can work with since i have already written characters with masks getting kisses! just kiss where her mouth is and you're golden! sure the mask is also her face and shes like ragatha in regard to the 2d mouth thing... but hey its better than zooble, i think! similar scoring, i think, 7/10 also i think she would put her hands on your cheeks while you two kiss

[licorice-tea]

I Think I Love You!

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader, Platonic Straw Hats & reader

Content: Strawhat!reader, cursing/strong language, kissing, Law has trouble with accepting his feelings, reader is a schemer and plotter fr, misunderstandings / miscommunication but more funny than angsty, fluff, idiots in love <3

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: this is a song fic based on “I Think I Love You!” by the Partridge Family lol, so the indented parts are song lyrics! also i wrote this between like 2 and 5 am… please forgive me for any grammar mistakes����

This morning

Law cannot stand being a guest on the Thousand Sunny. He wakes up in the library- he must have fallen asleep there last night- and can already hear shouting from above deck. Why are they causing such a commotion this early on in the day? To him, the reason is simple: because the Straw Hat Pirates are inarguably the loudest, most annoying, chaotic bunch of-

thump thump thu-thump thump… knock knock!

Pushing the door to the library open with your back, you carefully turn while entering the room to reveal a serving tray in your hands.

Your voice rings out in the mostly silent room- save for the noise coming from the deck of the Thousand Sunny. “Hey, Law? Sanji made coffee for the girls and I, so I had him make you a cup t- oh.”

You smile to yourself upon seeing the ally captain, Law, fast asleep at one of the library desks. (Or at least, he looks like he’s asleep.) Wordlessly, you set the tray down beside him.

“He looks cute like this,” you think, “calm.”

On your way out, you pause and grab a sticky note from a drawer in another desk. You decide to jot down a little note rather than wake him. But, unbeknownst to you, Law is already awake and staring at your back.

Ok, so… there might be one exception to his feelings of contempt toward the Straw Hats.

And maybe it’s because he wants to let you fulfill your kind mission, or maybe he just panics, but when you turn around he closes his eyes again. You stride back across the library to his desk makeshift bed, and stick the note on the tray as quietly as possible. Law can feel the soft exhale of your breath fanning over him, knowing you’re probably smiling. Soon after, he hears the door open and close softly, and decides it’s safe to sit up and open his eyes again.

I woke up with this feeling

His tired eyes scan over your words with the tiniest hint of a smile: “Sanji made coffee! + There’s milk and sugar in separate cups, b/c I’m not sure how you like it. -y/n :)”

To think, you went out of your way to ask that dumbass cook to make a cup for him, too? Then you had arranged it so neatly- and written the sweetest goddamn little note… Well, it was really just a simple explanation of the tray sitting before him, but it was cute because it came from you. He knew you wrote it out of care and concern for him, not to mention your own kindness. And- as he allows his mind to wonder while staring at his untouched coffee- he thinks that maybe you did it out of love.

“Wait, no, that’s crazy.” All this time around Straw Hat and his crew must be getting to him. Law tries to remedy his outlandish idea that you might feel for him the way he does for you by starting on the coffee you brought him. He doesn’t usually take milk or sugar in his coffee, but since you went out of your way, he adds a splash of the former and a small cube of the latter. And suddenly, his mind is wandering again…

What a kind thing to do for someone. This makes him feel sure of his previous notion once again- that you just might love him. You have to. Because he’s falling in love with you, slowly but surely, and…. oh. Fuck. He loves you.

Law curses himself. Realizing he’s falling in love is NOT how this day should start. Or any day, for that matter.

I didn’t know how to deal with

Though he got at least 6 hours of sleep (which is around 3 more than usual for the surgeon), and drained his coffee cup, Law’s head is aching. It’s a result of stress, most likely. Because, ever since he came to the terrifying realization that he’s falling for you, he can’t stop thinking about it (love, you, etc.)

Your smile is one of his favorite things, for example. It ranges anywhere from bright (like on the night he cracked a single joke while the two of you kept watch from the crows nest, and suddenly you outshone the stars while laughing) to sweet (when you accept a compliment from the love cook with a shy expression), with at least a dozen more variations.

And your eyes… God, he needed to stop thinking about you. He can barely concentrate now; what did he even plan on doing today?

Law decides then, that if he’s to get anything done at all, he’ll need to push all thoughts of you to the backburner.

And so I just decided to myself

“This is a foolproof plan,” Law thinks to himself, “one of my best yet.”

He’s most definitely lying to himself, but is it really lying if the liar themself believes the lie?

“Shit. Even that doesn’t make sense.” Whatever, he just needs to concentrate on something- anything other than you.

So Law, stubborn as ever, uses this trait to his advantage by becoming dead set on not thinking of you at all. He does so by ignoring you when you pass by each other in the halls of the Thousand Sunny, not meeting your eye when you offer a friendly smile over dinner, even straight up ignoring you once when you knocked on the door to his room. He knows it was you because you have this habit of making a short tune out of knocks-

No! He absolutely can’t think of you. Law has already made up his mind, and under no circumstances can he backtrack.

I’d hide it to myself

Law is very obviously hiding something, you’re just not sure what.

It’s like his demeanor toward you changed overnight. Before his switch up, the two of you had been spending a large portion of your days together. And sure, there aren’t many people to choose from for company when you’re at sea, but you took pride in the fact that Law still wanted to be around you.

It had taken a little time for the Captain of the Heart Pirates to open up at first- which you didn’t mind at all, some people are simply more reserved than others- but once he did, your purely physical attraction to the man grew into a head spinning crush. So, once you gained the confidence, you began flirting and showing him how you felt in careful ways.

And it had seemed like it was working! He engaged in meaningful conversations with you, started sharing sly compliments and jokes and looks, would always sit beside you at dinner- or directly across from you if both adjacent seats were taken- and didn’t seem to mind trading in his late night reading for keeping watch from the crows nest with you. All signs had pointed to him at least thinking of you as a friend, if not reciprocating your feelings for him.

So why the hell is he ignoring you all of a sudden? Whatever the reason, you intend to find out.

And never talk about it

After consulting with your team (Nami, Usopp, and Robin- the most emotionally intelligent people and/or those with the most relationship experience on the crew), you decide to confront Law. “It would be best to be straightforward and honest,” is the consensus the four of you came to.

But, it proves to be harder than you thought since he is still avoiding you. You’ve taken to hanging around the kitchen because everyone has to go there at some point, as everyone gets hungry or thirsty, but Law never shows. How is he getting his morning coffee if he never goes to the kitchen? It bewilders you; how he’s managing to sneak by you on your own ship. (On the second day of trying to catch him, you realize that he can, in fact, use his devil fruit abilities to avoid walking around the ship and simply teleport into the kitchen instead.)

The next day, you decide to hang around inside the kitchen. Sanji doesn’t mind one bit, and you think that Law is sure to pay a visit at one point or another.

And he does! You don’t even have to wait long, because early in the morning- around 6:30 am or so- he teleports in with a flash of blue light and greets Sanji with a nod. However, he doesn’t take notice of you sitting on a stool at the kitchen island.

“Just as I suspected.” You mentally pat yourself on the back for your sleuthing skills.

Law walks to the counter to grab a mug and pour a steaming cup from the pot the chef had just brewed, when you speak up.

“Morning, Law.”

He nearly drops his mug before turning around to see you, sitting at the kitchen island, with your own cup of coffee. (He notes how yours is a much lighter shade, and you’ve added ice and whipped cream. It fits you, he thinks, to prefer something sweeter. Great, just another reason why you could never like him the way he likes you.)

Law had purposefully been using his devil fruit and any other means to avoid you these last couple of days; yet here you are, looking at him with your knowing gaze. He was sure that you had caught on to his avoidance, because you’re perceptive like that, he just didn’t expect you to outsmart him like this. It’s enough to drive him crazy inside; like everything about you drives him crazy. (In some strange and foreign way that makes him yearn to be around you, but forces him to push you away.)

He mumbles out a quick “Morning.” and tries not to look as caught as he feels.

This is where you realize the flaw in your plan to confront Law: Sanji is also there. And despite the love you have for your crewmate, you don’t really want to do this in front of him.

So, when Law leaves just moments later, you follow.

And didn't I go and shout it

“Law! Wait up!” You call from a few paces behind him.

Though he doesn’t wait, he responds, “What?”

“What do you mean what? You’re being weird, and I want to know why!”

Law finally slows down, but only to open the door to the library, “I’m not being weird. Go away, y/n.” He states simply, then tries to close the door, but you hold it open.

When you walked into my room

You follow Law into the library- the room he has begun to frequent and sort of staked his claim on ever since he became a guest on board the Thousand Sunny.

With equal fervor, you respond; “Then why are you avoiding me? And straight up ignoring me when I try to talk to you? Because it’s really fucking rude. We’re friends, you know, and I thought-“

“We can’t be friends.” his voice is cold.

“Oh… Oh.” You think you understand now. “That’s so dumb, Law. Like, really stupid actually. Our friendship doesn’t depend on this alliance, if that’s why you-“

“It’s not!”

“Stop cutting me off! Ugh, just…” you sigh, clearly frustrated, “just tell me what’s going on then, please.”

He looks at you, your arms crossed and jaw set tightly. One might take your expression for angry upon first inspection, but there’s just a hint of sadness in your eyes and furrowed brows. He doesn’t want to ever see you like this- especially not because of something he’s done.

“I think I love you!”

This is it. He’s going to confess his feelings to you and ruin everything. You’ll probably hate him, never want to see him again, and that will just make it a hundred times harder to endure the remainder of his alliance with the Straw Hats.

“Well.. We can’t be friends because I…” Where was confidence and blatant disregard for the opinions of others when Law needed it?

You tilt your head and quirk a brow, giving him a quizzical look. The knowledge that you would never judge him so harshly; nor do anything to purposely hurt him, wasn’t doing much for his nerves right now, but it would have to do. He just needs to spit it out and get this over with now.

“I think I love you.”

You blink a few times as your eyes widen in clear surprise. Are you upset… or happy? He can’t tell, so he quickly corrects himself; “Uh- I’m falling in love with you. I think.”

(I think I love you)

Your frown grows into a small smile before the curve of your lips opens up into a much happier, brighter grin. And you laugh in a way that’s practically melodic to Law, which allows him to finally release the breath he’s been holding.

“I… I think I love you too, Law. Or I’m falling.” You emphasize the word like it’s an inside joke, just between the two of you. “It’s hard to tell.”

“…Yeah.”

“So… that’s why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I’m, uh, sorry. I didn’t-“

Law stops when he feels the gentle press of your lips on the corner of his mouth. It’s barely a kiss, but you’re so incredibly warm and soft that he really doesn’t care that it only lasts 3 seconds. (Though, he would very much like it if you did it again. He makes a mental note to kiss you back with more certainty, should he get the chance.)

“It’s ok.” You tell him after you pull away.

He nods slowly- it’s probably the first time you’ve ever seen him in such a flustered state- before hesitantly leaning in again to close the distance between your lips. He tilts your jaw with one hand, and his other comes to rest on the small of your back. But he waits for you, like asking for your permission, which you grant him by parting your lips slightly. Then Law finally kisses you; it’s slow and a little unsure at first, but he quickly gets caught up to speed. You both find yourselves lost in the other as the whole exchange becomes more passionate, albeit a little aggressive and clumsy.

And this time, the kiss lasts much longer than 3 seconds.

[asimpwithfreetime]

Mr. Steal your girl (Tsu’tey x fem!reader / Jake Sully x Neytiri)

Summary: Tsu’tey tries to make Jake mad by dating his mate (He doesn’t know that you are not Jake’s human mate but his sister)

This fic is way looooonger than I expected.

Kind of a fluffy one-shot

Warnings: none I could think of.

Let’s pretend that Tsu’tey didn’t die, okay?

Also, I wrote this at 6 am in the morning and I have to wake up at seven, this might be the longest sleep deprived rant I’ve done.

English is not my first language

[ Reader’s POV ]

Jake has been acting strange since he became an avatar user, he barely sleeps o eats. He is always with Dr. Grace talking about Na’vis and their culture. I’ve also heard him talk about a woman, Neytiri I think.

Sometimes I wish I could go have adventures with him, running around Pandora freely. Not being small enough to be eaten by almost EVERYTHING.

Once the war with the sky people, no longer our workmates, started, I chose to fight on the side of the Na’vis, even though, none of them knew me.

I got injured during the battle. My brother, in his avatar form, picked me up, biding goodbye to his mate and bringing me back to our base to let Norm patch me up. I almost didn’t notice the freezing cold gaze that fell upon me.

[ Tsu’tey’s POV ]

So the demon with a fake body already had a mate with the sky people. She looks extremely weak. And he just PICKED HER UP in such a loving and caring way!? In front of Neytiri, as if nothing was wrong.

I walked towards Neytiri, but she didn’t seem upset. Okay, I’ll need to figure this out.

[ Few days after ]

[ Y/n’ POV ]

I was almost cured enough to go outside again. Even if I needed an oxygen mask to breath outside, it felt so freeing to see Pandora.

I didn’t want to wait any longer, so when Jake and Norm were distracted, I went out, into the forest. At first, I felt lost, but soon I found my way around it. Nature was beautiful here and we had stopped its destruction.

Stepping though the forest, I found a small lake and I walked up to it to see my reflexion. Standing closely to it I could see myself, but when I looked closely I could see the tree branches. In one of them there was a Na’vi, his bow was prepared to shoot me and he didn’t seem very happy.

[ Tsu’tey’s POV ]

I thought all humans were forced to leave the other day, except for some of Jakesully’s friends. I didn’t see any human women between them. I MUST kill her.

I followed her around the forest, I tried to be as silent as possible. She looked weak. Suddenly I remembered myself thinking the exact same thing. THIS IS JAKESULLY’S MATE. He didn’t show her to us because he wanted her all for himself while still having Neytiri. That bastard!

If I killed her, Jakesully would have to tell the truth right? Or maybe he would get so mad he would go back to his stupid dying planet.

I prepared my bow, pointing the arrow directly at her. She was so relaxed here, she wouldn’t expect this. But, she was looking into a lake, I couldn’t see it properly but I knew something was up when she tensed up. She turned around looking directly at me. For a split of a second I felt bad. I looked at her, her face soft and beautiful. Wait! Did I just though this human piece of meat was beautiful?

I tensed my bow a little bit more to scare her. She pulled her hands up in the air and said “Don’t kill me please!”. I thought about it. She was so weak she didn’t seem like a problem. But she was still Jakesully’s mate.

My mind raced, maybe Jake was being unfaithful to both of them and she wasn’t the one to fault. I brought my bow down and jumped from the tree. She was so small compared to me. From up close I could she her poor body shaking while she looked at me with a pleading look en her eyes.

When we were close enough I said, trying to sound strong even though my accent was not very good. “I am not going to kill you, sky demon”. She looked at me, still doubting it. I was about to tell her to go off to her base and never come back here, but an idea crossed my mind. What if I steal Jakesully’s mate?

Mine died, then her parents promised me Neytiri, I did like her, even though she wasn’t my real mate. Then Jakesully had to come and ruin it, once again sky people broke my chances of being happy. I almost died in the fight and lost all my privileges I would get for being the clan’s chief. I was degraded just for a sky demon in a Na’vi flesh disguise.

I waited for three and a half years, Jakesully did it in one week. I looked at her when my idea seemed perfect. If a human stole my Na’vi mate, a Na’vi will steal his human mate. Perfect.

Just as I was thinking that, a woodsprite fell onto her head. Was Eywa saying that I should do it? Was Ewya giving me back what’s fair?

I smiled mischievously. The woman looked terrified.

[ Y/n’s POV ]

He was smiling at me just right after he was aiming at me with a bow and arrow. “Are you okay?”

He seemed to snap out if his trance. He pulled his bow and arrow to his side, not shooting it. “Who are you? Why are you here? You weren’t with the scientists that would stay here” his words were accusing, but his accent was adorable, I couldn’t help but giggle to myself.

“I am Y/n. Y/n Sully” his face darkened at the saying of my surname.

[ Tsu’tey’s POV ]

I knew she was his mate. Humans give each other their supernames? Subnames? Sournames? Whatever!

I knew she had to be with him.

[ 3rd Person POV ]

For the next couple of days, Tsu’tey began the Na’vi courting with Y/n. Sometimes she blushed at his advances, something that made him really proud. But other times she was oblivious to them.

Once he was close enough he kissed her, copying how Jake kissed Neytiri. Just with a smaller figure. He had taken off her mask for a second, kissing her roughly. She was red as a tomato.

Tsu’tey should admit that he began doing that to annoy Jakesully and to steal his mate as a revenge. But now he did want to steal her.

[ A month later or so ]

Tsu’tey felt nervous, he didn’t know how the mating would go as they would need help of the Tsa’hìk. He went to look for Jake. “Jake I am going to mate your human mate” he said, in English.

“Tsu’tey, brother, I think you might have messed up the sentence” Jake thought that the Na’vi had said something wrong because of the language.

He repeated the same words, now in Na’vi and Jake was as dumbfounded as before.

“Y/n, I am talking about Y/n” Tsu’tey explained. Jake started laughing. “What’s so funny? I courted her better than you could every imagine” Tsu’tey felt that laugh as a taunt to his pride.

“Y/n isn’t my mate” Jake hollered between laughs. “But she has your sourname!” Tsu’tey said.

“She is my sister!” Jake began laughing again. Tsu’tey felt his face loosing color. He looked dumbfounded. He still loved Y/n but now he felt like a fool.

[goodbuckcharlie]

Captain’s keeper | Nico Hischier

Summary: Nico surprises his girlfriend at her work much to her and her students’ excitement.

Warnings : I didn’t proof read this and I wrote it fast. Also no use of Y/N instead I use the name Baylee.

Notes : I don’t know how Nico or the devils act irl but this is how I imagine him. Also I know the devils didn’t play tonight ,but let’s say they did.

February 29th, the day that only happens every four years. It also just so happened to be the birthday of Nico Hischier’s lover. Baylee was turning 24 ,well technically 6, but that’s all a technicality. Unfortunately, she still had to teach, and Nico had a game, so the two couldn’t spend a lot of the day together. Nico tried to convince her to take the day off , but she insisted she had to be there for her speech and debate team who had a competition coming up. So, this forced Nico to get a little creative.

The morning started pretty early as normal, with Nico getting ready for practice, and Baylee doing her morning grading, since she refuses to spend her nights grading ,cause that time was reserved for Nico. But this morning, instead of Baylee waking up while Nico was in the shower, she was surprisingly woken up with her handsome boyfriend making breakfast.

“Good morning schatz.” Baylee hugs her boyfriend from behind. She is obviously much shorter than he is, so she has to wiggle her head under his arm to see what he was making. The girl can’t help , but smile like the Cheshire Cat when she sees that Nico had made two instagram worthy, smoothie bowls. Baylee was never a fan of traditional breakfast food like eggs, pancakes, or waffles ,so to see her lover put the extra time and effort into to her breakfast melts her heart. “Happy birthday my love.”

“Awe Neeks, it’s perfect.” Their eyes meet for the first time this morning, and they share a smile, before sharing a quick kiss. Baylee lets go of her hold on Nico, so the two can enjoy their breakfast.

“So, birthday girl, what do you have planned for today?” Nico asks with genuine curiosity.

“Well the first 5 periods are my ap Euro classes , so I was just planning on giving them a free day to catch up on work, and study for the ap exams.” It was only her second year teaching, and the school had already trusted her to teach an ap (advanced placement) class. This was mainly because the past teacher had retired, and she was the only person who was willing to take on this responsibility. “And then a few of the other teachers had planned a mini birthday party during 6th period cause that’s my lunch time. Nothing big. Then of course 7th period, I have to work with the debaters to add the finishing touches to their debates. They are so close to getting it, but they just barely miss the mark.”

“Well, good thing for them. They have the best coach money can buy.” Baylee rolls her eyes and chuckles. It was only her first year as the debate team coach, but the team had already won a few awards at local tournaments. But, in Baylee’s opinion she had nothing to do with the team’s success. It was purely her team’s natural talent.

“Neeks, I love the support, but I am few years out from being the best.”

The two continue to have a conversation as they eat their breakfast as a normal couple does. But sadly they both have to get ready for their day and go to work. Normally they carpool to work, with Nico dropping her off and picking her up, but on game days and during roadies, Nico gets a ride with Jack. They both adore their morning rides together, soft music playing and the loving embrace of the lover before dealing with the reality of work. Sadly, today was not one of those days.

Baylee leaves before Jack gets there (much to Jack’s disapproval) so she can work on some class prep for next week. This way she has more time to spend with Nico on Saturday.

During the school day, Baylee’s students and staff had showered her with love and gifts. They all tried to make this day very special for her. Baylee was over the moon to spend her birthday with her students, she just wishes Nico could be here too.

“Okay students settle down. Nicole please sit down. You can talk to your friends in one moment, if you give me just three minutes of your time.” Luckily, the teenager doesn’t give Baylee any hassle ,and she goes straight to her seat. The best part about being an ap teacher is that the students are more well behaved than normal teenagers. Don’t get me wrong they have their day too, they are still teenagers, but not nearly as bad as normal classes. “For my birthday I decided to give you guys a present, for today and tomorrow, you guys get to have a free day. I do encourage you to study for test next week, I am allowing you guys to do what you like. As long as it’s safe ,not too loud, and you don’t leave the classroom. One last thing, all late penalties have been suspended for the next two days, this means you guys can turn in any late work without a late penalty until the end of the day tomorrow.”

The classroom fills with excitement, which Baylee has to gesture for every one to settle down. This was her last class of the day before her break period and then it was time for debate. Luckily, Baylee only had a few more lesson plans and then she would have a whole weekend of free time to spend with Nico.

Little did she know, Nico was able to convince the team to end practice early and so he could surprise Baylee at work. Not only was he able to end practice early, he also was able to drag along a few of the guys to help surprise his girl.

Nico along with Jack, Luke, Jasper, and Dawson, got into the school with the help of Baylee’s coworkers. The boys had brought a raspberry cheesecake from her favorite cafe, which Luke almost dropped walking up the stairs.

Meanwhile, Baylee was talking to one of her speech and debate students the just so happened to also be in her 5th period class.

“You see that line you wrote right there? I really like how you wrote it down, but your delivery sounds fake,” She was currently coaching over the speech the student had wrote for the next tournament, “You can say the most ridiculous thing in the world with a mountain of confidence, and you would sound more believable than if you said something intelligent with 0 confidence.”

“Thanks Miss. Buck that helps a lot.” The student grabs her things with a smile and head back to her seat. Suddenly there is a knock at the door.

“Micheal can you grab that bud?” The student closest to the door, stands up and opens the door. Just as luck has it, Micheal was on the school’s varsity hockey team and was a huge devils fan. So imagine the boy’s surprise when he sees not one, not two, but five players from his favorite team.

Baylee’s heart drops when she hears Micheal shout “Oh my god, no way.”

With fear and curiosity for her student, she rushes to the door ready to protect the child, but what she was greeted with was no threat. It was her loving boyfriend and his teammates. This also makes Micheal’s reaction make more sense.

“Neeks what are you doing here?!” She pulls her boyfriend into a hug, but not without hearing Luke’s audible scoff.

“What are we? Chopped liver?” Baylee laughs off his sassiness and gives each one of the guys their own hugs. She invites the guys to come into her classroom, which of course causes chaos to consume the teens. Teenage girls giggling about how hot the hockey players were, and other students who were starstruck by the players.

Luke places the cheesecake on her desk where he sees a picture of Baylee and Nico after a game with Jack and him photo bombing in the back.

“I can’t believe you are here!” Baylee pulls Nico into another hug , just to make sure he was really there, and not a figure of her imagination.

“Of course, I have to make sure my girl is having an amazing birthday.”

“You mean our girl.” Jack says while peaking his head out from behind Nico.

“Yeah our girl.” Dawson adds with a teasing smirk.

“Next time you two wait in the car.”

“Miss Buck?” Baylee’s attention is moved to her student. “I hate to interrupt ,but can you help me direct me to the pages in the text book where we will be going over for next week’s test.”

She quickly excuses herself before helping her students quickly before going back to the hockey players. During the 10 minutes she was gone, some of the students had the players hockey related questions.

Nico watches Baylee and basically gawks at her as she teachers with such care and devotion. Of course this doesn’t go unnoticed by the guys, but they decide to chirp their captain later rather than doing it around a bunch of teens.

Suddenly, three students come up to Nico with very serious expressions.

“So Mr Hischier, what are your intentions with our teacher?” Nico is taken back by the teens’ abrupt tone. But his teammates all start laughing to themselves. “Miss. Buck is one of the realest of Jersey and yet you haven’t put a ring on that finger? Ain’t no way.”

“Damn cap, even the kids are wondering.” The team has always chirped Nico for waiting so long to propose to Baylee.

“Miss Baylee deserves, the biggest most beautiful wedding in the world and yet here she is weddingless.” The teenage girl at the end of the group points at Baylee who is distracted helping another student. “Tell me that she wouldn’t absolutely slay in a white wedding dress..”

Despite not fully understanding the students “hip lingo” ,Nico looks at Baylee and all he sees is her in a floor length dress, nothing too fancy since Baylee wasn’t a flashy girl, with her hair all done and her looking absolutely breathtaking. (An image he has thought of way too often) And he can’t help, but fall in love again.

“Jessie, Tony, and Angela leave Nico alone. You look like you broke the poor boy.” Baylee’s voice broke him from his gaze.

“We’re just standing on business Miss B.” The three kids take their seats.

“Don’t mind them babe, those are some of my debate students, I told them I wanted them to be more intimidating in their speech and clearly that worked too well.” Baylee guides the five men back out to the hallway , so they can have more privacy. “Thank you guys so much.”

“Anything for our captain’s keeper.” Nico groans in annoyance at his teammates nickname for Baylee. The other four guys bid their goodbyes to Baylee before leaving the lovers alone for a second.

“I know it wasn’t much Schatz, but given the circumstances, I hope you enjoyed your surprise.”

“Oh I definitely enjoyed it.” Baylee gives Nico a small kiss while still staying work appropriate since anyone can see her in the hallway. “I mean not as much as Micheal did, you guys totally made his day.”

The two laugh share a laugh for a second. When their laughter died down, their eyes locked again.

“I’ll see you after the game tonight okay Schatz?”

“Of course captain, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” The two share one more kiss before she sends Nico away knowing that the bells is about the ring and that will cause the hallways to fill with students.

When she renters her classroom, her students all look at her blushing face. The students can’t help, but feel happy seeing the teacher that brings them so much joy, be so happy.

End note: so this was just a small little blurb I wrote real quickly just to test the waters on here and see how I feel about posting on here. This is the first ever post I am making on tumblr so feel free to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism only please :) and also let me know if you guys would be interested in reading more about Baylee and Nico in more detailed stories that I put more effort into.

[whyse7vn]

BOOK CLUB -

[ ot7 x reader ]

MILLIONAIRE CLUB + tae

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

tae: my girl tell me to shut up and i do

hobi: do you have schizophrenia

jk: ong

my girl tell me to shut up i kill myself

yoongi: it’s 6 in the morning

tae: so…

i’ve been seeing someone…

jimin: as in dating??

namjoon: therapy?

hobi: hallucinations?????

y/n: gm 😚

jk: omg my girl online what do i do >.<

jin: send nudes

jk: u first

jin: ?

jk: ??

jin: send it to HER

jk: ohhhhh

yoongi: ur girl?

namjoon: our book is out btw

tae: we wrote a book?

jk: did my story about the aggressive zebra in my room make it in

jimin: what

tae: i don’t remember writing a book

namjoon: no

jk: wtf :/

hobi: he needs to leave those drugs ALONE i’m telling you

jin: awoman

tae: did you write it without me??

y/n: if exo and superjunior are at our doors with ak47’s and bombs in the next 48 hours don’t act surprised

jimin: i could take them all tbh 🥱

jk: in bed?

jimin: stop talking to me

tae: do i still get paid for the book?

namjoon: ur overreacting

jimin: ????

DID YOU NOT SEE WHAT THAT NASTY MANCHILD SAID??????

namjoon: not you

y/n: I AM NOT

they’re gonna come get us i’m not joking

hobi: what if they bring all of nct with them

yk for back up

y/n: the end of bts for realzies

yoongi: dramatic

jk: let’s bomb the sm building

tae: is it like a colouring book?

namjoon: tae stop talking

tae: ur not my girl i don’t answer to you

hobi: where do we get a bomb?

jimin: bet namjoon knows

namjoon: ??

why would i know

jin: but i like shinee

y/n: REAL

we have to think about this

yoongi: still 6 in the morning btw

jimin: okay big ben like???

jin: yoongi can you not be a hater rn

yoongi: get a job

jin: i just wrote a book actually

namjoon: technically

jin: shut the FUCK up

tae: SO YOU DID DO IT WITHOUT ME

hobi: what if we bombed it while shinee wasn’t there

jk: what about nct??

i think they’re cool

jimin: idc what you think tbh

y/n: i agree

jimin: great minds think alike

y/n: make sure shinee and nct are out

ALL of nct

jimin: nvm

jin: isn’t there like 400 of them

lowkey impossible

namjoon: 400 is a major exaggeration

there like 20 of them??

something like that

y/n: gotta make sure marks safe >.<

yoongi: ?

jk: what

tae: is the book only in korean?

jin: someone put a muzzle on him omg

hobi: isn’t he into that?

jin: ur right the only option is to kill myself

jimin: this bomb plan is getting long i’m out

hobi: yikes

same

y/n: hobi :C

hobi: sorry :c

jk: i’m also out i have a new mission

jimin: to shower??

sorry couldn’t help myself

i’m actually not sorry

i could help myself

i like to lie sometimes

jin: kim seokjin is also out

y/n: fine me it’s gonna be me yoongi and joon to save us all then

namjoon: i never said i was in?

y/n: you never said you were out?

namjoon: out

yoongi: i’m not involved

y/n: FINE

you all SUCK

poor lonely y/n will save the day then

assholes

we have to get them first

like are you guys suicidal??

hobi: a bit

y/n: i’m just gonna save myself then

hobi: saving you saving me

i really love nct

y/n: hope they get you first

hobi: i’ll literally become an nct member

i’ll be in wayV

jk: ur not chinese

unless…

jin: wayV isnt nct that’s two different groups??

namjoon: isn’t the group just called nct 127?

jin: like they are all under 127?

yoongi: so what’s nct dream then?

jimin: isn’t there an nct u??

jk: me?

jin: so the people that sung the perfume song are 127 not wayv???

y/n: no dojaejung are a separate unit

but they are also in nct 127

namjoon: what

yoongi: superm is also 127?

jimin: i’m having a stroke

this is so jin core

jin: excuse me??

jimin: ??

hobi: fake fans

you would never understand this nct life i live

namjoon: ur right

yoongi: what is going on

jk: have fun with nct i’ll miss you

jin: i’m back on the plan of bombing sm cuz wtf was that

unnecessary as HELL

down with sm

and all their fucking units

tae: can i get my money from the book now or…

yoongi: why are you still talking about the book

jimin: the broke era is really getting bad

y/n: begging for money is insane

tae: i’m NOT begging

y/n: so what are you doing?

tae: humbly asking for my cut?

i’m a businessman

i’m a millionaire for a reason

namjoon: act like it

tae: um?

rude but i’ll let it slide

pay up

now

someone

anyone

preferably now would be nice

JIMIN DID YOU JUST REQUEST 4K FROM ME WHAT THE HELL??

jimin: don’t have it millionaire?

tae: ofc i do!!!!!

but why in my right mind would i give YOU out off all people any of MY money

y/n: if you are in ur right mind i must be fucking insane oh my god

jin: about to cut some watermelon

hobi: yummy

jk: what if nct are all robots made by russia to spy on all of us

tae: what

jk: i’ll kill mark first

to test the theory

tae: ur not talking about my money and it’s making me itch stfu pls

yoongi: itch?

hobi: are you a crack addict?

jimin: namjoon would know a lot about that

namjoon: no i wouldn’t

stop saying that

jin: this watermelon just squirted on me

feeling violated

y/n: wtf?

hobi: i don’t think that’s normal

jimin: how tf a watermelon squirt

jk: pics

yoongi: what is wrong with you

namjoon: let’s do a phone detox

let’s all turn our phones off

for a month

tae: IM ITCHINGGGGG

jimin: namjoon 1 hour off the drugs

hobi: highkey gross get some cream or something??

jin: right i’m trying to eat here

namjoon: i don’t do drugs

jin: what if i sent a watermelon with a bomb in it to sm

namjoon: leave sm alone

jin: never

i’ll send a bomb for every unit they confused the poor world with

jk: 82

jimin: something about that number seems wrong

jk: 127

yoongi: didn’t laugh

y/n: think you did

tae: itched so hard i’m bleeding

hobi: we’re gonna let them kill tae before the bombs are sent right?

tae: ??

jin: that’s stupid

tae: right like 😭😭

jin: ofc lmao

tae: what

y/n: now we have a book out can we start a book club

namjoon: that would be cute

yoongi: idk if tae knows how to read like that

jk: i love boobs

*books

i SWEAR I MEANT TO SAY BOOKS

PLS BELIEVE ME

jimin: i don’t believe you

jk: PLS

tae: i love the sound of “book club”

hobi: ???

y/n: “book club”??

tae: what?

jin: he’s gonna say something dumb

tae: book club is code for sex?

jin: told you

y/n: what

hobi: bro

jk: it is?

yoongi: no

tae: guys i think ur getting old

all the kids know that

jk: i would like to try book club

did i say it right?

like the kids would

tae: no it’s gotta be more like

wanna join my book club 😉

jk: wanna join my book club 😉

tae: perfect

jk: i don’t have a book club tho

tae: that doesn’t matter

jk: i don’t like lying

i don’t think i can do this

yoongi: same

yoongi left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

tae: he’s mad he’s old

doesn’t know the slang of todays children

jin left left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

tae: lame

@y/n wanna join my book club 😉

y/n left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

jk: DON’T TALK TO HER LIKE THAT YOU NASTY LITTLE LIAR

jk left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

tae: lol wtf he mad as hell

hobi left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

jimin left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

namjoon: i really hope the person that you’re seeing is actually a therapist

namjoon left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

[tqavaaas]

what if jing yuan was forced to give up a memory to resist Mara, and he had to forget either his girlfriend or the high cloud quintets. So he chose to forget his girlfriend but didn’t tell her, instead he wrote her a note, where he breaks up with her.

*ೃ༄ Heartfelt letter ˚◞♡ ⃗

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 ┊A goodbye from your significant other.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ┊Slightly corny (?) - angst - short

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 ┊ jing Yuan x Fem! Reader

𝘈/𝘯 ┊What a great way to kick off my blog! In all seriousness though, thank you for the request; I love angst sm and genuinely loved writing this.

He didn’t want to do this. But alas, this was a curse from being practically immortal. He had to choose to forget the most important people in his life, and he had to pick the girl who’s been by his side since the fall of the quintets. Even after centuries, he couldn’t let go of the friendship that’ll never return.

He had discussed with you earlier that day, and he was going to forget you. Looking back, your reactions were immature. You were fuming with anger, much more disappointed that sparked your childish behavior. You had left the Seat of Divine Foresight that same hour, you hadn’t bothered to even pay him one last visit. Oh, how you wish you did.

The day after, was in fact the worse. Seeing him look at you without that look in his eyes truly brought you to tears. Even yanqing saw it.

“Ah, I presume your [name]?” The general spoke, a gentle smile on his face. How you hated it.

You simply nodded. You figured speaking would bring you to tears - but at this point, why wouldn’t it?

“I found this letter at my side table this morning, it’s addressed to you. I’m unaware of the contents in them, so please do excuse me if it’s disrespectful” He spoke, as regal as ever.

Soon enough, work hours were over. You placed the letter on your counter, debating on whether you should read it. You know whatever was in that letter was everything he felt in that moment. But did you want to experience those feelings to?

Yes. Yes you did.

Carefully you opened the envelope: careful not to rip the paper, nor the bow that was glued to it. Jing Yuan was always so extra with you.

You placed the envelope down, then unfolded the letter itself - to reveal such exquisite and undoubtly elegant handwriting,

❝ My dearest,

I wrote this to apologize to you, you may also consider it my formal goodbye, but I hope that in due time, you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. It may be years, or centuries from now. But I truly hope that someday I’m able to get forgiveness from you. Though, I am aware no amount of justification will able to condone my actions. I’m guessing you believe my actions are unreasonable, I cannot doubt you for those feelings, nor will I try to change your mind.

I don’t lack doubt you’ll make me yours again - and I wish you would. But someday, somewhere; maybe as foxians, vidayhara, or short-lived species. Among one of the 6 Hexafleet on the Xianzhou alliance, or one of many life forms in the billions of galaxies will we cross paths again, and we can spend more centuries together like we did before.

-Yours truly, Jing Yuan❞

[finnsbubblegum]

Best First Date I’ve Ever Had (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel, rom-com, smut

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah. 

Summary: Pov: You had an unforgettable first date with Joel Miller.

Words count: 2.7k

A/N: I’m trying to make this as a rom-com, hope you like my new series! This is part 10 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm so grateful for all of you! Thank you for your comments, reblogs, and likes ❤️ There are still more chapters for this series so stay tuned! Love you!

It’s been a while since I wrote smut. I hope you like it. Lol. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

“So when can I take you out for a date?” Joel asked you on a date as he chewed his dinner.

“Aren’t we always on a date?” You mumbled as you munched.

“Sarah’s always third wheeling.” He directed his eyes to his baby daughter.

“Oh..” You nodded.

What Joel meant was a real date with only the two of you. He loved spending time when there were the three of you. But he wanted to have a moment when he felt like there were only you and him in this world.

“I guess we’ll have to find a babysitter then?”  You raised your eyebrows.

“Can you ask Flo?” He only trusted Flo to babysit his daughter.

“Ask her if she’s free on Friday night?” Joel added.

“I’ll ask her tomorrow.” You nodded.

The next day at the cafe, you asked Flo to babysit Sarah and she said yes. Flo was always willing to help you and she loved babies. 

It was finally Friday and it was the day of your first real date with Joel since you dated him. You dressed up for him and he dressed up for you. Even though both of you had seen each other's morning faces, the two of you wanted to look good for each other. It was a special day and it was your first date after all. 

You tidied your hair one more time and put on more lipstick before you knocked on Joel’s door. You inhaled and exhaled. Then you knocked on his door.

“Hi.” You waved your hand nervously.

“Hi-you-uh-” Joel was tongue tied. 

You looked so beautiful and he ran out of words. His hand was still resting on the door, jaw dropped and froze in front of you. You raised your eyebrows and let out a chuckle. 

“Sorry, I-uh-You look absolutely gorgeous.” His cheeks redden.

“Thank you, Joel. You look handsome, too.” You kissed his cheeks and it made his cheeks red even more.

“So, Flo isn’t here yet?” You walked in the house.

“Yep.” Joel answered as you heard a knock.

“That must be her.” You pointed at the door.

Joel went to open the door for Flo.

"Hi, am I late?" Flo was panting as she walked inside the house.

"Only 5 minutes. That's okay." Joel took her jacket and hung it to the coat hanger.

"Thank God. Where is she?" Flo washed her hand on the sink. 

"She's sleeping in her room." You answered her.

"Okay. I got this. Don't worry. You two enjoy your date." Flo dried her hand with a towel. 

"Go on." She shoo-ed the two of you. 

"Okay. Call me if you need anything." You turned your head to her as you walked to the door. 

"I will." Flo opened the door. 

"Have fun. You know what I mean." Flo raised her eyebrows up and down as she whispered to your ear.

You gasped and slapped her upper arm. 

"Ouch." She rubbed her upper arm. 

"What's wrong?" Joel turned to look at you and Flo.

"Nothing. Come on, Joel. Let's go." You held his hand and walked to the car. 

"Have a great night, you two!" Flo waved her hand goodbye from the porch. 

At the restaurant

"Thank you." You sat as Joel pulled the chair for you.

"Okay. What do you want to eat?" Joel read the menu.

"I think I'll get the chef's menu." You closed the menu book. 

"Okay." Joel closed the menu book on his hand too.

Joel and you both ordered the chef's menu for the night. It was a good choice. You liked the meal. It was delicious. 

"Hmm. It's really delicious." You chuckled. 

"Yeah, this is amazing." Joel nodded as he chewed.

"Oh!" You gasped as you dropped your fork to the floor. 

"Nuh-uh. I'll get you new ones." Joel stopped you from reaching down the table to get your fork back.

"Excuse me, Miss." Joel raised his hand to get the server's attention. 

One of the waitresses saw Joel and walked towards your table. 

"What can I help you, sir?" The waitress asked.

"Can we get a fork, please?" Joel asked the waitress.

"Yes, of course." The waitress went to get you a new clean fork and brought it to your table.

"Thank you." You and Joel said it at the same time.

The dinner went amazing. You enjoyed the food, the vibe, and the place that Joel had reserved for your first date was beautiful. You appreciated him for choosing a beautiful restaurant. You offered to pay but he insisted that he paid for the dinner. Joel was a gentleman and he said "a gentleman pays on the first date.".

"Wanna take a walk?" Joel offered to take a walk as he opened the door for you.

"Yeah, I'm full. A walk sounds good." You rested your hand on your tummy.

You walked slowly side by side with him. Then Joel suddenly put his hand on your left upper arm, pushing you gently to the right so he could walk on the outside of the sidewalk. You felt butterflies in your stomach at his chivalrous gesture. Pouting a few times, holding yourself to smile every second. 

The two of you talked as you walked but then you had a quiet moment. Your heart beat faster as your hand and his hand brushed on each other's as it swung when you walked. You had the urge to hold his hand but you were too nervous to make the first move. But before you knew it, Joel's hand was already on yours. Your fingers and his were now intertwined. You looked down and smiled. You didn't want Joel to see you blushing. Little did you know, he was blushing too. The two of you just walked on the pavement enjoying the night breeze under the street lights. No conversations, just fingers intertwined, swinging your hand, and smiling while looking in the opposite direction to hide your butterflies.

“I remember you told me you love ice cream.” Joel suddenly started a conversation and looked at you.

“Yeah, I love ice cream.” You smiled because he remembered what you liked.

“I know a good place around here. Want some?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Of course. I always have room for ice cream.” You chuckled. Joel chuckled.

You chose chocolate ice cream just like you always did. Your love towards chocolate was so big that you never chose any flavor beside chocolate. And Joel remembered that. The two of you spent an hour at the ice cream place and talked again. Even though you met Joel every day, there were always things to talk about. The connection between the two of you was so strong that you had never run out of topics and neither did Joel. 

“Is this the last stop?” You asked Joel as you walked near to the car to open the door.

Joel smiled then he took your hand, spun you, and pulled you closer to him. You chuckled as you bumped into his chest. 

“One more.” He kissed your forehead.

Then he let you go and opened the car door for you.

“Where are we going?” You put on your seatbelt.

“It’s a surprise.” He started the car.

“Okay, Mr. Miller. I trust you.” 

After a few minutes of driving, you recognized the streets. You guessed he was bringing you to that hill with the beautiful view again. 

“Joel Miller’s favorite place.” You smiled and shook your head.

“It is. You told me you’re in love with me at this place. How can I not like this place?” He chuckled.

“Uh-huh.” You nodded.

“Do you wanna go outside?” Joel took off his seatbelt, his hand on the car handle, ready to go out.

“Let’s just stay here for a while.” You held his wrist.

“Okay.” He let go of the car handle. 

You closed your eyes, rested your head on the headrest, and took a deep breath in and out. 

“I’m so happy, Joel. Thank you.” 

“Me too. It’s all because of you. So, thank you.” He took your hand and rested it on his thigh.

“It’s because of you, too.” You opened your eyes and faced him.

Joel and you looked at each other with admiration, affection and love. Joel leaned in closer and so did you. Both of you smiled before you shared a deep kiss with him. 

“You taste so sweet.” He sneaked in a compliment in between the kisses.

“It must be the ice cream.” You smiled and continued the kiss.

You were caught in the moment. And you started unbuttoning his shirt as you kissed him because you were so madly in love with him.

“Are you sure?” Joel stopped your hands from unbuttoning his shirt.

“Uh-huh. Isn’t this why you brought me here?” You smirked.

“What do you mean?” He didn’t catch up.

“I remember the last time we were here, you told me this “We’re not *peck* done yet.”.” You did the same thing he did to you the last time he brought you to the place for the first time.

“When did I do that?” He acted dumb.

“Don’t act like you forgot about it. I know you’re lying.” You booped his nose with your index finger and he blinked.

Joel chuckled in embarrassment. He didn’t mean to have sex with you by bringing you to the hill. But if you wanted to, of course he couldn’t refuse your offer. You were so beautiful and he had imagined a million times making love to you. 

“Make love to me, Joel.” You whispered to his ear.

Joel got shivers from your whispering voice. Then he dragged your head closer to his. Kissing you so passionately like he was hungry to eat your lips. You kissed him back while your hands moved to unbutton his shirt. He threw his shirt to the back seat after you were done unbuttoning him. And you crawled to him on the driver’s seat. He helped lift you to sit on his lap facing him. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this. Watchin’ you takin’ care of my daughter. Actin’ like her real mom. Actin’ like my wife under my roof. I couldn’t wait to make you feel good.” Joel cupped your cheeks.

“Me too, Joel. Tonight is your chance.” You put your arms around his neck. 

Joel continued the kiss and his hand started to move around you. Caressing you, adoring every curve your body had. He suddenly lifted your dress to your waist and snaked his hand to cup your pussy. 

“Already wet for me darlin’.” He mumbled in your mouth. You chuckled.

Joel’s hand now sliding inside your panties to find your clit and started rubbing it in circles. Slowly and passionately while he was still kissing you. You gasped at his touch on your sensitive spot. 

“Do you like it slow or fast, baby?” Joel asked while his fingers were still inside your wet panties.

“Fast.” You answered while panting.

Joel listened to you and did what you liked. He wanted to make you feel good. Just like he had told you, he had been waiting for this moment for a long time. This was his chance. After he started to find his pace and a few moves, you felt you were reaching your orgasm. You moaned in his mouth and he swallowed it. Your fingers gripped the headrest behind his head and squeezed your eyes shut. You pulled away from his lips and rested your head beside his while you panted. You caught your breath and kissed his hairy jaw. Then you looked through his eyes and took his hand. 

“Touch me.” You brought his hand to your breast and he cupped it.

The two of you kissed again, licking each other’s tongue and lips while his hand kneaded your breast. You were too aroused and you wanted him to touch you bare. So you pulled your dress up and took it off. You threw your dress away to the back seat while Joel helped you take off your bra and put it away. 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

Joel took a moment to admire your naked body before he buried his face to your chest. His hand held your breast and brought it to his mouth so he could suck your nipple. You moaned at the feeling as you put your hand behind his head and slightly pulled his hair. He moaned as he kept sucking, licking, and kissing your breast. You could feel his cock hardened under you so you started grinding on him. Feeling his hard cock under his jeans. He groaned at your tease.

“Let me ride you, Joel.” 

You begged him as you took off your wet panties hurriedly while he undid his belt. You helped him pull his pants down and free his cock. Your jaw dropped when you looked down to see his cock poking out under you. He smirked and you cupped his jaw to kiss him. His hand moved his cock to your folds gathering your juices before he slowly slid himself inside you. You gasped as he stretched you wide. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight.” He buried his face on your shoulder.

You started to move your hips grinding on top of him with his cock inside you. Both of you moaned, feeling each other skin to skin. You rode him moving your hips in circles feeling him touching every inch of your walls. 

“That feels so good.” You whispered in his ear again.

Joel moaned at your voice. He loved every part of you including your voice. So you were giving him an ear orgasm by whispering to him. Of course you didn’t know about that, but you felt like you hit the jackpot when you realized he enjoyed listening to your whispers. Joel wanted to make you feel good and you wanted to make him feel good too. You two loved each other so much.

You wanted more so you braced yourself holding on to the shoulder of the seat and started to bounce. Joel groaned at your sudden movement. He rested his hand on your waist adoring your bouncing tits. You leaned in closer to kiss him while you still bounced on him. Then he started to thrust into you too. The two of you moaned feeling one another but you swallowed each other’s moans. You gripped his hair and bounced faster. 

“Fuck baby. I’m close.” Joel groaned.

“Cum inside me. It’s okay. I’m on birth control.” 

“Fuck!” You kept bouncing on him and you felt close too.

You clenched your fist burying your nails on the headrest behind him. And Joel groaned, releasing his seed inside you painting your walls. Then he buried his face on your chest and you rested your chin on his head. 

“You’re amazing.” Joel mumbled on your chest and kissed it before he looked at you.

“You’re amazing, too.” You caressed his hair.

“What time is it?” You remembered you promised Flo you would be back before midnight.

“2 am.” Joel looked at his watch.

“Shit.” You cursed as you pulled back and bumped to the steering wheel.

*car honked*

You let out a little scream as it startled you. 

“Sorry.” You shrugged.

“Don’t worry. No one’s here.” Joel giggled at your clumsy actions.

“We need to go back.” You chuckled. 

Joel chuckled as you moved back to the passenger seat. He saw his seed dripping out from you. Then he took some tissues and leaned in to clean your inner thigh. 

“You made a mess.” You chuckled as he cleaned you.

“I did.” He chuckled and gave you a peck on the lips.

Then he extended his hand to the backseat to grab his shirt and yours. 

“Here.” He passed you your clothes.

“Thank you.” You put on your clothes and tidied your hair.

After the two of you finished putting all of your clothes, Joel drove home. 

“Thank you for tonight. You planned it so perfectly. I really appreciate it.” You rested your head on the head rest while facing him.

“Glad you enjoyed it because I did.” Joel took your hand and kissed it.

“This is the best first date I’ve ever had. I love you, Joel.” You kissed his hand back.

To be continued…

Taglist:

@lovelyygirl8 @skysmiller @moonlightdivine @crocodiile @angie2274 @pulchritudinousrogers @peqchsoup @msecho19 @happinessinthebeing @nyotamalfoy @nakedmoondiaries @dzaga890 @pa1g3-t0mm0 @prettysbliss @wanniiieeee @one-sweet-gubler @x-ap0llo-x @feministfanboi @ordinarylokix @afterglowsb-tch13 @padgraysonssram8re @tomorrowseverything @hummusxx @iranispunk @mrsyixingunicorn10 @likeanimagepassingby2 @mediocrewallflow3r @pedr0swh0r3 @mxtokko @dorck26 @cascactus28 @cheyxfu @stupidthoughtsinwriting @undermoonlightwalk @bigmoodyjoody @humanbug @sarahhxx03 @krisviciousx @quixscentsposts @dgct2 @dgraysonss @heybabyshae @fluffyspaceprincess @toottmblr @avengersfan25 @xixxala @dianaffddz @onzayhe @violetwitchmcu @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @kelh27

[the---hermit]

19|09|2023

I am fully back into my studying routine, and it's going smoothly so far. I was a bit intimidated at first because I was afraid I would stuggle after these months of rest, but honestly everything is coming very naturally. I am still paying very close attention to give myself time to get used to it again, so I take all the breaks I need even if I just need to get up and walk around the room for a couple of minutes, but I feel good about being back into the routine. It doesn't feel like a trap, it's just my comfortable productive habits. Today I continued working on the recorded lectures of last semester, I check the exam dates and for some reason the exam for this class will be later than expected. It will be in January, but honestly it's fine so I'll have time to do everything and study for a couple other classes in the meantime. I never realized how much I took for granted ppt presentations during lectures, because this class has only audio recordings and I am wasting so much time stopping and replaying things because I am not sure about dates or names. Despite this, which will surely make my progress a bit slower, I am liking the class. It's definitely more challenging than I was expecting but it's very interesting. Also an highlight of the day was my dad bringing me a cup of tea because he didn't see me in the kitchen at the usual time since I was working. I am a creature of habit and my day is indeed divided by my tea times.

cozy hobbit autumn activities and productivity:

6 am morning routine my beloved (I love I went back to this as days are getting shorter because waking up while the sun isn't up yet is one of my favourite things in the world. I don't know why it gives me internal peace)

read first thing in the morning while sipping my waking up tea (aka a blend of green tea and mint)

checked infos I needed on some classes

read and answered emails

worked on two lectures of my theories of men and power practices in the modern era class

polished my notes adding highlights and key words

had an amazing second breakfast (it's a hobbit list of course I am including this)

wrote a couple of book reviews I will post soon

really got to relax my brain during my lunch break so when I got back to work in the afternoon I was super energized

daily Irish review on duolingo

wrote my to do list for tomorrow

continued working on my crochet mushroom cardigan while catching up with podcasts (this time it was book unbound and re:dracula)

📖: Of Ghosts And Goblins by Lafcadio Hearn

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

Midnight Prayer | One Shot

Pairing: Astarion x Dark Urge / Tiny bit of Enver Gortash x Dark Urge

Chapter Count: One Shot | Read on AO3 Word Count: 4,016

Summary: Takes place during the events of Baldur's Gate 3 after Gortash's coronation in Act 3. Explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge after the implications of a past relationship between the Dark Urge and Enver Gortash are made known. Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, Mentions of Violence, Soft Astarion, Spoilers for the Dark Urge and BG3 in general, Dark Urge as Original Female Character Rating: Mature

Author Note: Those new lines in Patch 6 between Durge and Gortash are to blame for this. Plus the fact that I adore the Astarion x Dark Urge dynamic because they're on the same level, meaning they're both barely functioning beings who no business getting into a relationship and yet they make it work. Also, Astarion gets to be the supportive one when Durge goes off the rails.

All these idiots live rent free in my head and I had this scene that just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it out. This is a one-shot based on the same Durge MC, Eli, as my other ongoing fic - which I have not updated in some time, and I am sorry for that. Have some brainrot to make up for it! This is grade-A mushy, soft garbage.

Sleep was difficult to find as Eli lay on the stiff makeshift cot. Her glassy half-focused eyes were fixed on the patchwork ceiling of Astarion’s tent as her mind coiled around and around, like a snake trying to suffocate itself. Her thoughts were circular, aimless and chaotic as she chased the ghosts of memories that always haunted her nights.

Sleeplessness was nothing new, and Eli’s propensity for restlessness and nightmares was well known throughout camp. She had a tendency to toss and turn as rest evaded her, and when the darkness of slumber finally overtook her in the small hours of mornings it was never peaceful. She was often agitated and unsettled, mumbling low to herself until the shock of some cruel fever dream sent her into an outburst of screams as she flailed and fought to rouse herself from whatever terror had uncaged itself in her mind.

She’d wake shivering, breathing as if she were fighting for her life against legions of the Absolute rather than visions within her own mind. He was always there, though, whispering soothing reminders that they were safe. That they were together. That the horrors inside her broken mind were toothless phantoms. Remnants of a fractured past she could only catch flashes of.

She’d offered on many occasions to sleep alone, saying it made little sense for both Astarion and her to suffer because of her tortuous insomnia. He’d been firm in his refusals and finally told her that if she didn’t stop saying such ludicrous nonsense he’d figure out how to charm one of Gale’s used socks to jump down her throat every time she mentioned the idea.

Gods, was she thankful for that absurd and stubborn man.

She turned her head, eyes focusing on the pale elf who slept beside her. They’d settled into a habit of overnighting in his tent due to the plank of wood that served as a haphazard bed. Like her, Astarion’s sleep could be troubled, disturbed by his own breeds of monsters that lurked around the corners in his brain. His past was filled with grim and vicious memories. What small comforts he had been able to acquire over the past 200 years were things he clung to like life rafts upon a boiling and thrashing ocean. The stiff plank he slept on brought him a strange sort of peacefulness. He’d told her once that the only soft bed he’d been allowed to use while under Cazador’s control was the large plush bed in the palace’s guest room. The room where he and the other spawn “entertained” those who were brought back for Cazador to feast upon.

His bed in the dorms had been stiff and old, and yet he’d far preferred it to the lavish guest bed. Sleeping on something too downy and cushioned reminded him of the countless nights he’d spent being smothered into a pliable mattress by whatever piece of transient garbage he’d lured back to the palace. They’d have their way with him while he’d disassociate, his body working through the motions of sex while his mind walled itself off. It had become second nature to disconnect himself from the present the moment he slumped onto that soft bed.

It was a cruel byproduct of his torment that laying on comfortable bedding triggered a deep seeded anxiety in him, but Eli honestly didn’t mind the stiff makeshift cot Astarion had set up in his tent for them. Her body recalled sleeping on worse, even if her mind didn’t clearly remember the details. Astarion had even started laying down a thin bedroll atop the plank once their shared sleeping arrangements became a regular thing. It had been completely unprompted. One evening she’d entered his tent and it had simply been there, an unspoken acknowledgement of the validity of their relationship.

They were both uncouth morons when it came to navigating the delicacies and emotions of romantic relationships. They’d been quick to indulge in one another physically, the both of them looking to find refuge from the specters of their pasts in one another’s arms. They hadn’t meant for it to mean anything, and yet they’d kept seeking one another out - drawn together like kobolds are drawn to shiny objects. They’d tried ignoring their growing affections, but neither one of them were particularly good at pretending to be nonchalant and stable. Primarily because neither one of them really knew what that looked like.

Astarion had confessed first, admitting to his initially manipulative intentions with her and revealing truths about his enslavement to Cazador that made her heart ache for him. Eli knew, instinctively, that empathy was not an emotion she was incredibly familiar with. It made her anxious, feeling for someone else. And yet, when Astarion had said he wanted something real with her, she’d felt an almost wild desperation surge to life within herself. She wanted that, too. With him.

A cruel and vicious voice at the back of her mind had admonished her for her pathetic weakness. She should be punished, skinned alive for allowing herself to feel this kind of fondness and yearning for someone else. Once, she had been worshiped as a god by those around her. Once, she had been feared and her name whispered in awe and horror. Once, she had been something powerful, something violent and vicious, a conduit of destruction and carnage. Though the details were fractured, scattered about her ruined brain like shards of glass, she knew instinctually that she was a child of slaughter and that the bonds of mortals should have been beneath her.

But that didn’t stop her. Perhaps…perhaps she could be different. Something else. Something that was valued as more than just a weapon. Something that wasn’t just a means to an end. Something that didn’t need to butcher and rip the world inside out in order to be loved.

She’d pushed the Urge down, beating it back as she confessed her own affections for Astarion.

That had been some weeks ago, back in the Shadowlands. Now, they were just outside Baldur’s Gate, and things were…good between them. To her never-ending astonishment.

Her eyes focused on the sleeping elf next to her. He looked so peaceful, the worried lines of his face smooth and serene at rest. He was pallid, pretty and perfect like a cadaver forever tranquil. Just one stab, a stake through the heart and he’d always be like this – he’d never know torment or despair again. No one would ever hurt him.

She took a long, slow breath and banished the intrusive thoughts back to the shadows of her mind where they always lingered. She would never…she couldn’t…gods, she hated those thoughts that never let her be. They filled her with a sick guilt as she recalled nights tied up, howling and screaming and raging as she spat out all the ways she’d flay and ruin his beautiful body. Afterwards, once the Urges had quieted, Astarion would simply laugh as he cut her bonds, always joking about how you had to pay good coin for degradation like that in the city. He’d hold her until she calmed, the both of them quiet, content to just be together for one more day.

They shouldn’t work, not as a couple or as anything else, really. They were barely functional as individuals. Together, they should have been about as operational as a dumpster that was missing one wheel and was on fire. But they did work. They were careful with the broken pieces of each other, treating them with reverence and respect. They understood pain all too well, and not just the physical kind but the raw and panicked pain of having everything you valued ripped away. Of having your very self torn from your control…the pain of being used and the fear that no matter how loud you screamed or how hard you fought it would happen again.

The fear that you would never be anything more than a tool.

And so they were gentle with one another, in a way only reserved for them. Careful touches and trusting hands, concerned glances and warm smiles, constant wordless affirmations that they were at one another’s backs - that when one of them crumbled the other would be there to help build them back up, attentively and without judgement.

Neither of them knew what they were doing. Their combined histories with healthy relationships added up to an unsurprising number of zero. Astarion had admitted to her that he couldn’t remember ever bedding the same person twice. And Eli…well, she couldn’t remember anything, frankly. Her memories of past lovers were nonexistent…at least…

At least until today. Today, when they’d finally met the infamous Enver Gortash.

The name had always struck her as strange, from the first time she heard it when Karlach told Eli about the tiefling had acquired her infernal engine. The name had stirred something in her brain, like a familiar tune that she couldn’t remember the words for. And every time someone mentioned him, that sense grew stronger. It was as if there was a crack in her skull and every time she’d reach for that sense of familiarity, it would leak out and away just beyond reach.

Until today, when they stood in the opulent and grand hall of Wyrm’s Rock Fortress, surrounded by the elite of Baldur’s Gate, and she finally saw the man who had wrought so much suffering not only upon the city and the coast, but on her friends…

The flash in his eyes when they met hers…a sense of knowing, a sting of excitement. That spark of familiarity suddenly blazed hot and she knew this man was not a stranger. Not to her…

“If you keep staring, darling, I’m going to start charging you for the privilege,” a soft and slightly chiding voice lurched her back into the present.

Eli flinched, startled, blinking away the haze of her thoughts and focusing on Astarion, who now was peering at her through half-lidded and slightly weary eyes. He’d been sleeping with an arm draped across her waist – Astarion had grown fond of resting with an arm or a hand touching her, and she liked it, too. It was comforting.

He trailed his hand along her side in a calming manner, brows furrowing slightly with a hint of concern.

“Sorry,” Eli said with a slight yawn. “I was worlds away.” She gave him a small, tired smile as she reached out and brushed her fingers against the ruffles of his shirt, mindlessly beginning to fiddle with the cloth.

Astarion’s hand slid to her back, pulling her closer until her head was tucked below his chin and he could rest with his cheek against her silvery hair.

Eli could feel the soft rumble of his voice vibrate up from his chest as he chuckled quietly. “I’ve been told I have that effect on people,” he mumbled cheerily as his other hand began to gently brush through her hair, fingers carefully smoothing out any snarls as he stroked back and forth.

She hummed appreciatively, breathing deep and feeling eased by the familiar scent of rosemary and bergamot. “And who told you that?” she asked, teasingly.

“Hmm,” he pondered, running a dexterous finger along the side of her ear, causing goosebumps to prick along her arms. “I think it was you,” he mused slyly before his voice dipped lower into a growl and she felt his breath warm against her ear. “You remember, don’t you? That one night you told me I ravished you so thoroughly your soul left your body.”

He couldn’t see Eli’s exaggerated eye roll, but he could hear the grin in her voice as she responded. “I seem to remember that very same night you saying I exhausted you into delirium,” she teased, poking tenderly at his chest. “In the best way possible, of course,” Eli smirked.

Astarion sighed, the hand on her back drawing aimless circles as he murmured, “I do miss our nighttime trysts.”

Eli smiled, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and placing a light kiss there. “You know what they say. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or some such bullshit like that…”

“They sound awfully boring, whoever they are.” The vampire hummed low in his throat, kicking a leg over her waist and hooking his foot between her legs at her knees so that they were tangled together in a possessive embrace.

Eli just chuckled. They’d backed off the sexual aspects of their relationship for now, the both of them having their own flavors of hang ups that they needed to sort through. For Eli, that meant parsing through her strange, sometimes disturbing Urges which continued to insist that the lines between butchery and eroticism were blurred. Bloodplay was one thing, and that would likely remain a happy little staple in their titillating toolbox once they were ready to be that physically intimate again. But Eli had…other thoughts. Thoughts she wasn’t exactly comfortable with. Darker ones that bubbled up at extremely inopportune times and had her questioning whether she really wanted to shed light on her obscured past.

She breathed in Astarion’s scent, grounding herself in the now and pushing those musing away for another day. The desire between Eli and Astarion had not diminished, and on more than one occasion they had teetered precariously on the boundaries they’d set and wondering whether they should just say fuck it and…well…fuck. They’d always talk themselves down from the ledge, though, comfortable in the knwoeldge that when it did happen it would be earthshattering.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, love?” Astarion’s voice held a note of worry and Eli realized she’d been drifting off into the confines of her own brain again.

“Everything,” she sighed, frustrated with herself.

Astarion was silent for a moment, considering. The hand in her hair stilled while the one on her back pulled her in a bit tighter. “Is it…” he began, then paused a bit uncertainly, hesitant with his question. “Are you thinking about today? About…Gortash?”

He said the name so quietly that it would have been inaudible had they not been so closely pressed together. Eli wasn’t surprised about the question. She’d been acutely aware of how Astarion’s eyes never left her as she spoke with the newly crowned Archduke of Baldur’s Gate earlier that day. How he had discreetly positioned himself closely behind her, just off to her right. How he’d tensed, fingers ghosting near the hilt of a hidden dagger when Gortash said he’d always liked Eli. How his gaze darkened and his jaw tightened as Astarion sized the man up from across the hall before they left.

She knew this was a delicate situation for the vampire. Astarion despised showing any sort of vulnerability that could be construed as a reason for pity. Vulnerability, in general, was something he was still figuring out how to navigate after two centuries of living in an environment where anything and everything that could be used against him was twisted into a tool for subjugation and pain. Even with her, there were times when he wouldn’t let his walls come down, needing space to sort through his own internal barriers before he was ready to open up. Eli didn’t mind, and would give him all the time and space he needed. And bit by bit it became easier, for the both of them.

“That…yes,” she admitted, wanting to be truthful with him.

It wasn’t just Gortash, though. It was what he had told her, about Eli’s role in the whole Cult of the Absolute fraud. It was difficult for her to reconcile what she had apparently done with who she was now…the misery she’d set in motion. The lives she had destroyed. She shut her eyes and pressed closer to Astarion, seeking comfort in the cool of his skin against the inferno she felt inside.

He hugged her close, voicing a thought that had been gnawing away at his insides all day. “Were the two of you…close? Like us?”

The tentative, halting way in which he asked squeezed at her heart. As if he were bracing himself for something terrible, for something that would rip her away from him, just like everything else he’d ever given a damn about.

She thought for a while, mulling over the question. There was still so much that she didn’t know about who she was. Who she had been. She’d tell him what she could, though. He deserved that.

“I think we were. Close, I mean,” she clarified when she felt Astarion stiffen anxiously. “Not like us, though.”

She pulled her head back, out from under his chin, so she could see his face and meet his gaze with her own. Astarion’s eyes were round and distressed, the pinch between his brows furrowed and the lines of his face were tense. His eyes searched her own, desperately wanting to know who that man was to her while also fearing the answer.

Eli smiled warmly, bringing her hand up to brush one of his white curls behind his ear. His face softened slightly at her touch while the hand on her back clutched at her shirt as if to hold her here with him.

“There’s still so much darkness in my memory. But, there are things that have come back in flashes and fragments,” she explained, holding his gaze as her finger trailed to the edge of his eyebrow. “And while I’m not wholly sure what Gortash and I were to one another, I know it wasn’t like this.” Her hand came to rest on his cheek, thumb gently caressing his face near the corner of his mouth.

“Not like us,” she affirmed with a tenderness that allowed Astarion to relax, the stiffness easing out of him as the hint of a smile twitched at his lips. “He knew what happened to me,” she said softly, putting into words a thought that had been lingering at the back of her mind.

“He knew what happened to me, and he welcomed the person who did it into his confidence,” she said with a tinge of sadness to her voice. There was an ache of betrayal behind her words, and thought she didn’t fully understand everything her history with Gortash entailed, she understood this. “He stood by while I was unmade. While everything I was, the person he claims to care for, was brutalized and decimated.”

Eli’s words took on a cold edge, sharp as a shard of ice. Astarion listened intently, his breath caught at the back of his throat. He ached to pull her back into him, to wrap her up in his arms and shut the world out. Instead, he placed his hand on the back of her own and intertwined his fingers with hers, holding it against his cheek as Eli spoke.

“When I woke up on the nautiloid, I was nothing. Just the discarded scraps of whoever I had been. I had been thrown away. And nobody came looking for me.” She paused, her eyes flicking down in a brief moment of uncertainty.

There were some truths between them that had still gone unsaid. Truths that neither of them were ready to admit, and some that simply didn’t need words to be understood. Not this, though. This, she wanted him to hear.

“Since then, it’s been difficult not to think of myself as damaged goods. Something that was used up until it broke and was discarded.” She felt Astarion squeeze her hand and she looked back to him. There was a pang of recognition in his red eyes. “Everyone who I spoke to about my…urges, they all confirmed that there was something very wrong with me, even if they sympathized. Everyone except you.”

She paused, brushing her thumb once more against his face before she lifted her hand from him and took his own hand in hers. She pulled it to her lips, lightly kissing his knuckles while he stared at her, afraid to take his eyes off her for fear that she and this moment might evaporate if he did. He had stopped breathing, which luckily was not something he necessarily needed to do in order to maintain his existence.

Eli searched his face as Astarion waited for her to go on, breathless and just a tiny bit desperate to hear what she would say next. She wondered if he understood just how much it meant to her to have someone who didn’t see the wreck that she was when they looked at her. Someone who didn’t see a monster and only saw her, broken pieces be damned.

She thought he probably did…

“You were the only one who encouraged me to simply be whoever I was, darkness and all. I know at the time you were probably just looking to entertain yourself with whatever chaos and bloodshed I could cause,” she laughed and the expression on Astarion’s face melted into one of complete adoration.

“Guilty,” Astarion admitted with a laugh of his own. “And you haven’t disappointed,” he added softly, brushing a knuckle back up against her lips with delicate reverence.

She kissed at it, holding his tender gaze. “I don’t think you know how much that meant to me, though. And then later, when I was at my worst, you stayed by me and took care of me and you never stopped.”

Eli swallowed down the lump in her throat and blinked away the warmth that was threatening at her eyes.

“Nothing else could be like us, because no one has ever cared about me like you,” she concluded, smiling softly and whispering the words with the sincerity of a prayer.

Astarion stared at Eli for a long moment, emotions colliding and burning in his chest with so much vigor he was surprised his dead heart didn’t start beating again. He felt elated and awed by what she’d said. So much so that he was struck speechless and could only play her words over and over again in his mind, wanting to capture them perfectly and tuck them somewhere deep inside himself where no one could reach to steal them away. He couldn’t recall anyone ever saying anything to him that made him feel so cherished and significant. He traced the planes of her face with eyes that were beginning to wet as he tried to clear his throat and failed.

Eli watched Astarion carefully for a moment before her eyes widened in concern and she lifted a hand to him, carding it gently through his curled hair.

“Oh shit, did I break you?” she asked, only half joking as she stroked her hand through his hair.

The feel of it helped to calm him as a wide smile spread over his face, eyes half-lidded and looking at Eli like she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

“Come here you sweet, silly thing,” Astarion said, voice low and underpinned with a raw adoration that caused a flutter to take up in Eli’s chest.

He pulled her into a needy embrace; one hand placed softly in her hair as he tucked her head back under his chin, the other hand tightening around the small of her back to hold her close. He kissed the top of her head and breathed in slow, savoring her scent. She’d always smelled like wildflowers and the cool mist before a storm, like something exciting and freeing.

“Gods, you’re incredible,” he breathed, wondering what in the hells he had ever done in his irrelevant life to deserve her admiration. “I don’t think I’m ever going to want to let you go, my love.”

Eli wrapped her arms around him and for a moment she felt safe, secure and at peace.

“Then don’t,” she whispered against him.

They stayed wrapped up in one another until dawn, thankful to have one more day and hopeful for so many more.

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

Happy Wednesday! I’m on spring break and blissfully alone at a cafe writing for a few hours this morning. The weather is just starting to turn nice (though its supposed to rain tomorrow) but I can feel spring coming properly, which makes me happy. I hope y’all are getting some nicer weather soon, too.

I’m plugging away on my new WIP. I previously mentioned I’m tentatively titling it Back and Back and Back. I also quite like Start at the End, though I’m not sure if that description will end up strictly accurate, so might not work. We shall see.

I’m going to go ahead and share the premise now (or rather, the inspiration) because why not? I was reading through @carryonprompts and found this one and quite liked the idea. I started daydreaming about it in earnest right away. This was the first thing I wrote:

Past

BAZ age 6, 2003

When I get home from school, Vera always makes me a snack. After that, I’m supposed to do my homework before I’m allowed to go outside and play. There’s always pages and pages of it, and it’s horrid, because it’s so easy, it makes me want to rip it to pieces, or hide it under my bed. And if I have to read one more book about Dick and Jane, I think I might scream. (I’ve read every one of the books in my Beatrix Potter collections. Doesn’t my teacher know that if I can read words like presently, I shouldn’t need to read these baby primers?)

Even though I could do this stuff in my sleep, it’s going to have to wait because today he is here.

Or at least, I think he is. I only saw a flash of red out beyond the trees, but that’s as good a sign as any. I don’t want to make him wait, because I don’t know how long he’ll have to visit today, so I have to plan my escape quite quickly.

I don’t imagine this holding too closely to the book/movie. I’m taking inspiration from parts I liked (and can remember 15 years later lol) but shaping this to be a Watford-era, canon divergent fic with some time traveling/soul mate/destiny elements. It feels very ambitious for me to try writing time travel because it hurts my brain to even consume time travel media sometimes 🤣 and I am much more of a pantser than a planner when I write. Then again, the prospect of pulling off this sort of challenge intrigues me. Wish me luck!

Tags/hello/hope you are well 😘

@fatalfangirl @whatevertheweather @thewholelemon @cutestkilla @moodandmist @mooncello @aristocratic-otter @artsyunderstudy @bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart @valeffelees @shrekgogurt @iamamythologicalcreature @youarenevertooold @brilla-brilla-estrellita @forabeatofadrum @j-nipper-95 @larkral @leithillustration @messofthejess @captain-aralias @nightimedreamersworld @wellbelesbian @run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire @raenestee @rimeswithpurple @theimpossibledemon @theearlgreymage @whogaveyoupermission @monbons @noblecorgi @emeryhall @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ileadacharmedlife @that-disabled-princess @blackberrysummerblog @prettygoododds @ic3-que3n @hushed-chorus @orange-peony @alexalexinii @angelsfalling16 @arthurkko @letraspal @supercutedinosaurs

[deleteddewewted]

What It’s Like To Date Simon “Ghost” Riley

W/N: I'm using the comics and combining them with the reboot MW2. I recommend reading them to understand some of this, there's SA, Abuse, and many more disturbing subjects. I'm also not going to romanticize abuse here, this is more of Simon lashing out due to fear and it's not excused. We're not going to pull a Colleen Hoover.

W: Child Abuse, Angst, Fluff, Hurt With Comfort, Insinuated sex, Sexual Abuse, Talks of Torture, Mental Illness, Unhealthy Relationships, Disturbed Simon Riley, Friends With Benefits, Eventual Relationship, Eventual Monogomy, Minor Soap/Ghost

He’s scared of himself.

He’s especially terrified of you.

You provide him with a comfort he’s never known outside of his mother's.

He feels like vomiting when you hold his hands in your own or make him dinner instead of letting him eat his MREs.

You don't treat him like a child but you do make him feel safe like his mother once made him feel.

You shushed the voices in his head away as you slipped your hands underneath his balaclava and brushed his hair.

You pressed your body close to his and wrapped your arms around his body so he'd feel as protected as you did.

You were an anchor to him. One he didn't want to be ripped away from.

When he wakes up sweaty and panting, he reaches for you and the knife he keeps under his pillow.

He couldn't save himself in his nightmares but he sure can keep you safe.

He could save you.

You'd kiss his knuckles, because kissing his neck set him on edge, and mumble about how lovely he is.

"You're human Simon, it doesn't matter how damaged you think you are, I still love you just as you love me."

He'd scream at times.

At you and it hurt him when he'd snap out of it.

His words were all bitter and filled with venom but they nearly never phased you unless it was about things you've shared with him that were intimate.

"You're as shit as I am! You're shit! I'm shit! I hate you! You make me feel weak! I wish you'd die!" He was red and tense in the face. His mask was off and on the floor all while he walked out of your shared apartment to fuck off somewhere where his anger could fizzle out.

The apartment had felt cramped and your questions about his day set him off.

He felt like he was suffocating with just how domestic the space felt and how happy you looked while you prepped dinner for the two of you.

Simon met reason at a bar while 6 drinks deep.

He groaned all while paying for his drinks and heading home, piss drunk and feeling numb.

He shouldn't have felt hurt when you disappeared for the night, not when you didn't kiss him awake the next morning.

He had no right to cry while he ate the dinner you had taken the time to wrap it up with plastic and put it in the fridge for him to heat up later.

He cried all night while hugging the shirt you used for bed.

He waited for you to come back, he even called your friends to see if any of them knew where you were. By the end of the week, he had to head back to base and you didn't kiss him goodbye.

While deployed, you sent him a letter.

You didn't mention the way he hurt you nor the ugliness he bought into your life. You just wrote about how you miss his warmth and that you'll have dinner ready for him when he got back.

"So... I'm guessing you guys are a thing?" It all felt awkward, Soap had felt the tension that Ghost had carried into work after his short leave.

All Ghost had done during their deployment was turn on his phone to stare at the home screen.

Your smile was bright and your eyes soft.

You were a sight to behold. Ghost wanted you there with him.

He needed to feel you again.

"We're just fuck buddies, nothing more." The term left a sour taste in his mouth because he wanted to be more too.

Fear ate at him as he dreamt of you taking care of him. Your hand on his cock all while you whispered sweet nothings into his ear and your other hand playing with his hair.

He was compliant to your touch and all he could do was whine and moan at your gentle touch.

He wakes up with dry cum in his briefs and tears in his eyes. He misses you.

When he gets back he makes sure to grab your favorite takeout and a bottle of wine.

You look tired when you open the door. The bags under your eyes and the confusion that sets in while you look at his bare face.

"What are you doing here, Simon?" You're not mad. He wanted you to yell at him because he knows he deserves it but you instead just look at him like nothing happened.

"I wanted to fix things. I want to make this work." He can feel his eyes start to water and he hands you his gifts before getting down on his knees and holding onto your legs.

You pat his head and comfort him all while he cries and begs you to take him back.

He's a man eaten by his demons but that wasn’t a real excuse for his cruelty.

He was acting like his father and he wanted to die because of it.

"We can make this work, but only if you get professional help. Because Simon," You lower yourself to the floor and hug him. Your chest pressed against his head, his ear right on top of your heart. "I can't save you from your past. I can't be that person. Not again. Not anymore, but I will always love you."

He nods as he listens to your heartbeat. He promises to do better and he promises to look for help.

So he does.

The therapist is more helpful this time around. She listened to him and his fears of losing you.

He's a little scared though. His thoughts take him to places he wishes he couldn't go to but he has to face the music if wants to get better.

Every session is trying, his eyes dry and swollen from crying and shaking while he recounted the horrors of the past.

You stood there, arms open and a warm meal ready for him to eat every time he got back home.

"Thank you, love." He grew comfortable with kissing you.

No longer teeth on flesh with hickeys left behind but tenderly, loving.

He told you more about his life, his childhood, how much he missed his family, how much he wanted to be normal so he could maybe, someday, have one of his own with you.

"Would you want that with me?" He cried as he continued to eat his meal. He was so grateful for your care even while he choked on his own saliva.

"Oh, Simon. I told you I'll always be here for you and I intend to keep that promise." You helped him clean up.

You made sure to get him into bed dry and with warm clothes before letting him lay on top of you.

Most nights he talks to you about the things his father would do to him. The beatings, the lashings, the mental torment.

"She probably had a family. Maybe had friends looking for her. And she died in a dingy toilet thanks to my dad." His breath hitched as he felt the tears well up again. "I feel like I'm to blame for her passing."

You didn't speak back but instead provided comfort.

He fell asleep with his arms wrapped around you and his face tucked in your neck.

He was home, safe, and loved. He felt nourished, his skin finally fitting over his bones.

He felt human all while he listened to your heartbeat and felt your chest raise and fall as you slipped into slumber.

Ghost was no longer someone who had to hide all the ugly from you, Simon would make sure to set him right if it meant being able to have one more night with you.

Like this, on you, sleeping, and knowing you were his.

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

I woke up this morning and saw I had a message in my inbox on AO3, presumably about by new fic, and was excited to see the feedback.

When I read what they wrote it was a small comment that said "stop using sudowrite".

Had no idea what that even means, so I had to look it up and found out it's some form of a writing AI.

Absolutely fuming.

I want to make something abundantly clear right now:

I have not been hand writing and editing all of my own stories, hundreds of pages worth of personally hand written or hand typed content for the past 16 years, only to get accused of using any form of lazy ass writing AI now.

This is what I love to do. For fun.

I put in a lot of unpaid time, creativity and energy into my writing and editing. The only thing I ask for in return is participation from the fandoms I love, be it via thoughtful feedback or valid criticisms.

But this is neither of those things. This is just an outright, baseless lie against the art that I have worked so hard to make myself, and I won't be undermined or discredited.

There's anger, and then there's whatever space I am occupying well past it right now.

It's infuriating to pour hours of my love, thought and creativity into original content only to have someone come out of nowhere and try to tell me I've been having an AI do it, especially 16 years deep.

Bitch please.

I also found out that app came out in 2020 . . . As I mentioned, I published my first K/S story in 2008 as Ruby JW on the K/S archives, and my first fanfic on fanfic.net was published in 2007 as luigi_is_stellar.

I invite anyone to peruse my decades-long collection of independent content that I have single-handedly accomplished well before such an app even existed, then come back to me and try to tell me that what I do here isn't authentic.

I don't usually get spicy, but when it comes to the art I spend hours writing and drawing independently with my own blood sweat and tears, yeah. I'm going to get spicy.

I do far too much unpaid work out of passion and love for this fandom to have such a serious accusation flung my way out of nowhere.

It's the first time in my 16 years of writing for this fandom that I've ever been accused of plagiarism, and you best trust and believe that I don't take that accusation lightly. I work too damn hard to let someone discredit the work I do personally in such a baseless manner.

Anyway, that was discouraging AF. I am boggled to learn that AI writing is even a thing, no less someone coming out of the woodwork to try to accuse me of using it 16 years into story publishing when I literally teach academic honesty and writing ethics in my line of paid work as an English professional.

Genuinely: Do you know who you're talking to?

A bit of background on me:

I come from a not-so-wealthy family who could not afford to pay to put me through school -- I paid for that all on my own. I had to earn my University English degree, one of four University degrees I hold on my own work and pay alone, without so much as a tutoring session or handout from home.

Not once would I have jeopardized everything I worked so hard and paid for out of my own pocket as a poor ass uni student working two jobs and doing night classes just to phone it in plagiarizing, not on one ounce of my work.

That was all me.

I've handwritten 3 MLA essays in under three hour exams BACK TO BACK, immediately followed by back-to-back Biology exams & a final lab where I ALSO had to write multiple essays and switch from MLA to APA mode within the span of 6 hours.

Those were all bound in handwritten yellow booklets well before we ever had Google Docs, Grammarly, formatting suggestions, or even regularly brought/had access to laptops in UNI. I did my work by hand.

I earned my degrees in English and Biology AT THE SAME TIME before I even turned 24. I earned a double major handwriting my own work papers like my life depended on it, and you actually think I'm about to phone it in now?

Step to me like that again, young blood. I ain't the one.😂

Anyway, I digress.

Ya girl ain't here to fight BC y'all know I tend to be very easygoing, full of humour, and I love to joke around in the fandom. I'm pretty wide open to opposing opinions or even criticisms. But this is unfounded slander, and I won't be taking that on the chin.

When it comes to my work, I take that very seriously, and I don't play around. My late father once told me that "The work you do and the degrees you earn are yours and yours alone, they can never take that education from you." I live by that sentiment, and have done so by putting forth honest work.

Be it paid or unpaid work, it's my work. Periodt.

It is an unfathomably disheartening and insulting message to receive as someone who writes all their own stuff themselves, draws all their own fanart themselves, does their own photo edits themselves, edits their writing themselves, and has never even used so much as a single outside beta reader/editor for my work. Not once. The art, the writing, the editing -- It's all me.

Bottom line:

Say you do or don't like my work, that's cash money and we good, whether it's your cup of tea or not.

Butt know that it is my work.

I will not put all of this free time, effort and love into my work only to be accused of lazily ripping the content that I have spent hours writing and personally editing from somewhere else.

And on that note, consider my PSA rant ended.

[antiodote]

she can't finish and they fight - part III

warnings: drug/alcohol abuse, mention of purging, slight mentions of sexual activity (but not really)

"fuck you, harry."

part I & II

+++

she had slept in her car that night.

more specifically, she had parked in her gym’s parking lot and fell asleep in her car. her idea? get to the gym at 6 in the morning, run for an hour straight at an ungodly speed that might make her sick, shower and scrub her body so thoroughly that it hurt, get ready in the bathroom of said gym and arrive at work bright and early as if nothing ever happened. she even thought about getting some iced coffee on the way. you know, as a treat.

she also felt numb. so, so numb.

after she had left home - no, harry’s place - she wondered if all of it was a nightmare. some sort of hallucination that manifested itself into her brain after 6 weeks of straight malnourishment and sleep deprivation. never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that he would ever speak to her in that way or do something like that to her; question her trust like that. she asked herself if she even knew who he was or if the last four years had been a lie, but somewhere between taking an impossibly hot shower and slapping tons of concealer under her eyes in an attempt to cover her dark circles, she had decided to not think about it for as long as she possibly could. she just wouldn’t think about it, wouldn’t talk to anyone about it and she definitely, definitely, definitely wasn’t going to face him anytime soon.

and so, she arrived at work at 8:54 am, ready to get some work done and pretend that everything was as it should be. fortunately for her, it seemed to work out - for most of the day, that is.

she had greeted some co-workers, wrote down a list of to-do’s for the day, checked off those to-do’s one by one, had some coffee, ate some lettuce wraps for lunch and threw up said lettuce wraps, returned to drinking coffee and nothing but. with a few meetings here and there, some office gossip and a pile of work later, her work day was finished. she found herself wishing that she could be stuck in that loop for the rest of her life - or at least for another few hours - so she could escape the reality of things for just a tiny bit longer. things don’t seem to go to plan for her lately.

“you’re leaving early? is it christmas already?”

she turned around to find tony, one of her coworkers, looking at her with an expression that indicated humour. she wasn’t really up for humour right now, but she also didn’t want to seem any more off than she probably already did. so, she forced a chuckle and answered.

“well, technically, I’m not leaving early. I just finished my work on time and don’t really feel like staying longer today, honestly.”

“so compared to your usual hours, you’re still leaving early.”

she looked at him with a frozen smile that didn’t reach her eyes. she hated when people - no, men - repeated her exact words back to her as if she were stupid. she hated it with a passion. harry never spoke to her like that. she should tell him all about it once she gets home, she thought. 

as she realised that she couldn’t do that, she quickly turned away from tony to resume packing her bag.

“I suppose you’re right, tony. what can I do for you?”

he hoped her tone indicated her lack of interest in their conversation. she truly desired nothing more than to get out of this office and figure out her plan for the next few days.

“some of us wanted to get some drinks at this bar down the street. you know, the one that does trivia on wednesday nights? would you like to join us? you can tell your boyfriend to come!”

every single part of those sentences made her feel woozy. the idea of having drinks with her coworkers was absolutely atrocious; she couldn’t physically think of something that she would’ve liked to do less at that moment. however, the mention of him made her suddenly want something to drown out her thoughts with. she usually never resorted to alcohol, but the burn of some heavy liquor in her throat would for sure help her out, at least for now. she needed to feel something. so, without giving it much more thought, she turned around, smiled, and almost robotically replied.

“sure, I’d love to come. thanks for the invite! I’ll ask if he can make it.”

+++

8pm arrived and y/n was piss drunk. 

when they arrived at the bar her coworkers ordered a round of different dishes for the table while she immediately went for the drinks. beer wasn’t her favourite, so vodka would suffice. one drink turned into two, two turned into four and before she realised, she found herself 7 drinks deep into her own abyssal torment. none of her coworkers seemed to notice, either because they lacked interest or she was too good at hiding her intoxication. she barely spoke at the table, anyway. 

“so, y/n! where is that lovely boyfriend of yours? we haven’t seen him since last year’s christmas party. he was fun!” one of her older coworkers, maude, chirped. 

y/n looked up from her drink, slightly disoriented at first. she kept forgetting that the outside world wasn’t aware of how her life crumbled into pieces at her feet. 

act normal. act normal. act normal.

“oh, he’s been pretty busy. you know, with his music and stuff. I’m sorry he couldn’t make it tonight.” she replied. funny how she didn’t even know where he was, right now. 

“oh, that’s a shame. make sure to bring him around again soon! he did a whole coffee run when he visited you last time. even paid for my extra pumps of hazelnut syrup, the ol’ charmer.” maude giggled. y/n forgot how older ladies seemed to adore him. then again, everyone did.

she also did.

in an attempt to seem flattered, she shook her head with a smile on her face. she couldn’t possibly have any of them suspect anything. the last thing she needed was to be the subject of infuriating office chitchat. luckily, she found it quite easy to keep up fake conversation and with that, fake emotion. she truly didn’t care for the people she worked with. a job was a job, nothing more. sure, she loved what she did, but it didn’t change the fact that her job wasn’t her life, or at least, shouldn’t be. she barely cared about her boss, but she did care about the money. a lot. 

for all she cared, she was going to keep up the lie for as long as she had to, and she was fine with that. but maybe, just maybe, it gave her an excuse to pretend that everything was still okay between her and harry. she might as well treat her workplace as an alternate reality; a parallel universe where she could still go home to her lover and had never been kicked out of her own home. a home she helped to build with all the love she possessed in her heart. 

oh, what a waste of love, she thought.

“y/n, are you still with us?” 

“huh? what?”

people laughed. her eyebrows furrowed. she glanced around. she was confused. she felt embarrassed.

“oh, darling, maybe cut back on those drinks you’ve been chugging! I mean, I know you’re a heavyweight and it’s the weekend, but you just totally spaced out on us!“ lena - a younger coworker of hers - said, giggling her way through her remark.

“oh god, sorry. it’s been a long week, you know how it is.” she tried to go along with the joke, while truthfully feeling mortified for letting her guard down. “what were you saying?”

she honestly couldn’t care less. 

“oh, we were just talking about potentially making this a regular thing! you know, to strengthen team morale and all.”

she smiled. there was no way in hell. 

“sure! sounds fun.”

they nodded in agreement, believing her made-up enthusiasm. maybe she should’ve gone to acting school with how believable her act was. or they might just not care about her, just like she doesn’t care about them. they definitely didn’t care enough to ask.

the question was: who did care about her?

her coworkers don’t seem to do so. she’d barely seen any of her friends for a long while now. she hadn’t spoken to her family in what felt like forever. 

she always thought that harry cared.

harry. oh, harry. 

harry. harry. harry.

she suddenly rose up from her seat, pulling everyone’s eyes in her direction.

“I’m gonna use the restroom.”

and gone she was. 

her heart was beating unbelievably fast. she wasn’t feeling good, at all. maybe the alcohol did take a toll on her.

without checking her surroundings, she almost bolted to the restroom. as soon as she entered, she picked one of the empty stalls and found purchase on the sticky floor, almost dramatically sliding down along the closed door. she needed to breathe. her head hung low between her bent knees, her hands clasping around her ears. with her eyes screwed shut and her hearing now impacted, she was now robbed of most of her senses, grounding her somewhat. ‘please, please, please’ was chanted in her head like a mantra; she couldn’t lose her composure like this, anything else was not as important at this moment. 

“everything okay in there? should I get someone?”

her head shot up. fuck.

her breathing must’ve been heavy or maybe the words she repeated weren’t as quiet as she thought. she wasn’t sure who was behind the door, but she wasn’t strong enough to face them.

“uh, I’m okay! thanks for asking.”

silence. 

“y/n? is that you?”

wait, what? she knew that voice.

she got up to open the door and was suddenly faced with a very familiar face.

“jane?”

+++

harry doesn’t remember the last time he felt so hollow. with every moment that passed, he felt more and more like he was drowning. like he was making a terrible, terrible mistake.

the last thing she had said to him before she went to pack a bag was ‘fuck you, harry.’ and truthfully, at first, he was angry. angry at how they argued, angry at her for leaving, angry at himself for not asking her to stay. it was a little later though, right after the door slammed shut behind her that he realised he couldn’t have asked her to stay when he was the one who told her to leave.

and then it dawned on him. he told her to leave. he kicked her out. in the middle of the night. in a city where he himself had been robbed at knifepoint not too long ago. 

the panic kicked in soon after.

so, he called. and called. and called.

but she never answered. 

after the 30th call, her phone went straight to voicemail. that was when harry really started freaking out. 

where did she go? was she safe? what if something happened? harry wouldn’t forgive himself if something were to have happened.

he bit and chewed on his fingers until they bled. he didn’t sleep. his mind and soul were surrounded by an image of her in danger. in pain. hurt.

though, he hurt her that night. 

he was the one who put her in that situation. he hurt her. why the fuck did he do that? why the actual fuck did he do that?

when the panic passed, the self-loathing soon followed. he didn’t understand how things were so quick to turn around when they were more than okay a mere few weeks ago. he treated her like she was disposable and he doesn’t think he will ever forgive himself for it. 

when the hatred for himself outweighed the worry he had for her, he resorted to pills to find slumber that night. the sleep was terrible, but it was better than nothing.

he woke up the next morning, finding himself on his kitchen floor. he must’ve passed out then and there. he checked the clock just above the fridge. the time was 9:15 AM. if she was okay, she must be at work. he could go there to check on her, see if her car was there. but, then again, he felt like he was the last person she wanted around her at this moment. if she was even alive, that is.

his rationality came back to him somewhere after 11 in the morning, just after his shower. she was a strong and capable woman, she was probably fine. she had to be, or he was never going to be fine again.

he went back to the kitchen to fetch himself some water for his run. if there was one thing that helped him, it was running for miles and miles and miles ahead and drowning out his surroundings with music through his headphones. as he opened the fridge he was faced with a bowl that was filled with cubes of fruit. the bowl was shaped like a lemon and had the colour to go with it. he remembers how y/n had picked it out online, gushing over how cute and fitting it is.

‘you always sing about fruit! might as well have a lemon-shaped bowl, if you ask me.’

he remembers how he had chuckled in response, pulled her in for a kiss on her temple, and replied ‘whatever you want, love.’

why do those days feel so far away now? 

he looked all around the kitchen and observed how every nook and cranny of this house had pieces of her littered all over it. the kitchen clock; a soft yellow one with slender, roman numbering on it - she chose it. the light pink cabinets - she painted them. actually, they painted them together and made sweet love on that very floor when they were finished. every piece of decoration - she had collected them whenever they had travelled. he particularly took notice of a framed picture right next to the sink. a moment captured when they made fresh pasta at his mother’s house when they were there for her birthday, two years ago. he remembered the moment so, so vividly.

‘harry, for goodness’ sake! you’re making a mess!’

she was the one who rolled out the dough by hand, since harry had previously dropped the pasta maker on the floor, resulting in its break. feeling a little useless, he wanted to do whatever he could to make her laugh. so, he did what any child would do: poured flour over them. first, her nose. then, her cheeks. shortly after, her head. and when she was sick of him, she grabbed the packet from his grasp and poured every last bit over him. her glimmering eyes looked straight at his playful ones. she bit her lips, in order to deny him the satisfaction of a laugh, and he looked just about ready to burst at the seams. 

in that moment, his sister quietly took a picture, making sure to get it back to them for one of their birthdays. when she was done, she clapped her hands to gain their attention, and suddenly they stood there like deers caught in headlights. 

then, laughter erupted. loud, hearty, full laughter. 

harry had to physically shake his head to lose the memory. when a sudden sickness overcame him, he found himself emptying the contents of his stomach right into said sink. was this kind of behaviour normal after a breakup? he didn’t know.

breakup. breakup. breakup.

the word swam around his vision, making him want to gauge his own eyes out. were they broken up, now? could she ever forgive him? then again, could he forgive her for lying to him? his mind was swarmed with all sorts of questions that he had no way of finding an answer to, at least not anytime soon. 

he needed to go on that run.

so, he did. and ever so conveniently, he ran by her workplace. low and behold, her car was there, unscathed. relief flooded him, but so did dread. because if she was at work, that meant she was fine. which also meant that she didn’t pick up his calls on purpose. she didn’t want to talk to him. 

good. maybe they shouldn’t talk for a while. whatever. 

he ran back home and didn’t leave the house for the remaining day.

+++

jane was y/n’s lifelong friend. they went to high school together and were usually inseparable. however, with both of their schedules being as crazy as they were, they rarely saw each other these days. when jane saw the state of her in that bathroom stall, she paid for her tab and drove her home. y/n didn’t say much in that time, still in a state of sensory overload. it was only when she saw how they were approaching harry’s driveway that she spoke. 

“we can’t go there.” 

jane whipped her head towards the passenger seat. “what do you mean, petal?” 

y/n stared straight ahead. “we can’t go to harry’s place. can I stay with you tonight? I’ll explain everything.”

jane looked at her for a few beats longer, worry etched deep into her features, until she turned her car around and drove to her own apartment. just over 30 minutes later, they arrived.

y/n soon realised how drunk she truly was, especially when the glare of the white lightbulbs in jane’s bathroom made her head throb and her guts churn. she ended up leaning above the toilet bowl in an attempt to empty the contents of her stomach, however, her attempt was in vain; nothing left her stomach. and yet, she felt so empty. 

she wished that she had shouted at harry, maybe even slap him across his annoyingly pretty face. she wished she had done something to stop him from doing what he did. but alas, just like nothing left her now, nothing left her then. she was always so perfectly contained. harry had even told her on multiple occasions that she needed to let loose, even if it was just a little bit. he was good at helping her with that. she always felt so unbothered and carefree in his presence. 

oh, harry. what have you done?

“god, harry. you fucking idiot.” 

the first sob of the night left her. then came the second. the third quickly followed. all of a sudden, she found herself crying in agony over her best friend’s toilet.

“y/n, you okay?? can I come in?” jane called from the other side of the door, but y/n didn’t hear. the echo of her cries within the toilet bowl was too loud for her to be aware of her surroundings. thus, a very worried-looking jane came bursting through the door. as she found y/n in literal shambles across the bathroom floor, she couldn’t help but choke up herself. she’d never seen her like this, and it truly broke her heart.

“hey, hey pretty girl, it’s alright. I’m here, good god, I’m here. let it all out.”

jane ended up cradling y/n, almost like you would calm a crying baby, and y/n didn’t realise how much she truly needed it. however, she still didn’t dare to speak. she feared that, once she recalled the events out loud, they would become reality. she wasn’t ready for that to happen, not yet. maybe not ever, but definitely not now. 

so she cried and cried and cried until there was nothing left to give. jane and her wordlessly went to bed that night, bundled up in blankets to keep out the cold. 

y/n feared she might never feel normal again, if she even knew what that was. she felt like harry completed her, and that scared her to death.

when she woke up the next day, she finally threw up. with the vodka finally out of her system and her stomach basically cleansed, she felt a lot better than she thought she would. the headache was manageable and the nausea came and went. she could survive this.

she didn’t know about the rest of her circumstances, though. 

whenever the thought of him popped into her head, she did whatever she could to distract herself. first thing in the morning? she showered after her journey to the toilet bowl. after the shower? extensive skincare. when she saw her tired expression in the mirror? left the bathroom to borrow some of jane’s clothes. eventually, she had run out of distractions in the bedroom, so she escaped to the kitchen. when she started preparing breakfast and turned up the radio just a touch, she was reminded of him, again. soon enough, she realised that everything reminded her of him, and there was nothing she could do about it. would be too easy, right?

for the first time in a while, she felt vulnerable. raw. like there was no skin over her pain and a gust of wind could make it bleed.

the realisation knocked the air out of her for just a moment, but it was enough for her to turn the stove off and sit down. she felt as if she had just run up the stairs, in fear that somebody was chasing her. she felt out of breath, disoriented and weirded out. maybe she should go to that doctor to talk about her anxiety, harry had always-

“hey, you! making some breakfast? how kind.” jane chimed, bright and chipper, ripping y/n out of her thoughts. she caught her gaze, offering a smile. “oh, I was just up early today. the eggs are probably burnt, though. just a heads up.”

jane nodded and went straight to her bag of toaster waffles and popped one of them into her mouth. a quick turn later, she faced y/n with an apologetic expression. as much as she wanted to grant y/n her bit of privacy, she needed to know what happened. before jane could open her mouth, y/n spoke. she spoke and spoke and spoke, retelling the whole thing, from the moment she felt overwhelmed at work, right up to the point where harry kicked her out. this was the second day she wasn’t at his place, refusing to refer to it as ‘home’, and everything still felt awfully unreal. jane listened and listened until she snapped. 

“hold on, what? you slept in your damn car? why didn’t you call me? y/n, that was so unsafe, dear god!” 

she was pacing up and down her lengthy kitchen, trying to wrap her head around how her best friend’s picture-perfect relationship went to shit without anybody else noticing. 

“I know, jane, I know, but I wasn’t really thinking and I didn’t want to bother anyone. the two of us have barely spoken lately, and-“

“as if that matters! y/n, you’re my best friend, okay? my ride or die. it doesn’t matter if I see you once a week or once a year, I am the person you tell these things to, okay? I’m the person you ask for help!”

y/n didn’t answer, shame clouding her senses. instead, her gaze turned downwards and she started picking her nails.

“you’re staying with me until we figure this out, okay? I don’t want to hear shit.” 

when y/n didn’t answer, jane physically forced her to look at her by nudging her hand under her chin and gently dragging it upwards. “got it, petal?” 

y/n nodded.

“wonderful! oh, and if I see harry, just know I’m gonna beat the shit out of him. lord knows he deserved it-“

“you will not, okay?”

jane looked at y/n as if she had grown a third head. confusedly, she goes: “wait, are you planning to forgive him, or something?”

y/n became frustrated. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet, okay? I just don’t know. I can’t face him for a bit, but I can’t tell you what’ll happen afterwards. please don’t hurt him, I know that you actually would.”

jane listened, processed, and nodded. she didn’t want to cause her any more emotional turmoil. 

“okay, dude. whatever you say. now, let’s plan this sleepover of ours!”

+++

it’d been seven days since harry had last seen her. with every day that had passed, his emotions spiralled.

his first phase: hatred. 

he hated her. he hated her boss, her work, her mindset. he hated all of the things he could blame for their fallout, thus also hating himself. he hated himself so much that he couldn’t bare to look at himself. when he wasn’t excessively punching things in his at-home gym, he got high and broke stuff. he called her and spoke spiteful things onto her voicemail. he cried angry tears and listened to angry, devastating music. 

the music triggered the second phase: sorrow.

he cried and cried and cried, especially to sad coldplay songs or the old records that his stepfather used to collect. the crying made him tired, so he slept a lot during this phase. though, as soon as he woke up, he’d be crying again. 

when the crying stopped, the depression came.

heaviness shaped his form. his feet felt too heavy to lift,  thus his bed became his permanent residence for a bit. his mind was hazy and everything he attempted to do sucked every last bit of energy out of him, resulting in a permanent state of exhaustion. 

his empty bed triggered his longest phase: loneliness.

he missed her. so fucking much.

he missed her smell. her peaceful, sleeping state. he missed how she would always have to collect individual hairs off of their covers because her hair just shed in heaps during her slumber. he missed how she’d look up at him when the first few moments of consciousness kissed her in the morning. he missed how he could lay his head on her soft chest and listen to her steady heartbeat. he missed how she would sometimes lovingly grab him by the jaw and pull him down to kiss his forehead. he missed how she used to make him coffee in the morning and he’d eat her out on the kitchen table to say thank you. he missed her body, every mark and every freckle. he missed her voice and wished he’d recorded it at some point. he missed the way she’d hug him from every angle. he missed how she could talk to him for hours about anything. he missed making love to her.

he missed being able to love her. 

he feared that she was gone now. far, far away from his reach. he had to make peace with it, though. right?

thus he welcomed his current phase: apathy. 

he didn’t care anymore; he wasn’t going to get her back. he’d fucked up too bad, so he resorted to resenting her for her mistakes. the negative emotions that were previously directed towards him only were now evenly distributed amongst her, him, their situation and the world. he didn’t want to talk to anyone, reach out to anyone, or even acknowledge his feelings in any way. as he cleaned up his house from the shards and pieces of the the things he had destroyed, he found a weird sense of serenity in the acceptance of his downfall. all was lost now, what else could go wrong? 

then, his phone rang.

he checked. it was sarah. 

he wasn’t going to pick up, but she’d called him a few times now. he didn’t want to worry her, so he finally picked up.

“hello?”

a sigh of relief left her.

“goodness, harry, where were you? I’ve been trying to reach you for ages! look, some things need to be picked up for the rehearsal dinner on tuesday. could you maybe handle it? I wouldn’t ask you but mitch and I have been super busy with everything else. pleeaasee?”

harry’s brows furrowed. rehearsal dinner?

then, he remembered. the fucking wedding.

mitch and sarah had been officially married for over a year, yet they never had a proper celebration due to obvious restrictions. and honestly, he’d completely forgotten about it within the last few days. a wedding for his best friends, which she was also supposed to attend. how on earth could he make this right?

“oh! and tell y/n to call me back, please! I’ve been meaning to talk to her about the dresses for the bridesmaids, but her phone is dead or something.”

without missing a beat, harry replied. “yeah, sure. I’ll tell her. also, send me what you need picked up and I’ll get it to you.” 

if there was one thing harry and y/n had in common, it was this: they would always put other people’s needs above their own, especially if it concerned their loved ones. there was no way in hell he would make one of his best friends worry about him when her wedding was just around the corner. he’ll pretend if he had to. but he was not going to fuck this up for them.

“oh, you’re an angel! I’ll send you all the details, thank you! I have to go now but give y/n a kiss from me, please. love you! see you later! bye!”

the phone beeped until inevitable silence.

right, so he had to hope that y/n would attend the wedding. no, he had to be sure that she would be there. not only that; he had to hope that she would agree to act normal around their friends, for now. 

harry needed to find a way to reach her. he might’ve fucked up his own relationship, but he was not going to spoil his friend’s wedding. 

wonderful. what could go wrong? except for absolutely everything?

+++

5.1k, not proofread (whoops), lowercase intended

PART THREE IS HERE HELLOOOOO

thank you for your patience !! i know it’s been a long time coming. parts of this were kind of hard to write for me, so excuse any ill worded sentences, please <3

i hope you enjoy this one! as always, all the love xx

-ve !!